Hours pass as I continue to sit in the cramped family waiting room. Others come and go. Some even attempt conversation with me but quickly give up when I give only clipped replies. I could give a fuck about discussing the weather or how the Panthers are doing in football this year. Rose is all that I can think about—anything else is just a waste of time.

When Matt finally comes in, I feel a moment's panic before I note his relaxed expression. I’ve been on the receiving end of his bad-news face before, and this isn’t it. I feel some of the tension seep from my back as he sinks into a chair and motions for me to do the same. “She’s going to be okay,” he says without further delay. “She nicked her femoral artery, but thankfully, she didn’t completely sever it. We’ve given her two pints of blood, and I’ve repaired the artery.”

“Thank God,” I sigh before scrubbing my hands over my face.

Before I can fully relax, his tone goes serious. “If you hadn’t found her when you did, Max, we would be having a very different conversation right now. For a woman her size, two pints of blood is a lot. People bleed out within minutes with an injury such as hers. This is twice in a few days that she’s cut herself. The age of her scarring says that she’s been doing this for some time, but I have to believe it’s escalating. Was she upset about anything?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, “but I think so. We went to dinner with friends, and she excused herself at one point to use the restroom. She was gone a long time, and when she returned, it was obvious something had occurred. She blamed it on an upset stomach, but I didn’t believe her. I don’t think her parents have her new cell phone number, but she may have called them for some reason.”

“She needs help, Max,” Matt says bluntly. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but one of my colleagues, Preston Holland, came to speak to me a few minutes ago when he found out that Rose had been brought in. Apparently, he’s a neighbor of her parents. He said that they had called him over twice when she attempted to kill herself as a teenager. The first time, she overdosed on her mother’s anxiety medication, and the second time, she slit her wrists. He was disturbed by how her parents treated the whole matter and was unnerved by their indifference to something he saw as very serious. He said he tried to talk to her father several times about getting treatment for her, but he always brushed it aside as her being difficult and trying to get attention.”

My head is spinning as I remember the scars I’d seen earlier on her wrists. Fuck, she’s tried to kill herself before. Did she accidentally cut too deep tonight or was it her intention to do much worse? Baby, no. “I don’t know what to do,” I admit, feeling helpless.

“We don’t have to decide anything today,” he says, “because I’m going to keep her overnight. But we need to be thinking of a game plan. Going by what you and Preston have told me, I don’t know how much help her parents will be. She is an adult, so they don’t have any legal bearing on her choices and care, but they are next of kin. I’d recommend treatment in a facility for at least thirty days, but most people are resistant to that step—especially at first. She needs to have the support of people who care about her and will advocate her getting help.”

I feel more than a little depressed as I say, “Outside of her parents, to my knowledge, she only has Lia, Lucian, and me.”

“Why don’t you give them a call and ask them to come by tomorrow afternoon? We can all get together and discuss the best approach. I’m in a bit of a tricky situation here. I can’t share anything further with you as her doctor, but as your friend, I’ll assist in any way I can. As reluctant as we may be, I need to contact her parents and update them on their daughter’s condition. Just try to make sure you’re here when and if they visit. I’ll keep an eye out as well.”

“Can I see her now?” I ask, needing to reassure myself that she’s okay. I can’t get the image of her lying on the bathroom floor covered in blood out of my head. I’d never seen so much blood. The smell. Sticky. Warm. I can’t get the image of her surrounded by the pool of blood out of my head. Perhaps, I never will. What is this girl doing to me? I’m not sure it’s good for me to stay …

“Sure.” He nods as we both get to our feet. “She’s probably going to sleep for the next several hours, so don’t be alarmed by that. You should go home and get some rest yourself. We’ll watch over her here.”

I feel my chest tighten as we make our way down familiar halls. It’s not the same. She’s fine. Keep it together.

Matt stops at a door at the end of the hall. “I going to check on a couple of patients since I’m here, then I’m going to catch some sleep. Give me a call if anything comes up. If not, I’ll see you here in the afternoon around two.”

