Chapter 4

Dean stood in the doorway, his face a mask of pure fury. The easy-going charm was gone, replaced by something primal and terrifying.

He moved like a predator.

In a blur of motion, he lunged, grabbing the first man by the throat and slamming his head against the wall. A sickening crack echoed through the room. The second man came at him, and Dean spun, his elbow connecting with the man's jaw with brutal force.

In the chaos, the third man, scrambling on the floor, pulled a knife. He lunged, not at Dean, but at me.

"AVA!" Dean roared, a sound of pure, animalistic terror.

He threw himself in front of me.

I saw the flash of steel. I heard a wet, percussive thud.

The knife disappeared into Dean's back.

Blood blossomed through the fabric of his shirt. He let out a choked grunt but didn't fall, driving his fist into the man's temple. The man collapsed in a heap.

Security guards burst in, and Dean stumbled, his body going slack, falling against me.

"Dean," I whispered, my hands coming up to his back, feeling the warm, sticky wetness of his blood. My mind went blank. All the betrayal, all the anger, it all evaporated.

I was a doctor. He was bleeding out in my arms.

My hands, slick with his blood, fumbled for my phone. I dialed 911.

I spent the entire night at the hospital, pacing outside the operating room, then sitting by his bedside. The next morning, a nurse gently urged me to go get some coffee. I was exhausted, running on pure adrenaline. I finally relented, leaving my purse on the chair in his room.

I was halfway down the hall when I realized my mistake. I turned back.

As I approached his room, I heard his voice. He was on the phone.

"Yeah, it hurts like a bitch," he was saying, his voice laced with a familiar, arrogant humor. "But it was worth it. You should have seen her face. She was so worried."

My blood ran cold. I pressed myself against the wall, out of sight.

"She'll be all soft and grateful now," he continued, chuckling. "Perfect time to finally get in her pants for real, you know? It's been driving me crazy, her thinking I'm Adrian this whole time. I want her to know it's me."

There was a pause.

"Of course I still like Ashley," he said, his tone dismissive. "But a guy can have a little fun on the side, can't he? Especially when the side piece is as hot as Ava. Tonight's the night. I can feel it."

I didn't hear any more. I couldn't.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle the sob that clawed its way up my throat.

He had staged it all. The attack. The heroic rescue. The life-threatening injury. All of it a sick, twisted performance to make me feel guilty, to make me feel indebted, to manipulate me into sleeping with him.

I stumbled away from the door, my body shaking uncontrollably, and fled the hospital as if the devil himself were at my heels.