Page 99 of The Broken Keys

“Nothing that matters.”

“She loves me too, Jaxon. And that matters very much to me.”

My phone buzzes again. Another update from Axel. They’ve identified the make and model of the SUV from traffic cameras. A Chevy Tahoe, black, and untraceable.

This screams it was a professional, organized hit. Exactly what I feared.

They’re going to come after her again. The realization settles in my bones like ice. Before I can respond, the double doors swing open.

A doctor in blue scrubs steps into the waiting room, his expression neutral but tired. He’s older, maybe sixty, with gray hair and steady hands that have probably seen countless emergencies.

“I’m Dr. Smith.” He sweeps his gaze around the empty room, then back to Cash and me. “You two must be here for the alias, Bridget Parks.”

“Livianna Hemings.” I step forward, my heart pounding against my ribs. “How is she?”

“She’s stable.” He fidgets with a mask he’s holding. “We’ve completed the initial evaluation and moved her to a private room. The concussion is severe, but there’s no brain bleeding. Her other injuries are manageable. We’re optimistic about her recovery.”

My muscles relax in an instant as relief floods through me with such vigor that I almost have to stabilize myself by grabbing hold of his arm. “Can I see her?”

“There’s something you should know first.” Dr. Smith’s expression shifts to something more complicated. “She woke up for a moment as we were getting her settled in the room.”

My pulse spikes. “And?”

“She was confused and disoriented, which is normal with head trauma of this severity.” He pauses, his gaze moving between us. “Which one of you is Callum?”

His question takes me aback.

Cash steps in front of me. “I’m Callum.”

Dr. Smith waves toward the double metal doors. “She’s asking for you. Come with me.”

“Wait.” I claim the space between Cash and Dr. Smith. “I’m her partner. Not him.”

The doctor halts, and his face screws up in confusion. Cash whips around to face me, but before he can say anything, Dr. Smith jumps in.

“Excuse me?” He glances between us. “I don’t understand. She specifically asked for Callum.”

“Because she’s disoriented from the head trauma.” I close the distance between us. “I’m Jaxon Crowne. I’ve been in a relationship with Livianna Hemings for over two years. He’s her ex-boyfriend from five years ago.”

Cash moves into my space, his back straightening. “She asked for me. Not you.”

“She’s confused. She doesn’t know what she’s saying right now.” All my fight roars to life. “Did you not hear Dr. Smith? He just got done telling us she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Or maybe she knows exactly what she’s saying and you can’t handle it.” Cash’s breathing picks up. “Maybe she wants the person who was actually there for her when she needed someone.”

That does it. I square off with him. “You were there for maybe two weeks. I’ve been there for over two years.”

“Have you?” Cash gets closer, forcing the doctor to step back.

“Gentlemen, please.” The doctor raises his hands. “I can’t allow either of you in if you’re going to?—”

“Dr. Pembrook.” I cut him off, my tone shifting to the one I use in boardrooms when negotiations aren’t going my way. “He and I have worked on donations I’ve given to the hospital.”

“I…” Dr. Smith swallows hard. “Yes, Mr. Crowne. Now that you mention it, I’m aware of your support.”

“Then I’m sure he’d be interested to know that one of his doctors is preventing me from seeing my partner based on the confused ramblings of a woman with severe head trauma.”

Cash’s eyes narrow. “Are you seriously threatening this man right now?”