Chapter 27 : Getting Better

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the late post, please help me and like my book you can also add it to your shelf, if you want. thank you.

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Rayna's POV

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the hospital window and Denzel's arm wrapped around my waist.

For a moment, just a brief, perfect moment. I forgot where we were. Forgot why we were here. All I knew was the warmth of his body against mine, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his hand splayed possessively across my stomach.

Then reality came crashing back.

Oliver. The attack. The threats.

And the fact that less than twelve hours ago, I'd lost my virginity to the man currently holding me.

I could still feel him. The soreness between my legs was a constant reminder of what we'd done. Of how he'd touched me, filled me, made me fall apart in his arms.

My face heated at the memory.

"You're thinking too loud," Denzel murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

"I wasn't…"

"You were. I can practically hear the panic spiraling in your head."

"I'm not panicking."

"Liar." His arm tightened around me. "We should talk about it."

"About what?"

"Don't play dumb, Amelia. About what happened between us. Before all this."

My heart started racing. "I... I don't know what to say."

"Start with how you feel."

"I feel confused. And scared. And sore."

That last word slipped out before I could stop it.

Denzel went very still behind me. Then, quietly: "Did I hurt you?"

"No. I mean, it hurt at first, but you were gentle. It's just... I can feel where you were. Inside me. Every time I move."

"Good."

"Good?"

"I want you to remember. To feel me even when I'm not touching you." His hand moved slightly on my stomach, and I shivered. "Because I sure as hell can't stop thinking about it."

Before I could respond, there was a knock on the door.

"Mrs. Adams?" A nurse poked her head in. "Your brother is awake and asking for you."

Saved by the interruption. Again.

Oliver looked significantly better than he had last night. The swelling had gone down, and some color had returned to his face.

"Hey," he said when we entered. "You two look cozy."

"How are you feeling?" I asked, ignoring the comment.

"Like I got hit by a truck. But alive." He looked at Denzel. "Any news on who did this?"

"Not yet. My security team is still investigating."

"So basically, you have nothing."

"We have some leads we're following up on. It takes time to—"

"Time I might not have," Oliver interrupted. "What if they come back? What if they decide beating me up wasn't enough?"

"That's not going to happen," Denzel said firmly. "You're under 24/7 protection. And when you're released, you're staying at my house."

"For how long?"

"Until we figure out who's behind this and eliminate the threat."

Oliver looked at me. "Is he always this intense?"

"You have no idea."

Dr. Patel came in to check on Oliver, and Denzel's phone rang. He stepped out into the hallway to take the call.

"So," Oliver said once we were alone. "You slept with him."

I nearly choked. "What? How did you…."

"Ray, I'm your brother. I know you. And you're walking differently today."

My face burned. "Can we not discuss this?"

"Why not? I'm stuck in a hospital bed with nothing to do. Might as well get the details."

"There are no details to get."

"Was it good?"

"Oliver!"

"I'll take that as a yes." He grinned, then winced and touched his ribs. "Ow. Okay, no smiling. But seriously, Ray... you look different. Softer. Happy, almost."

"I'm not happy. You're in the hospital because someone beat you up."

"I'm talking about before that. When you two walked in this morning, there was this... vibe. Like something shifted between you."

Had it? I didn't know. Last night had been incredible and terrifying and overwhelming. And now, with Oliver's attack and the threats, I didn't have time to process any of it.

"It's complicated," I finally said.

"Love usually is."

"Who said anything about love?"

"You didn't have to. It's written all over your face."

Before I could respond, Denzel came back in, his expression troubled.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"That was Marcus. They reviewed all the security footage from the area where Oliver was attacked. The assailants were professionals, knew where the cameras were, avoided them perfectly. No faces, no identifying marks, nothing."

"So we're back to square one," Oliver said.

"Not entirely. We're tracking the burner phone they used to send those texts. If they use it again, we might be able to trace the location."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we keep digging until we find something."

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out and saw a text from an unknown number.

My blood ran cold.

60 hours remaining. Stop asking questions or the next target won't survive.

I showed it to Denzel, my hands shaking.

His jaw clenched. "They're monitoring us. They know we're investigating."

"How?"

"Could be tracking our phones. Could have someone on the inside. Could be watching the hospital." He looked around the room, suddenly suspicious of everything. "We need to leave. Now."

Denzel's POV

Getting Amelia and Oliver out of that hospital felt like extracting targets from a war zone.

I had security sweep the parking garage before we even left the building. Had them check our cars for tracking devices. Had them form a perimeter around us as we made our way to the vehicles.

Paranoid? Maybe.

But someone had beaten Oliver to a pulp and was now making threats. I wasn't taking any chances.

Amelia rode with me while Oliver was transported in a separate car with two security guards. We'd decided to move him to the mansion where we had better control over who came and went.

The drive was silent and tense.

I kept glancing at Amelia. She stared out the window, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. I could see the fear in her eyes, the way she kept checking her phone as if expecting another threat.

"Talk to me," I said.

"About what?"

"About what you're thinking. What you're feeling."

"I'm thinking that my brother almost died. That someone is threatening to kill people I love. That I have no idea who or why or how to stop them."

"And about last night?"

She finally looked at me. "What about it?"

"Are you okay? With what happened between us?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

"I don't regret it, if that's what you're asking."

"Neither do I. But Denzel... everything is so complicated right now. Can we just... table this conversation until Oliver is safe? Until we know he's not in danger anymore?"

I wanted to argue. Wanted to make her talk about what was clearly building between us. But the fear in her eyes stopped me.

"Okay," I agreed. "But Amelia? This conversation is happening. Soon."

"I know."

We pulled up to the mansion, and I noticed immediately that something was off.

The front door was slightly ajar.