Page 122 of When She Falls (The Fallen)
“Please, Cleo. Just do as I say. Go to your room.”
When she doesn’t move, Ras takes her arm and lifts her off the floor. “Go, Cleo.”
She blinks at me, her lips trembling, and she then turns to him. “Please take care of her.”
“I will,” Ras says.
“Don’t you dare leave,” Papà growls at me as Cleo runs out of the room. “You leave with him, and I swear, Gemma, you’ll regret it.”
Tears spring to my eyes. How could he do this? My own father?
Ras wraps his arm around my trembling shoulders. “Don’t listen to him. They’re nothing more than the words of a desperate man who’s aware his days at the top are numbered.”
Papà’s face blanches.
And with one final look at my cruel, broken father, I let Ras whisk me outside.
CHAPTER26
RAS
Snowflakes slapagainst my face as Gemma and I walk out the front door.
I shrug my jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders. She’s trembling, her skin white with shock except for the blooming pink mark on one side of her face.
He hit her there. He raised his hand and struck her.
My vision bleeds red. It takes everything for me to keep moving my feet forward instead of turning back around to finish what I started.
No matter how much I want to decimate Garzolo, my priority is Gemma.
I open the car door and help her inside, careful not to touch the side she’s clutching. She’s taking short, shallow breaths. The vein in her neck pounds fast and hard.
I lean over and clip in her seat belt. “You’re okay. I’ll make sure the doctor sees you right away.”
She nods, her hands finding mine.
“Show me where you’re hurt,” I ask, pulling a handkerchief from my pocket and pressing it against her bleeding bottom lip. When I pull it away, she seems surprised to see the fabric is stained red.
Garzolo split her lip.
I clench my jaw and swear to the heavens that Garzolo will pay.
“I don’t know,” she says brokenly. “My ribs, I think.”
“Okay, we’re going to figure it out.” I cup her cheek with my hand. “Gem, you’re safe now. I promise.”
Fear slips into her gaze. “Ras, you have to flee. Call Damiano. Papà—”
“Don’t worry about me.” She’s the one who’s hurt, and she’s thinking about me. The back of my throat prickles.Fuck. I can’t stand this.
I press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Give me your phone. We’re going to turn it off so that your father can’t track us while we get you taken care of.”
She slides it into my hand. “Where are we going?”
“To the closest hospital.”
“And afterwards?”
