“That’s fine,” I said, refusing to leave Ashton’s side.

If the police wanted to question me, they could do it here. There was nothing more I could add to Kit’s account anyway.

The officers told us they had found the Camry, but the plates had been stolen and they had yet to trace the car’s origin.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs Laurent,” the lead officer said politely as he closed his tablet.

“Shall I see them out?” Harry offered.

I turned and saw Ashton blinking awake. “How are you feeling?” I asked, rushing to him.

He reached for my hand and gripped it lightly, his voice rough and lips dry. “You cried. Your eyes are red.”

“Yeah. I would be superhuman if I didn’t cry a bit after being shot at. I was terrified,” I admitted.

“I’m not usually a crier, but seeing Ashton covered in blood terrified me. Tears came whether I wanted them to or not.”

Ashton sighed and pulled me close, holding me and patting my back as if to comfort me. “You wouldn’t have been involved in this if not for me,” he murmured, sounding guilty. “I put you in danger.”

“No, you don’t know that,” I said firmly. “The police haven’t figured out who’s behind this yet.”

“I’ve failed to protect you.”

“No. You did fine. I’m upset because you were hurt. Promise me you’ll be careful from now on, please?” I clung to him, my voice breaking.

“I promise,” he said, stroking my hair, his voice hoarse but tender.

I let go and looked at the bandage around his abdomen, which was still seeping a little. I touched a trembling hand to the dressing. “It must hurt.”

“Not at all,” he lied, taking my hand and gripping it hard. “Not at all.”

“This should have been me.”

“I’d rather it be me,” he said with conviction.

That evening, some of Ashton’s friends arrived, including Cassian Langford and Genevieve.

I glared at Cassian. He touched his nose sheepishly. “Her parents called my parents, who called me. What was I supposed to do?”

You could have ignored the call, I wanted to say. Or stood your ground and refused to bring her.

Genevieve barreled into the ward and flung herself at Ashton’s bedside, sobbing. “Ash, are you all right? How did this happen? Who did this? Oh my God, I’m so scared!”

I watched her with a sour expression. Why didn’t Ashton push her away? The sight stung.

“Ash, you’re always so careful. Who could have hurt you like this?” Genevieve said through her tears, all concern and theatrical distress.

“Enough. Leave me alone, I’m fine.” Ashton frowned and gently shoved her back. Reluctantly, Genevieve released him, dabbed at her eyes, and turned to me with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Mirabelle. I lost control. I know you don’t like it when Ash and I get close, but we grew up together—”

“The patient needs rest. You can all leave now.” I kept my voice flat.

“All right, we’ll go. Call me if you need anything,” Cassian chirped.

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