CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

ANNA'S POV

She sprinted out of the bathroom when she heard the first knock, almost breaking her head open in the process. Sure enough, the second one came from their door. She stared in shock, her head blank. Maybe it wasn't them; it couldn't be, right?

Just in case, though, she ran back to the bed, her heart stopping when she saw her friend on the bed. Tear tracks stained her face, but the more serious problem was the sound coming from her throat as she tried to take breath after breath.

"Rose," she cried, shaking her up.

As if that was what the attack was waiting for, she started hacking and coughing, her lungs struggling for oxygen. 

"Shit," she cried, pouring out her purse in the search for an inhaler. She didn't immediately see one, and she had to run out to the parlor area of the suite in search of Rose's bag.

The knock came again, startling her into flinging the bag away.

"What is it?" She cried at whoever was at the door.

"Anna," she heard Rose's father's voice. "Anna, is that you? Come and open this door."

Even with her panic, she snorted. The only people who could command her like that were people she'd willingly slept with or were willing to. No offense to her best friend, but her father would be the last person on any of those lists. 

"Break it down." She heard Laurent's rough voice and she shook her head as she rushed back to the room. 

If it was that easy, they should do so. Thankfully, she didn't hear the sound of something hitting the door. 

"Rose," she called her friend and when she opened her eyes, helped her use the inhaler. The medicated puffs of air were doing their job when she heard a sound she never, ever wanted to hear. A key card being authenticated.

"Keep breathing," she told her friend, who was now on her back. Rose nodded and she ran out of the room, closing the en-suite door behind her.

The room door opened and there were three people at the door. Laurent, Mr. Blackwell and someone she didn't recognize. 

She descended on the stranger first. 

"Is this the way you treat paying customers; I'll be sure to leave an appropriate review."

In the history of sarcastic comebacks, it wasn't her best, but she was running on fumes and scared. 

"Anna," Laurent said gently, moving closer and she held up her phone in a threat. 

"I'll scream if you come any closer, and I'll call the cops."

He looked back at the elderly man before returning his gaze to hers. She dialed 9-1- and showed him the screen. 

Same with the issue of the hotel voluntarily opening their door; she couldn't exactly win no matter what tactic she chose to follow, but she'd make enough of a scene. 

"I mean it." She said, looking at both of them.

The bank manager, most likely, gave her a sympathetic look before backing out of the room. And then there were three.

"Anna," Rose's father started with a serious, incredulous tone of voice. "You can't keep my daughter away from me."

"Oh, sure, I can. If she wanted to see you guys, she'd have picked up her phone, not dumped it in the nearest dumpster."

"She… what… the dumpster?" that was Laurent. "Why would she do that?" He asked in shock. 

"Probably because…"

He didn't give her a chance to finish. 

"Rose! Rose!! Rose!!!" He shouted, and she rushed to his side to cover his mouth. 

"Shut up," she whispered harshly, and he did. 

It was when she felt the lips under her palm stretch that she realized her mistake. Her eyes widened as they met those of the older man. There was no way he could get to the door before her.

As if they could both hear her, Laurent scoffed, and the old man frowned at her. She removed her palm, but that was as far as she got because he grabbed her by the wrist. 

She struggled and fought, but it was no use; the room door was open before she could stage any more intervention. 

She slammed her heel on his feet, and he released her with a pained gasp and a curse. She moved before revenge could occur to him, hastily following the man into the room. Rose was back under the covers, which was a serious relief. The fact that she'd had the strength to change positions meant she was feeling better. 

She crawled into the bed and under the covers until they were eye-to-eye. Rose's eyes were wide, and she clutched the inhaler in her tight fist, her breath whooshing out of her.

"Rose," she whispered. "Calm down. It's fine; I'm here."

She had to repeat it until it became an anthem before her friend believed it, the pulse in her neck gradually reducing speed as tears sprang into her eyes. 

"What do I do?" Her friend asked, and her heart broke at the pain that question bled.

Rather than respond with blanket consolation, she pulled her friend into a hug, her neck muffling the horrible sounds coming from her friend's throat. 

Until the cover was pulled off them. 

She looked up into the furious eyes of Laurent, noting her friend doing the same. 

"What?" she growled.

"Stay out of it," he hissed, his attention solely on Rose. "Do you know how worried your father and I have been? Where did you put your phone?"

Rather than answer, she grabbed the blanket back from him, draped it around herself, and then looked in the direction of her father.

"What are you doing here?"

"Rose," her father sighed, moving closer until she flinched away. He flinched again, and he gave another regretful sigh. I wanted to know that you were okay."

"Why?" she asked simply, and the man looked away. 

This time, it was her friend's turn to sigh.

"I'm fine; I'm okay. You can go now." she said in a low voice.

The two men looked at each other with a glance that she couldn't understand. Mr. Blackwell sat at the side of the bed where Rose was.

"We have to finish our discussion, baby. I won't be at peace leaving if you don't know the truth."

"Fine," her friend said, and her eyes darkened. She hadn't recognized the little iota of hope that had been in Rose's eyes and voice until it wasn't there again. Now, she looked empty.