Chapter Forty-Four
Maddox
I pace the overly excessive living room of Reign’s suite like a fucking animal. The lights are too bright, the room too cold, and every second that door stays shut, it feels like another knife in my chest.
I can still feel the weight of her in my arms, the way her head drooped against me, her body slack and barely conscious as I carried her through the back of the hotel and up the service elevator. I keep replaying it: Eli’s face, Beau holding her, that man’s smug smirk.
The door opens, and Dr. Hughes steps out, composed in the way only doctors and sociopaths can be in moments like this. His brown bag is in one hand, a stethoscope looped around his neck, face solemn as he gently pulls the door closed.
“She’s stable,” he says, lifting the stethoscope and tucking it away.
“What… What did he use?” My mouth feels like cotton, my words too thick to come out.
“We won’t know without a full tox screen, but based on her symptoms; loss of motor control, unresponsiveness, rapid fatigue, I’d say it’s consistent with GHB or Rohypnol.”
Reign steps up beside me, arms crossed. “Lockie found white pills on the guy in the club.”
Dr. Hughes nods solemnly. “Unfortunately, without getting them tested, whatever it was will most likely be out of her system before she even wakes up. I’m only working on assumptions.”
That doesn’t seem good enough.
“Is she…?” I swallow hard, eyes fixed on the door, unable to finish my sentence.
“You guys got to her just in time,” he says, grabbing his jacket from the back of the sofa and tugging it on. “But I’ve put her on IV fluids to flush it out quicker. No vomiting, no convulsions, and her vitals are strong. She just needs to sleep it off.”
Sleep it off, like it’s just a bad hangover and not a fucking brush with trauma. If we’d been a minute slower, if Beau hadn’t caught her in time, she could’ve ended up in an alley, or worse. And I’d have to live with that. Every goddamn day.
“And then?”
“I still recommend taking her to a hospital in the morning. Proper medical review, blood and urine tests, physical, just confirm there isn’t anything else in her system, log the incident properly.
” He pushes up his glasses and glances behind him.
“But it’s more than likely nothing will be detected.
These drugs act fast and are metabolized even faster.
For tonight, though, rest and hydration will do more than anything.
” He hands me a folded sheet. “My number’s on here. Call me if anything changes.”
“Thanks.” I nod, barely able to get the word out.
He clasps my shoulder firmly, then follows Reign as he shows him out. He returns with Beau, Eli, and Lockie trailing behind him, my bandmates looking stark white, still visibly shaken.
I don’t wait. I don’t ask if they’re okay, rounding on Eli.
“What the fuck happened?”
Eyes wide, his hands go up fast. “She was next to me the whole time. The guy just slid in all smooth and friendly. I swear, Maddox, he looked totally harmless.” He shakes his head, lips pulled tight. “I was watching her drink. I swear I was watching.”
Beau steps in between us. “She was fine. Then suddenly…gone.” He snaps his fingers. “Just like that.”
I rake a hand through my hair and tug, my pulse spiking. “We should’ve stopped it. Should’ve brought her back to VIP with us. He could’ve… Fuck, he could’ve…”
“We didn’t know,” Beau says quietly.
“This is my fault,” I hiss, my voice hoarse. “If I didn’t upset her, if I wasn’t such an asshole, she would have been up there with us, not in a situation that I should have—"
“Knox, stop,” Reign says, stepping in front of me and gripping my shoulders. “You were watching her the whole night. Everyone saw it. There was nothing you could’ve done.”
And even though that’s the truth, it still doesn’t touch the gnawing guilt chewing at my insides. I might’ve watched her like a goddamn hawk, like I always do. But still, it wasn’t enough.
I exhale hard, dragging the heel of my hand down my face.
“I need to see her,” I say as he lets me go.
“Okay. We’ll be out here. Take your time.”
The room is dim when I step inside, lit only by a floor lamp in the corner. An IV bag hangs beside the bed, a slow drip feeding into the cannula taped to the inside of her elbow. She’s lying on her side, curled slightly, breath soft and steady, a damp cloth resting on her forehead.
I lower into the armchair beside her, elbows on my knees, fingers laced tight, pressed against my mouth to keep from shattering.
She’s still, too still, the duvet pulled to her chest, skin ashen.
Her hair clings to her temple in sweat-matted strands, and I reach out, gently brushing it back with shaking hands.
“Maddox?”
Her voice is a breath, barely audible, as her eyes flutter open for a second before slipping shut again. But it’s enough.
It’s everything.
I’m on the bed in a heartbeat, pressing my mouth to her temple, cupping her face like it might keep her tethered here with me.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “Baby, I’m right here.”
Her breaths even out again, and my throat closes, my heart cracking wide open. Because this—this—is the moment. Not the number of shows we sell out. Not the deal we’re inches away from. Not the years I spent building walls no one could climb.
This. Her heartbeat under my palm, her skin beneath my fingers, this fierce, beautiful woman who plays like her soul’s on fire and who I’m hopelessly and stupidly falling in love with.
And the thought of tonight ending differently…
I ease down beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her close. Her body curls into mine instinctively, and I hold her, one hand cupping the back of her head, lips to her forehead, and murmur, “I’m here.”
And I would burn everything to the ground to keep her safe.
And that’s the problem.
Because there are things I’ve kept from her. Things that will be the reason she walks away for good. While Beau said us being together was bad for the band, he doesn’t know the extent of what I did.
And I don’t think I’ll survive Paige’s reaction if she ever finds out.