“I really appreciate it.” I shake his hand before he turns to leave. I walk into the darkened room and am almost relieved. Rose looks like an angel as she lies on the crisp, white hospital sheets. She has an IV attached to one hand and still looks pale. Otherwise, she appears unscathed by what happened earlier. I know, though, that looks can be deceiving, and below the surface, she’s more damaged than ever.

I pull up a chair next to her bed and sink down heavily onto it. I take her hand and thread my fingers through hers before laying my head back. I’m too exhausted to process the events of the last few hours or to contact Luc and Lia, and at this point, I think that’s a godsend. I have no idea what will happen when she wakes, but for now, I can sleep knowing she’s alive to face another tomorrow.

---

My mouth feels as if it’s stuffed with cotton as I attempt to swallow. My eyes are heavy and fight me as I try to open them. Obviously, I didn’t sleep well last night or I wouldn’t still be this tired. I feel a moment’s panic as I think I may be late for work. I struggle through the layers of fog until I’m finally blinking away the vestiges of sleep. Or so I think. I don’t recognize my surroundings. Am I dreaming?

The sound of a soft snore fills my ears, and I look around to see Max in a chair a few feet away. His head is leaning back at an uncomfortable angle. His dark hair looks rumpled as if he’s run his hand through it many times. Then another snore, followed by a louder snort, before he sits up abruptly—looking as disoriented as I feel. “What … Rose?” he asks as if searching for some explanation. I hope he finds one because I have no idea what’s going on.

“I think I might be dreaming,” I offer. “I guess I brought you in with me. Where do you think we are? Not exactly a five-star hotel kind of fantasy is it?” I laugh hoarsely.

He gets to his feet and stretches. I don’t know why, but I sense he’s stalling. This is now officially the weirdest dream I’ve had and that’s saying something. Normally, if Max is present, then it at least contains some sexual overtones. But I’m not getting that this time at all. Shit, did someone die? He comes to sit next to me, and for the first time, I glance down and see what looks like a hospital bed. There’s also a plastic tube taped to the top of my hand. And what in the hell am I wearing? As if sensing my rising agitation, he puts a hand on my arm to brace me. “Sweetheart, what do you remember about last night?”

“Huh? I … um …” I rack my brain, trying to recall the previous evening. Bits and pieces begin to slowly filter back in, and I am finally able to answer. “We had dinner with Lucian and Lia, right?”

He nods encouragingly. “That’s correct. Then you went to the restroom and something happened there to upset you.”

Even though it’s phrased as a statement, I hear the underlying question. My thought process is still unusually slow as I push myself to remember more. Then it hits me and I’m unable to disguise my quick intake of breath. “I—no, it was just the food. Nothing happened.” Whereas I’d been almost languid before; now, it’s as if all my senses are in a state of heightened overload. Flight or fight syndrome, I think hysterically. He knows what they said. Please, no. Oh my God, what did I do? I jerk away from his touch, intent only on escaping. I have to get out of here. “Where the hell am I?”

I didn’t realize that I’d asked the last question aloud until Max clears his throat and says, “You’re in Asheville Downtown Hospital. I called an ambulance for you last night after you nicked your femoral artery.” He gives me a look of apology before adding, “Baby, I had no choice. You were close to bleeding out.”

All fight leaves my body. I collapse back against the pillows as I stare at the man who undoubtedly saved my life. “I’m sorry,” I whisper as I observe the agony on his face. He looks as bad as I feel. “I didn’t mean to cut that deep, I was just so upset after—” Too late, I realize I’ve as much as admitted that something other than the food got to me last night.

He encloses my hand between his, bringing it to his lips. He plants a soft kiss there then lays it directly over his heart. “Tell me what happened, honey. What drove you to hurt yourself last night? No more lies or half-truths between us.”

