“Boss!” One of my guards runs up to me, his face flush as he tries to catch his breath. “I saw the girl go upstairs with a knife.”

“What? Why didn’t you stop her?” I don’t wait for an answer. My heart pounds so hard as I rush through the house, taking the stairs three at a time. I shove the bedroom door open. “Anna!” My eyes fly around the room, and it’s then that I hear a choked sob from the bathroom.

When I step into the bathroom, it’s like something out of a murder scene. Anna is sitting on the floor in a pool of blood, her back braced to the wall. She has a knife in one hand, and her other forearm is covered in deep bleeding gashes.

“Fuck. No, no, no.” I tear my shirt over my head and tie it tightly above her elbow. Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around her arm.

“Rafael.” She lifts her hand, trailing bloody fingers down my cheek.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I call the doctor.

“Hello.”

“You need to get here now!”

“I’m—”

“Anna slit her wrist.”

“Okay. I’m on my way. If you can, put her in an ice bath. It’ll slow her heart rate.” He hangs up, and I press my fingers to her throat. Her pulse is still okay. Reaching over to the tub, I turn on the cold water.

“Just hold on for me,” I say to her, dialing Carlos.

“Yeah,” he answers.

“I need as much ice as you can get in my bathroom. Now.”

I hang up and pick Anna up, placing her in the tub. She turns to look at me, and I see pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“Why would you do this?” My voice breaks in defeat. She’s always been the girl that I thought I could save, but never quite could.

“To feel,” she whispers. She closes her eyes for a second.

“Anna! Stay awake, baby.” Her eyes open again. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything.”

“I remember what it feels like,” she whispers.

“What?”

“To love you.” I’d normally be elated to hear that, but I’m fucking terrified. Blood is seeping through the white towel I wrapped around her forearm, staining the rising water a morbid pink.

“You slit your wrist, and now you want to talk about love?” I’m angry. I’m mad that she would do this, to me. To us.

“It was worth it.”

The door opens behind me. “Holy fuck.” I turn to face Carlos and take the bucket of ice from him. I pour it into the water, and Anna sucks in a sharp breath.

“I need more.” He nods, taking the bucket and walking out. Anna has closed her eyes again, and her lips are tinged blue. “Don’t die on me,” I whisper. “I need you.”

No response.

* * *

“She will be fine,” the doc says, glancing at her. She’s hooked up to a blood bag, her forearm covered in bandages. “But I think you need consider putting her in a facility.”

“What?”

“She needs professional help, Mr. D’Cruze. She’s a very troubled young girl.”

“Get out.”

With a sigh, he walks out of the room, leaving me alone with Anna. She’s sedated, so I know she won’t be waking up for a few hours, but I still have the urge to be with her. Carefully, I lay down beside her. I’ll be gone by the time she wakes up, and she won’t even know I was here. Creepy maybe, but I’m reduced to getting whatever small contact with her I can.

I rise to consciousness at the feel of something stroking over my jaw. Blinking my eyes open, I turn my face towards the source and find Anna. She’s on her side, her bandaged wrist clutched to her chest. Her free hand comes to rest on the side of my neck.

A soft smile touches her lips, and she looks more peaceful than she has since before she was taken. “Hey,” she whispers.

“Anna?” I frown. “How are you feeling?” It’s a stupid question. She slit her own wrist for fuck’s sake.

“I’m fine.”

I reach out and brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek. She doesn’t flinch, instead leaning into my touch. It’s like…she’s back. My Anna. But she’s not fine.

I press my lips to her forehead, inhaling the scent of raspberry for the first time in months because I haven’t been able to touch or even be close to her since I got her back. I missed this: the small things, the simple ability to reach out and touch her. There are a thousand things I need to say to her but now is not the time. She’s groggy and injured. She needs rest.

“You need to sleep.”

I pull back, and she grabs a handful of my shirt, almost in a panic. “You’ll stay though?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She relaxes, shifting closer to me until her head is on my chest, her bandaged arm resting on my stomach. It’s like a switch has flipped, and she’s finally here with me. I’m grateful, but I hate the idea that she had to try and kill herself before she got here.

I’ve failed her, but I will never let her down again.