“Gino,” Grant says, reading the situation and stepping up to diffuse anything before it starts. “How is she doing?” he asks in a steady and typically calm voice.

Grant has always been the infallible one out of the two of us. Whereas I think and then act, but never normally give any indication if I’m affected or not, Grant is the mediator, the placator, the one who steadies the ship until such time as I’ve decided on the course of action to take.

The problem is I don’t have the strength to fight anything anymore. A lot of the fortitude I’ve been able to exhibit lately is owed to Lucia. There is a lot to be said for only being as strong as the woman by your side. She is the rebar holding my very foundation together at a time when the base on which we’re set on continually shifts.

“She is alive, no thanks to you!” Gino spears me with a deadly stare, his body tight with unleashed fury directed firmly at my feet.

“Gino, I—”

“No, I don’t wanna hear any of your lame-ass excuses as to why you felt you had the right to wrap your damn hands around my sister’s throat and almost kill her.” He advances toward me, and I brace for whatever is coming my way. “You think because you have money, because you’re this hot-shot playboy, you can play whatever fucked up kinky games you like and you’re invincible?” Another two steps forward bring him to within five feet of me.

Grant holds steady beside me but I don’t tear my eyes away from Gino even for a moment. My hands are balled into fists at my side, the air I breathe thick with tension. But still, I stand strong.

“You think you can use and abuse my sister and still hold your head up high?” Now Gino is two feet away, his chest heaving, his eyes wide and wild. His nostrils flare as he spits out every thunderous word. The noise of the hospital ward dims in comparison to the scene playing out in the corridor. I don’t miss the loud whispers asking if it is me, or another woman telling someone to get their phone out just in case.

“We have an audience, gentlemen,” Grant mutters under his breath.

“We just . . . I wanted to see for myself that she is okay. I won’t stay long; I just want to say—”

I don’t finish the sentence because I’m blindsided by Gino’s fist slamming into my jaw, a brutal upper-cut that he follows up with a left hand punch to my stomach. One more blow lands on my right cheek below my eye before Grant is able to react and step between us, pushing Gino back with both hands on his shoulders and keeping us apart.

“Call security!” A woman behind me calls.

Bent over in pain, I raise my hand into a thumbs-up sign, hoping to stop anything from escalating. Lucia deserves the opportunity to recover in peace. I at least owe her that decency.

“Cal?” Grant calls, and I look up to see him still holding Gino back, but he’s frowning over his shoulder at me.

“I’m okay,” I reply in a rough whisper, the pulsing pain in my stomach slowly lessening. My face, however? It’s another story.

“We need to get you checked out. Make sure nothing’s broken.”

“Doesn’t matter, Grant.” I lean against the wall and drop my head back in undeniable defeat. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to see her. I’ll be lucky if she ever gives me the opportunity to apologize for my unforgivable and disgusting behavior.

The loud clap of footsteps on the vinyl floor grabs my attention, and I turn to see two security guards running toward us. “There a problem here?” a tall, heavily built, uniformed man asks us, wisely stepping between us.

“I want these men removed from the hospital. He,” Gino says, pointing to me, “is the one that put my sister in a hospital bed. I want him banned from coming anywhere near her.”

The guard looks me over and then back to where Gino and Grant are standing, quietly assessing the situation.

“That sounds like a police matter, sir. But for now, I’ll have to respect the man’s wishes and ask you two gentlemen to leave.”

I nod agreeably, watching Grant talk quietly to Gino before clapping his shoulder and walking over to me.

“Everything’s fine here. We’ll leave,” Grant says to the security guard, who just grunts in agreement and walks away. “Let’s go, Cal. We’ll see Lucia once she’s been discharged.”

Hearing him say the words, unwittingly letting me know that she is going to be okay, my knees buckle, and I slide to the floor. Resting my palms on my forehead, my arms on my bent knees, I close my eyes and let everything wash over me, wave after wave, thought after thought. Tears stings my eyes as the last string holding me together unravels.

Who is this monster that I have become? How can I call myself a man when at my weakest moment, I failed to protect Lucia from myself, the very person she should never experience danger from?

Grant bends down beside me. “Cal . . . not here. You don’t want to do this here. I’ll get you home and you can let go there,” he whispers.

“Fuck,” I spit out, stamping my shoe against the floor. “I’m done. I’m so fucking done.” But I stay sitting there, leaning my back against the hospital corridor wall and shielding myself from showing every emotion that’s now tearing me apart.

Grant sits down beside me, but says nothing more. It’s as if he knows that I’m incapable of doing anything else in this moment. The only thing my mind is allowing me to do is slam ass-first into rock bottom and keep me here until I have the strength to push my way up again.

If only I believed it was even possible to do so.

“Cal?” I hear beside me in a quiet, hoarse whisper. The voice is so faint and soft, if it wasn’t for the unmistakable tone of her voice, I doubt it would have registered.

For what feels like hours I’ve been sitting in this same spot, my body stuck in place, unable and unwilling to move away.

Grant went to get us coffee, saying he wouldn’t be long. It can’t have been that long ago but I know he hasn’t come back yet.

Her hand touches my forearm and I take in the warmth of her body that’s now gently leaning into mine. Jerking back in surprise, my head snaps up, and there she is. Her dark hair is in loose, unruly waves over her shoulders. Her eyes are red and swollen, yet so soft and full of concern as they pin me in place. I’ve been contemplating whether I would ever get to look into them like this again, whether I would get to feel the warmth of her body so close to mine.

“God, Luce. I’m so, so sorry,” I rasp, before burying my head in the crook of her shoulder and finally letting the tears I’ve been fighting so hard to hold back go.

She leans up on her knees and wraps her arms around me, taking my weight and pulling me down against her. “I’ve been waiting for you to come in and see me.”

Her hand moves to cover mine, her fingers squeezing as she pulls it into her lap.

“Gino, he—” I start to say before she cuts me off.

“My brother had no right to ask you to leave, and definitely no fucking right to attack you. I sent him home as soon as he told me what he’d done.”

“He’s just doing what I failed to do,” I explain.

“And what’s that? Annoy me?” she replies with a small, hollow smile.

Pulling back to look at her, I’m filled with a compelling need to apologize and ask for the impossible forgiveness I do not deserve.

“Luce, I can’t believe I lost control like that. I’m so sor—”

I stop the instant my eyes fall to her throat. Her beautiful, flawless skin marred with row upon row of purple and red bruises surround her neck. I lift my hand to lightly touch her, as if to soothe the tenderness and erase the pain, but when her breath catches and she flinches—just barely, but I don’t miss it—I instantly pull back, shifting my body away from her. Any warmth I felt before disappears, leaving me with that same chill that’s been emanating from inside of me since the moment I realized I’d gone too far.