Ruthless Salvation: A GrumpySunshine Stalker Mafia Romance (The Byrne Brothers Book 3) by Jill Ramsower

Author:Jill Ramsower [Ramsower, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jill Ramsower LLC
Published: 2023-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

Even after my parents died, I could never imagine a time when I would be sorry to be alive. When I would rather not wake up than face reality.

I now knew the excruciating depths of that despair.

The desolation.

I was in a hospital. Bandaged. Alone.

Every inch of my body hurt, but only one question was on my mind. I voiced it when an older woman in scrubs entered my hospital room. “My baby?” I asked in a hoarse voice, one eye sealed shut. “My baby?” I murmured again, this time patting my tender stomach.

There was so much pain. How could anything survive such abuse?

We didn’t have to speak the same language for me to understand the tormented look in the nurse’s eyes. Slowly, she turned her head from side to side. “So sorry.” Her words were heavily accented and laden with sorrow.

I didn’t cry. Not really. I was too numb for that.

A single tear warmed my skin, commemorating the life stolen from me.

The nurse left me to grieve. I wished I’d had the luxury of such emotions. Instead, I sat still in silence and took inventory of my situation. It was dark outside my window, and judging by the dimmed lights and quiet hallways, I suspected we were well into the middle of the night.

Damyon must have been worried to have brought me here. I was surprised he wasn’t standing vigil at my bedside. He had likely instructed the hospital to call him when I woke. Was he already on his way? And once he got me back to the house, then what? He didn’t trust me before, so he certainly wouldn’t now. I’d forever be his prisoner, assuming he let me live.

If I had any hope of survival, I had to escape. Now.

Damyon’s absence was my sign from the universe—my one token of good luck—so I wasn’t going to waste it.

Sitting up, I cringed at the pain lancing through my chest. I had to have at least one broken rib.

Once I was upright, I realized I was wearing padded panties, and judging by the squish, they were soaked. I peeked inside, wondering why they’d allowed me to pee myself.

I wished to God I hadn’t looked.

Blood. So much blood.

Of course. I should have known. My body would have to shed what was no longer viable.

I scrunched my eyes shut and fought back the vomit burning my throat. I had to set aside all that had happened to process at a later time when my world wasn’t on the verge of collapse. I had no time for grief or fear or pain. My life depended on my ability to escape.

I gently lowered my feet to the floor and dragged the IV pole to the scuffed cabinetry. Inside, I located a plastic laundry sack for patient belongings and piled in the extra pads left on the counter. I rummaged through every other nook and cranny in my room without finding much in the way of supplies.

I didn’t have any clothes available, so I’d have to source some on my way out.

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