Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I don’t need her to tell me who did this to her. It’s obvious it was Christopher. He must have recognized her from the club last night.
My blood boils as I think about all the ways I’d like to personally see to his demise. Watch him squirm as I sink my fingers into his eye sockets and push. I’d love to beat him to a bloody pulp, see how he likes being manhandled.
My anger flares up once more as I see Eva stir on the bed, her frail form shifting slightly under the sheets.
“Benedict,” she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath. Each syllable is strained and laced with pain, and it cuts through me like a knife.
I tighten my grip on her hand, trying to offer what little comfort I can. “You’re safe now,” I say softly, my voice filled with a desperation I can’t quite hide. More than anything, I want to gather her in my arms, to shield her from the world and carry her away from all this horror. The thought of holding her close, away from harm, feels like a distant dream.
Doctor Cartwright, sensing the gravity of the moment, discreetly steps out, giving us the privacy we need. The quiet hum of the hospital room is punctuated only by the soft beeping of the heart monitor, and I slide closer to Eva, my heart aching at her suffering.
“It’s just me and you now, baby,” I whisper, my voice tender as I gently pat her head with my free hand. The contact is meant to be soothing, though I know it’s a small comfort compared to the pain she’s enduring. “You’re safe now.”
Her eyes flutter open briefly, and she manages to choke out a single word. “Christopher.”
My heart clenches at the name. I swallow hard, fighting the rage that surges within me. “I know,” I say, my voice steady but tight. “We’ll get through this. I promise you, Eva. We’ll figure this out.”
Her eyelids grow heavy again, and she seems to drift back into a fitful sleep. I remain at her side, my gaze never leaving her pale face. My mind races, full of unanswered questions and a deep-seated resolve to protect her from any further harm.
Chapter 26
Evangelina
It’s been nearly a week since I came home from the hospital, and Benedict has been my constant companion every step of the way. One week of him never leaving my side has been both a blessing and a strange comfort in the midst of this chaos.
To say he’s taking care of me is an understatement. Benedict has been my rock, attending to my every need with a patience and dedication that’s almost overwhelming. From the moment I was discharged, he has been here, ensuring I have everything I need and more.
He wakes up early to prepare breakfast, bringing me a tray of light, nutritious food to help me regain my strength. He’s attentive, always checking my medication schedule and making sure I’m comfortable. Even the smallest tasks—like adjusting the pillows on my bed or drawing the blinds to let in just the right amount of sunlight—are done with care.
His presence is soothing. He sits by my bed during the day, reading to me from my favorite books.
I’ve asked who’s watching his parish, and he told me they’ve brought in another priest from a nearby church.
At night, he remains close by, often dozing in a chair next to my bed. His hand is always within reach. I’ve noticed the way he looks at me. There’s a tenderness in his eyes that I haven’t seen before, a quiet strength that seems to hold the weight of both our fears and hopes.
There’s an undercurrent of tension in his demeanor. He’s been more focused than usual, his brow furrowed as if he’s carrying a heavy burden he hasn’t shared with me. I sense he’s fighting an internal battle, one that he’s determined to shield me from.
He’s been keeping things from me, and the weight of his silence is starting to eat away at me. I need to know what’s going on behind those intense eyes of his.
One sunny afternoon, as I sit propped up with pillows on the couch, I turn to Benedict, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer. “What are you not telling me?” I ask, my voice calm despite the growing tension between us.
Benedict’s reaction is immediate—he shakes his head quickly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “It’s best you focus on healing,” he says, his tone firm yet gentle. “Have you heard from Christopher?”
I nod, feeling a pang of unease. “I called Jessica to let her know I wouldn’t be able to take Nate for a while because of my accident. I told her I was recovering from a biking accident.”
Benedict’s reaction is telling. He lets out an audible huff, clearly dissatisfied. “Is that what we’re going with? A biking accident?” His voice is laced with frustration, but there’s also a hidden tension beneath his words.