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Chapter 320
Chapter 320:
He tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed again, but his body refused. A wave of dizziness from the concussion washed over him and he slumped back against the headboard, panting, his entire frame trembling with equal parts pain and hatred.
“You absolute, pathetic piece of trash!” Crawford screamed, his voice raw. “You stand in this hospital and threaten to lock June in a legal cage forever! You claim she is yours! And then you go straight to a hotel and sleep with your dead brother’s mistress p>
Cole’s head hung forward. He could not meet Crawford’s eyes.
“I didn’t know,” Cole choked out, his voice weak and hollow. “I was drugged. I was drunk. I don’t remember any of it p>
Crawford let out a bark of manic, disgusted laughter.
“You don’t remember?!” he yelled. He lunged forward as far as his broken body would allow, his hand shooting out and clamping onto the collar of Cole’s shirt. He lacked the strength to haul him upright, but his grip was iron. “You are a coward!” Crawford spat, shaking Cole with the last reserves of his strength. “You are too much of a coward to love June properly, and too much of a coward to let her go! You destroy everything you touch p>
The agonizing pain in his chest finally forced Crawford to release his grip. He collapsed back against the pillows, gasping.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?!” Cole screamed back, tears of pure despair cutting down his face. “I ruined everything! I took Alycia’s innocence! I have to marry her! I have to take responsibility p>
𝗗𝗼n’𝘁 𝘮𝗂𝘴ѕ n𝖾w 𝘳e𝘭еа𝘀е𝘀 o𝗇.с𝗈𝗺
The word marry landed like a final, detonating insult.
The hospital door was thrown wide open.
Julian Thorne sprinted into the room. “I got a call from hospital security about a disturbance!” he yelled, taking in the blood and chaos with visible horror. “I knew you were going to do something stupid!” He threw himself between the two men, grabbed Cole from behind, wrapped his arms around Cole’s chest, and wrenched him backward, away from the bed.
“Stop it! You are in a hospital!” Julian shouted, using every ounce of his leverage to pin Cole against the wall.
Cole stopped fighting. He slumped against Julian’s grip, his chest heaving, blood from his split lip dripping onto his white shirt. His eyes were completely dead.
Crawford lay against the pillows, breathing hard.
Slowly, he pressed himself back upright. He raised the back of his hand and wiped the fresh blood from his mouth with a calm, deliberate motion.
Then he looked up. His eyes found Cole and held.
The violent rage was gone — replaced by something far colder, and far more terrifying.
The chaotic violence in the hospital room evaporated, leaving behind a heavy, suffocating silence.
The only sounds were the ragged, desperate breaths of three men.
Julian slowly released his grip on Cole’s shoulders and stepped back, keeping his hands raised, ready to intervene if either injured man lunged again.
But there was no fight left in Cole. He remained slumped against the wall, head hanging low, his ruined shirt stained with his own blood. He looked like an empty shell.