Three days after the assault on the Anderson estate, Ral woke in a private hospital room with broken ribs that screamed with every breath and memories that hurt worse than any physical injury. Louis sat in a chair beside his bed, her face drawn with exhaustion and something that looked disturbingly like doubt.
"How long have you been sitting there?" he asked, his voice rough from medications and disuse.
"Since they brought you out of surgery to repair internal bleeding you did not tell anyone about during the rescue." Her words carried an edge that cut deeper than concern. "The doctors said you could have died if you had waited another hour."
"I had to make sure Vincent was safe first."
"And that is exactly the problem, Ral." Louis stood abruptly, pacing the sterile room with barely co