I feel the hot tears spill silently down my cheeks as the last of my walls fall away. I don’t have the energy to protect myself from him any longer. Maybe he will think I’m pathetic—but I don’t think so. Something about the way he’s looking at me leads me to believe he cares—possibly more than I’m able to comprehend. The voice in my head is screaming, you thought Jake understood, too. But I push it aside. I have nothing left to lose. If I’m going to survive, I have to trust someone, and right now, that’s Max. Taking a deep breath, I begin. “Jake was at Leo’s last night with his girlfriend and another couple. I went to the bathroom to regroup, and I heard someone come in. I didn’t feel like dealing with them, so I planned to remain in the stall until they left. It turned out to be his girlfriend and her friend, I think. And they were talking about me.”

“Fuck,” Max snaps before putting his hand protectively over my knee. “Sorry, please continue.”

“Anyway, the girlfriend was saying how Jake’s ex-girlfriend was there and how crazy she was. She mentioned my love of guns and how Jake was terrified of me.” Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “You read about stuff like that, you know. Overhearing others talking about you. I could have lived with the crazy part because let’s face it, I’m a bit out there at times. But when she moved on to me cutting myself, and the amount of scars that covered my body—I’m not going to lie, it got to me, Max. Until recently, I thought Jake was the only one to know my secret. And regardless of what an asshole he ended up being, I never imagined he would share something so private. Not only that, he belittled me to the girl he cheated on me with.” A sob breaks free as I whisper, “How could he do that to someone he supposedly cared about at some point? He knew how terrified I was of anyone else finding out. Yet he told her—of all people. Can you imagine how many others she’s taken great pleasure in sharing my secrets with?”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry,” Max says tightly, and then he pulls me into his arms. I can feel the suppressed rage in him at Jake’s actions. “I wish you had told me all of this last night. I hate that you had to deal with it alone. I’d like to go find the little fucker and kick his ass. I’ll never let him hurt you again.”

Out of nowhere, a giggle breaks through the sorrow as I picture Max in his impeccable suit wrestling my ex-boyfriend in the street. I have no doubt whatsoever that Max could snap Jake like a twig if he wanted to. I’m just surprised and more than a little moved by the possessive tone that his voice has taken. He gives me a questioning look, probably thinking I’ve officially lost it to jump from tears to laughter in the space of seconds. That’s what he does for me, though. In the midst of the darkness, he brings the light. “It’s nothing. Just enjoying the mental picture of you burying those expensive shoes up my ex-boyfriend’s behind. I gotta say, you’ll need to stand in line. If I ever see him again, he’ll be on the business end of my pistol.”

Max pulls back and groans. “It’s been at least a month since I bailed you out of jail the last time. By all means, do something that will get you arrested again. The police chief and I are getting to be good friends. We’re going golfing next week. And I owe it all to you.”

I stick out my tongue at him, unable to resist this playful side. “So when are you breaking me out of here?” I ask, looking around the dismal white room. Immediately, his expression sobers, and he looks away. I lay a hand over his, bringing his attention back to me. “What? Is something wrong?” The irony of that question isn’t lost on me. Of course, there’s something wrong. You almost killed yourself. Have I really gotten to the point that a near death miss doesn’t faze me? Yes, probably more so than I realized. Was I expecting Max to take me somewhere for a late breakfast while we laughed off my latest lapse in judgment?

He pinches the bridge of his nose, looking as if he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. I’ve done that to him. I dropped my problems at his door and now he feels responsible for me. Finally, he cups my face in his hands and says, “You can’t continue on like this, sweetheart. I know I’ve said that before, but this is different. I’m very afraid that the next time we end up here, you won’t be leaving with me.”

“So, is this your way of telling me to find my own ride?” I joke even though I’m crumbling inside. He’s giving me an ultimatum. Either get my shit together, or that’s it. He’s walking away. And I can’t blame him. We’re not even in a relationship, and I’ve turned his whole life upside down.

