Free Stone Cold by Cheryl Douglas

station to answer some questions about what happened. I have his cell number in case you need to reach him.”
    “Thanks.” Drake sat down in the same chair he’d occupied earlier.
    “You feel like talkin’ about it?” J.T. asked, sitting down beside him.
    He was so drained, physically and emotionally, he didn’t know how he would find the strength to repeat the story Phil had shared with him earlier. “I did this,” he said, leaning forward and covering his face with his hands. “If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have been living in that place and she would never have met that sick bastard.”
    “Come on, now,” J.T. said, nudging his shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself. You had no idea it would turn out this way.”
    “What the hell did I think would happen? I knew she had no other way of making a living. Her music was the only thing she had. It was her reason for getting out of bed in the morning, her reason for staying clean. Hell, it was the only thing she had that made her feel good about herself and I took that away from her.” The more he thought about it, the worse it made him feel.
    “You reacted the way any guy would’ve in your position, Drake. If I’d come in and found one of my brothers in bed with Nik, I probably wouldn’t have left until some of his blood was spilled.”
    “But it wasn’t his blood spilled. It was hers.” He opened his palms. “And now it’s on my hands.”
    “No, it’s not. You can’t think like that. It won’t help either one of you.”
    “J.T., she looked so broken.” His voice cracked as he thought of the ugly red and purple bruises marring her body, a sharp contrast to the stark-white sheets she was resting on.
    “I know, but she’ll heal. Every day will get better and before you know it, she’ll be back on her feet.”
    “You don’t know that,” he whispered, wishing someone could give him that kind of reassurance. “Neither do I.” He sighed. “The doctor said the next twenty-four hours are critical. I don’t want to leave, but they told me I can’t stay.”
    “You need to go home and get some rest. Grab a hot shower and a bite to eat. You’ll feel better.”
    If only his problems could be solved so easily. “I think I’ll just grab a room at a hotel nearby. I don’t want to venture too far, in case, you know, she needs me.”
    A nurse approached, handing Drake his credit card. “There are a few forms you need to sign, but that can wait.”
    J.T. leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. “You’re takin’ care of all of her medical expenses?”
    “Figured it was the least I could do.”
    If she’d come after him for half of everything he owned, they probably would’ve settled for tens of millions of dollars, but she’d walked away with nothing except a suitcase full of clothes and some jewelry. She hadn’t even taken the most expensive pieces tucked away in the safe.
    “You know she’d fight you on that if she could.” J.T. smirked. “She’s one of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met, except for my wife and daughter, maybe. I think that’s why I liked her so much, she reminded me of them.”
    “Please don’t do that,” Drake whispered, closing his eyes.
    “Do what?”
    “Don’t talk about her in the past tense. I’m not ready to let her go yet.”
    “Jesus, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean it like that.”
    “It’s okay.” Drake raised his hand. “I know you didn’t.” Getting to his feet, he said, “We may as well get out of here.”
    “Phil asked me to give them your contact information at the front desk,” J.T. said, falling in to step beside him.
    “He told the doctor I was still her fiancée. That’s the only reason they let me in to see her.” He didn’t know how he would have reacted if they’d denied him access to her, but he suspected he may be sharing a cell with the son of a bitch who’d put Cassidy in here if Phil hadn’t intervened.
    “I know. He told me.”
    They