Page 146 of I Know Your Secret
"I can't lose you. I need you to fight." I press harder into his wound, and he groans.
"Rich, coming from you. You already tried to kill me once before."
"Now is not the time to bring that up."
"Now's the perfect time. You're trying to save me this time, poison. That mean you like me?"
I scoff, rolling my eyes with a sniffle. "Hardly."
He laughs, blood coating his teeth as the doors to the roof slam open and equally as menacing-looking men storm out.
A couple of them flip Brian over and check for a pulse, while two of them push me away from Koen and start working on him.
I stand in wait, chewing on my blood-covered finger as Koen's life hangs in the balance.
"Chase, we have to stop him," I whisper, feeling foolish for speaking into the comm with so many people surrounding me.
"We're going to. For good."
Hours later, Koen is resting in his bed, an IV drip pole beside him, and a man in a suit is speaking to Chase.
I've washed all the blood off me, but I can still smell it.
"He needs a full military funeral, "Chase tells the man.
"And he'll get it. But this needs to be cleared up beforehand."
Chase shares a look with me. "We'll get it done."
"Be sure that you do. And Director Raymond sends his regards for your loss, as well as the message that you don't need to worry about the death being tied back to you or Mr. Grady, per usual."
I hate the way he saysper usual, but I remind myself that they live a different life than I do.
But looking over to where Koen moans in his sleep as he attempts to move, I decide maybe I don't live a life much different from them any longer.
And maybe that doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would.
36
Greer
Looking over Koen as he sleeps, I wipe away a tear as a nurse assigned to him by hiscompany,which is the entire reason he’s in the fucking bed in the first place, scribbles something into her notes in his chart.
The doctor has come and gone, and only spoken to Chase.
I feel like I’m in the way. It feels like I’m holding progress back, and it’s making me antsy.
I squeeze Koen’s hand, hating how innocent and helpless he looks.
Medical coma, the doctor told Chase.
Because men like Koen don’t sit still, they keep fighting, even with bleeding wounds in their stomachs.
“You need to eat,” Chase says, rolling up beside me in his chair. His hand is warm against my cold skin, and it makes me realize how chilled I am.
I haven’t felt for days. Not since I found Koen and felteverythingall at once.
I can’t leave him.