I jump back when he suddenly yells, “Goddammit, stop with the jokes! What do you find funny about dying? Because I can tell you right now, it’s not a laughing matter to me. The thought of losing you is fucking ripping me to pieces.” As I stare at him, he lowers his voice to add, “Please, baby, help me. I know it’s easier to run from the pain than it is to face it, but that’s not working anymore. So many people in life never have the choice, but you do. If you won’t do it for yourself, please do it for me.”

Then I see a sight that slays me.

He wipes away a tear before it can fall from his eyes. We’re not even in a relationship and I’ve turned his whole life upside down. It would be wrong for me to trust him. He’s a good man who has good intentions, but he, like Jake, and like my father, must be well and truly ready to wash his hands of me. He seems into me, but who am I to read people well? Only one boyfriend. Only one girl friend too, for that matter. Maybe everyone else in my life has been right to keep their distance. I don’t want to be a burden anymore, but I don’t know how to escape his care, his pity.

“Max,” I murmur. “Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll stop cutting. I promise I won’t do it anymore.” Liar. You can’t stop; it owns you. You’re weak.

As if he can hear my inner torment, he says, “Baby, it’s beyond you now. When you’re in pain, you’re going to hurt yourself to deal with it. But the small cuts that you started with are no longer helping you. That’s why you’re having more close calls. It’s no different than a drug addiction. It gets harder and harder to get the feeling you need so you increase the dose, or in your case, you cut deeper.”

Before he can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door and then it swings open. My mouth drops in shock as I see not only Lucian and Lia walk in, but my parents trailing behind them. I blink a few times, thinking this must surely be some kind of bad dream. “How—?” I ask as I look from them to Max. As if things couldn’t possibly get more embarrassing, Matt Foster steps in at the last moment. The silence is deafening, as everyone seems to be waiting for something.

Matt gives Max a look that seems to spur him into action. He clears his throat and gives me an uneasy look. “Rose—sweetheart, I realize that you’re probably going to be angry with me, but I asked our friends and your family to come here today to offer you support and also—”

“Oh my God,” I say disbelievingly. “This is an intervention, isn’t it?” I’ve never actually been a part of one, but I watch reality television just like everyone else. A part of me wants to sit back and observe the show until I realize I’m the star of this particular one. Then I’m just angry, so fucking enraged. I trusted Max with the worst part of me, and he sold me out. They all know now; I can see it in their eyes—the uneasiness, the damn pity. And the humiliation on my parents’ faces. This is their worst nightmare. I’ve ruined the Madden name. They’re probably wishing it had just been alcohol or an oxy addiction. Those are common and somewhat fashionable among the rich. But no, their daughter cuts herself. More proof I can’t do anything right. “How dare you?” I hiss as I glare at Max. “You promised you would help me and this is how you do it? By betraying me?”

“Rose.” Matt steps forward, holding up a hand as if to stop my tirade. “This wasn’t Max’s idea. It was mine. We actually spent most of the time that you were asleep arguing about it. But in the end, neither of us could see another way. The people in this room care about you. They’re your support system.”

“You can’t discuss my medical records or treatment without my consent,” I snap at him.

He nods his head. “That’s correct and I won’t be. That’s why your friends and family are here. You and I don’t know each other very well, but I do care about what happens to you.”

Lucian steps forward, and everyone in the room seems shocked when he says in his usual commanding voice, “I’d like to speak to Rose alone if you don’t mind.” There is some shuffling of feet, but surprisingly, everyone turns to leave. Max looks hesitant, but finally gets to his feet and shuts the door behind him. Wow, Lucian Quinn really is all powerful. I can’t imagine my parents meekly following orders from anyone else. They must surely be dying to tell me what an embarrassment this whole situation has been for them.

“Is this the tough love portion of the show?” I ask bitterly as I frown at the man I’ve come to think of as a brother.

He laughs, before lowering himself into the chair at my bedside. He appears completely relaxed as he stretches his long legs before him. “It’s love most certainly,” he answers, “and yeah, sometimes that’s tough.” Silence fills the small space as I wait to see what he’ll say next. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I always knew there was more going on behind the bullshit blinders you presented to the world.”

