text: "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
  
  Eliot's voice was the last thing Blaine expected to hear in a Russian hospital waiting room.
  
  All the anger that had been festering within her since the police arrived at the cemetery flooded her veins. With her nostrils flaring on her rough breaths, Blaine stood. Her cell phone slipped from her lap and fell with a clunk to the floor.
  
  Hands fisted, she took a step forward. The police had taken a shackled Alex back to the station before she was able to get her answers. Eliot would give them to her. Or he would pay.
  
  Eliot rushed forward and grabbed her arms. "Avery told me everything, what you went through. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry."
  
  While Avery went to the police, her mother had accompanied Blaine to the hospital. Thankfully, her mother was meeting with the head of the hospital, arranging the best care for Jack. Blaine didn't need a witness to see her losing her shit or possibly attacking a member of the extended royal family.
  
  "Why aren't you sharing a cell with your assistant?" Blaine got up in Eliot's face. "Or don't they know how you were in on this? How the two of you planned to kill us?"
  
  Releasing her, Eliot pressed his hands to his eyes and turned away. "I didn't know. I didn't, Blaine. I swear on my country's flag, my father's name, my mother's life, anything you'd believe. I didn't know."
  
  The sincerity and pain in Eliot's voice stopped her from flinging more hateful words at him. "Why are you in Russia?" One question at a time.
  
  "Alex called me." Eliot made a disgusted sound. "He missed me. Said he was bored and lonely. You didn't want him hovering over you while you visited your mother. So, I…I flew in this afternoon. We were going to spend the weekend together."
  
  "You're together, aren't you? As in, together. You and Alex. He's not just your employee."
  
  "Were together. Past tense, Blaine." Eliot pivoted. "We're over. I want to see him locked away for a long, long time for what he did to you. He could've killed you."
  
  "Jack wouldn't have allowed that." Blaine pointed a shaky finger toward the hall. "He acted as my shield. He took the bullets meant for me."
  
  Eliot looked in the direction she indicated, even though there was nothing there to see. "Will your fiancé be okay?"
  
  Blaine swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight, dry. "Jack made it through surgery. That's all I know. He hasn't woken up yet."
  
  Eliot dipped his head. With his gaze on the floor, he exhaled slowly. "I'm glad Jack was there for you, but from what Alex has told me, you weren't the target today."
  
  "I don't understand. You just told me Alex could've killed me. A bullet might've done that. Had it not been for Jack—"
  
  "Not tonight, Blaine. You weren't the target tonight."
  
  Blaine eased away from Eliot. "What do you mean?"
  
  "I mentioned to Alex that I wished you couldn't sing anymore because it was the only way I saw you ever agreeing to play the violin for me." Eliot slid his focused gaze to the scar on her face. "It appears he took my frustrated rant over your stubbornness as an order."
  
  Blaine covered her cheek. "Alex did this? How? He was right there after the attack and…"
  
  "Was in the range to throw that star." Eliot sat on one of the hard plastic chairs. He dropped his head into his hands. "He'd said to me afterward…after it came out that you'd have lasting damage and your singing might not…that your career was likely over." Eliot cleared his throat. "Alex said it was…it was convenient the attack wouldn't affect your ability to play the violin. I'd thought the comment odd but wrote it off as being something Alex would say. He wasn't the most socially acceptable man, which is why I kept our relationship a secret."
  
  "Did he admit to throwing the star?"
  
  Eliot nodded. "Yes, today. When I talked to him at the police station, I lied to him. Told him I'd get him out of this mess if he told me everything, so he did. I didn't know anything before this, Blaine. I swear it."
  
  Her stomach churned. She covered her mouth as bile burned her throat. "Alex has been with me for months."
  
  "He said he saw no reason to intervene again until he uncovered another obstacle preventing you from agreeing to the tour."
  
  "Jack." She whispered his name.
  
  "Your focus should be on your violin, not a man." Eliot raised a hand. "Alex's words, not mine."
  
  "I'm glad to hear that, Eliot William Sutherland." Her mother's voice boomed in the small waiting room. "I'll be sure to tell your mother the truth when she demands you to be written out of her will. Maybe she'll have pity on you."
  
  Eliot pinched his nose. "If loving the wrong person makes me guilty, then I deserve whatever my mother deems my fate."
  
  Blaine went to where her mother stood next to a doctor. "If the police let Eliot go, then they don't think he was involved with Alex's plans. We can't fault him for them."
  
  Blaine's mother wrinkled her nose in annoyance, then glared at Eliot. "I've called your mother. She's on her way."
  
  Eliot inclined his head and slumped in his chair.
  
  The doctor spoke up. "If you're finished, Mr. Sander is asking for you. I can't promise how long he'll be conscious, but if you'd—"
  
  "Take me to him, please." Blaine grabbed the doctor's hand.
  
  He led them down a series of corridors to a quiet section of the hospital where the beeping of monitors offered the only background noise. The doctor opened the door to one of the rooms.
  
  A sheet covered Jack's body. Bags of clear liquid dripped into an IV line. The monitors around him recorded vitals. Blaine glanced from the steady, stable readings to Jack's face. His eyes were closed.
  
  She rushed forward and gently took his hand. "Is he going to be okay?"
  
  "With time and physical therapy, he should make a complete recovery."
  
  "Thank God." Blaine pressed her forehead to Jack's stomach.
  
  "We'll give you some privacy, darling. I'll be back soon."
  
  Blaine heard her mother's words and the softly closing door, but she couldn't lift her head to respond. Despite the doctor's prediction that Jack would be fine, she couldn't stop the tears. Jack had gotten hurt because he'd shielded her with his body. He was her own personal hero.
  
  The soft stroking of fingers along her head jerked her head up. Jack's half-lidded eyes met hers. "Hey, angel."
  
  "Jack." Blaine leaned over the bed and pressed kisses to his face. "You're going to be okay. The doctor said so."
  
  "That's good to know." His slurred voice sounded sleepy, groggy.
  
  "You should rest, but don't worry, I'm not leaving your side. I've got you, Jack."
  
  "Is it safe for you…to be here?"
  
  Of course he'd think of her first. She brushed her cheek against his beard. "Yes. Alex is in police custody. He admitted to everything, even the attack on me. He threw the star so I wouldn't be able to sing anymore, so I'd join Eliot's orchestra. Eliot didn't know anything about it. I believe him, Jack. This was all on Alex."
  
  "Eliot did say Alex was the best assistant he ever had. Always got things done."
  
  She snorted. "Attacking me was a little extreme."
  
  "It worked. You're not singing anymore. At least not for a while."
  
  "True." Blaine rested her head on Jack's pillow. "But I still don't know if I want to play in Eliot's tour."
  
  "We'll decide later. Okay?"
  
  "We?" She grinned. "Do you get a say in this now?"
  
  "Yep." Jack's eyes closed. "We're a we now. We decide things together."
  
  "Can we agree on waiting on a formal wedding and only doing what's legally necessary now?"
  
  "Sure. We will."
  
  His breathing deepened as he drifted off to sleep. Blaine stared into Jack's face for a long time, then smiled. She liked the sound of "we" much better than "me."