(Kyle's POV)
The hospital air still clung to my clothes, sterile and suffocating, even after I left the building.
The cool wind brushed past me, but it did nothing to calm the fire boiling inside me.
I slammed the car door shut, gritting my teeth as the image of Darius holding Ayra replayed in my head like a bad movie stuck on a loop.
I couldn't get it out of my mind.
The way she looked at him.
The way he touched her like she belonged to him.
I hit the steering wheel hard in rage before I pulled out my phone and called Sasha.
My thumb hovered over the call button for a second.
I knew she wouldn't like being dragged into this so soon, but I didn't have the luxury of time.
I pressed the button.
"Hey," her voice answered on the second ring, smooth and sleepy. "I was just about to get into a bath."
"We need to talk. Now."
"Whoa, easy there, tiger," she said with a chuckle. "Miss me already?"
"I need to see you. Let's meet at the usual place."