“If this is supposed to be your version of a pep talk, it sucks,” I huff out. How many more indignities will I be forced to endure today?

He has the audacity to wink at me, totally ignoring my blustering. “I know a kindred spirit when I see one, Rose. I spent years addicted to cocaine and only a few people in my life knew it. I was fully functional on it. Hell, in my opinion, it made me a better version of myself most days. Hence, I was never inclined to give it up, even though I knew I was playing with fire. Truthfully, no matter how weak it made me feel that I couldn’t stop, I don’t know if I ever would have if not for Lia. Loving her meant that my life was no longer just mine to risk. She owned a piece of me and she damn well deserved better that some man who needed to snort a white line in order to deal with day-to-day life. When she caught me using, it was almost a relief. I can’t tell you how ashamed I was to have someone who endured what she had discover my secret. I’d never felt like less of a man than I did at that moment.”

The fact that Lucian is sharing his darkness with me so candidly is shocking to say the least. I’ve always liked the man, and can understand why Lia is completely head-over-heels, but we haven’t said much to each other really. He understands my darkness. He’s not judging me. What will he do if I share some of my brokenness and darkness with him, though? “That’s why I didn’t want to tell her,” I admit softly. “She’s been through more than I can even imagine, and she’s the strongest person I know. I feel like a coward in comparison. I—I got so tired of never being good enough. No matter what, I was always a disappointment to my family. And every year it seemed to get worse. After a while, I lost sight of who I was and simply became Hoyt and Celia’s daughter—the chronic underachiever.”

“I understand, Rose, I really do,” he says earnestly. “Pain is pain, no matter the root cause. After dealing with the constant negativity that was Cassie, I realize how poisonous words can be. To feel as if you’re letting down the people you care about is demoralizing and it chips away at the very fabric of who you are as a person. When Cassie and I were together, there were more times than I even care to admit that I didn’t want to go home. The impending verbal backlash from whatever way I’d supposedly let her down that day was a torture that was as depressing as it was predictable. The sad part was that like any repeated pattern, I became almost used to it after a while—but the hurt it caused never lessened. Her arrows found their mark time and time again. Coke gave me a way to escape from all of those memories. I could pretend I was invincible. That I’d never hurt anyone and never been hurt.” He dropped his head for a moment, seemingly fascinated with the pattern of the tile on the floor. “I realize now that I was only going through the motions. Nothing touched me until Lia, and even then, I was using it to insulate me from the feelings she stirred within me.”

My fingers pluck nervously at the stiff sheet covering me as I admit, “I don’t know why I’m like this, Luc. I think something’s wrong with me. After what Cassie did to you, I can understand why you’d need a way to deal with trauma. But nothing like that has ever happened to me. I’m almost certain I was actually happy at one time. Then it’s as if I couldn’t handle life anymore. I started having crazy dreams that made no sense, so I was barely sleeping. Then I ended up taking pills to help me when I got to the point that I was so sleep deprived I couldn’t function.”

Lucian tilts his head, looking at me in question. “What kind of dreams?”

I shrug my shoulders, but I’m suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing horrible or anything. It’s just this woman who I don’t recognize. She keeps telling me that I don’t belong—I’m not one of them. Then she begins crying and screaming so loudly that it hurts my ears. Someone pulls me away from her, but I don’t see who. I always wake up when she’s sobbing, ‘I’m so sorry, Poppy, please forgive me.’”

Lucian appears riveted by the dream that has haunted me for so long. The fact that I’ve had that same dream on and off for over fifteen years is something I’ve never mentioned to anyone but my parents. They’d brushed it off as they did most things in my life. “Poppy?” Lucian asks. “Do you know anyone by that name?”

Shaking my head, I say, “Nope, sure don’t. Points to me for originality in my dreams though, right?”

