I lifted it, holding it between both of my hands, then pressed it to my lips. “Anna. I’m so sorry.”

Those words weren’t even close to being enough. But I didn’t know what would be. Tears filled my eyes, spilling over and landing on our joined hands. “I love you. Please don’t leave me.”

45

ANNA

The persistent tickle in my throat woke me. A scratch that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much I swallowed. That was when the pain hit. The thrumming through my skull and the ache in my muscles.

What the hell happened?

I tried to open my eyes, but they didn’t seem to want to cooperate. The lids themselves were too heavy. I tried again, straining. This time, they fluttered.

The light in the room was low but still felt too bright. Each blink cemented a picture in my mind. Curtains. White walls. Machines. Mason.

His head lay on my bed, his face turned towards me. He looked…haggard. Scruff even longer than usual and dark circles under his eyes.

I reached out, running my fingers through his hair. Mason let out a little moan. Then his eyes popped open, and he jerked upright. “Anna?”

“Hi.” The greeting came out as a croak.

“Are you okay? How do you feel? How long have you been awake?”

“What happened?” As I asked the question, things came back to me in flashes. Our fight. Waking up in the hatchback. Derek. My breaths started coming faster, panic closing in.

Mason moved in, taking my hand in his. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Derek?” I whispered.

“He’s in jail.”

A nurse bustled in. “I thought there was a little spike in the heart monitor activity. Welcome back, Ms. Foley. Your young man has been quite worried about you.”

I held it together while she checked lines and tubes and asked me a few questions. She explained that my throat was sore because I’d been on a ventilator until a few hours ago and assured us that the doctor would be in soon to check me over. Then, she left.

As soon as she did, the tears fell. Mason didn’t wait. He slid onto the bed next to me, careful to avoid my IV line and arm brace. He pulled me gently into him. “You’re okay,” he whispered, almost as if he were telling himself as much as reassuring me.

“He killed Chelsea.”

“I know. Walker found evidence in his hotel room. He’s going to jail for the rest of his life.”

I burrowed into Mason’s chest. “Why did she do it? She knew he was dangerous.”

“Because she loved you. And she wanted to make things right.”

The tears fell faster. “All I needed was her.”

“I know.” Mason pressed his lips to the top of my head. “I’m so sorry. For Chelsea. For what I said. I let my baggage get the best of me.”