"Where are you taking my husband?"
His voice came out dangerously low, balanced on the edge of breaking. The only thing holding him together was the sight of Xavier being wheeled away on a trolley by people he didn't know.
One of the men stepped forward.
A syringe was hidden behind his back as he approached Asher slowly.
"It's for the best, dear. Your friend has developed severe psychosis. He's seeing things that aren't there, so we have to take him for specialized treatment."
The explanation did absolutely nothing to calm Asher.
His gaze remained fixed on Xavier.
The trolley had already moved some distance away, but that didn't stop him from noticing the blood trailing down Xavier's forehead.
Immediately, tension gripped his body.
He almost jumped off the bed to rush over.
The man quickly stretched out a hand to stop him.
"Calm down. I'm here to help. Your friend is fine."
Asher glared at him.