Giving me a smile I can’t help but be dazzled by, he moves in for the kill. “I’ve been seeing a therapist twice a week who I think you’d like. Her name is Joanna Chase, and she’s been a big help to me in gaining insight and control over my addiction.” I’m on the verge of blasting him for even suggesting such a thing when he tosses in something that has me rethinking my aversion to a shrink. “I mentioned her to your parents, and they were completely opposed. Let me know in no uncertain terms that you wouldn’t be interested in talking to a stranger about your issues.”

And there you go, folks. Once again, fucking parents of the year. I know them well enough to guess that this has little to do with me and everything to do with the Madden name. Rehab, sure. Your daughter in a nuthouse, hell no! “So I assume you’ve already made an appointment for me,” I say and know I’m right when he gives me a sheepish grin. In that moment, I understand once again why Lia loves this man so much. The fact that he’s absurdly hot has little to do with his appeal. It’s the man underneath that makes him so attractive. I know without him saying it that he’d do anything in his power to help me. Sharing his personal struggles with cocaine could not have been easy for such a private person, but he did it to show me that I’m not alone. He, better than anyone, understands how crippling the shame and self-loathing is when you can’t stop the behavior that is destroying your life.

Lucian gets to his feet and perches in the place Max recently vacated. He pulls me into his arms and hugs me tightly. “Lia and I are here for you. You’re family to both of us.”

“That’s good,” I say huskily, “because I might need somewhere to stay. I’m kind of homeless right now, and my parents aren’t likely to welcome me back anytime soon after this bit of trashy behavior.” I bite my lip as I realize that I’ve so much as admitted that my romance with Max was a sham. He’d certainly never believe his friend would kick me out on the street or dump me in my time of need. Other than a slight, knowing smile, he doesn’t question me on my slip of the tongue.

Lucian winces as he ruffles my hair. “No offense, Rose, but they’re kind of assholes. I’m not sure how you turned out so well coming from those two.” I roll my eyes, thinking his comment about me turning out well might be a little far-fetched given I’m sitting in a hospital bed after cutting myself. “Anyway, I took the liberty of making you an appointment with Joanna for tomorrow afternoon at four. I’ll pick you up at your office around three-thirty.”

“Wait … what?” I stutter out. “You’re going with me?”

Lucian looks surprised by my question. “Well, of course. I know how hard taking the first step can be. I wasn’t kidding when I said we’re going to be with you, Rose. And you’re more than welcome to stay with us, although I have a feeling Max will be opposed to that idea.”

“You know we’re not actually involved,” I point out. “I don’t think you ever believed that we were.”

Lucian stands and straightens his clothing before acknowledging my statement. “Maybe not officially, but something has been there since almost the first. I’ve never known Max to be rattled by anything or anyone until he met you. It may take you both some time to figure it all out, but he’s crazy about you and I believe you feel the same.” Lia has certainly worked her magic softening this man.

I’m still mulling his words when the door opens and a rumpled Max walks in. He looks briefly at Lucian before running his eyes over me as if checking for any new injuries.

And it’s there, in a hospital room wearing an ill-fitted gown with no makeup on and hair that feels like a rat’s nest, that it hits me.

I’m in love with Max Decker.

I’ve been in lust with him for a while, and I’ve hoped that someday he would have feelings for me. But a part of me never dared to hope that anything would ever come of it. To become involved with him would mean that he would know my secret and I’m not certain I could have let that happen. Now, I’ve been laid bare for all to see, and he’s still here. Oh God, he hasn’t left me. In fact, he’s looking at me in a way that gives me hope that Lucian’s right. Could he feel the same? Before I can stop myself, I extend a hand, needing to feel his skin against mine. I wonder if he knows that there is nothing simple about the gesture. I’ve given him the power to bring more pain into my life than I’ve ever inflicted. For I thought at one time I had loved Jake, but now, I realize that he only ever had a small part of me. I know instinctively that Max would never allow me to hide. A love between us would burn so hot that we’d either be consumed by the flame or welded together so tightly that one simply could not exist without the other. Even as fear fills me at the thought, I thread my fingers through his—anchoring my destiny to the one man I fear I can’t survive without.