Like the words hit somewhere he’d buried years ago.
Rook glanced between us once.
Then quietlytouched his comm.
“Medic team now.”
Wolf muttered under his breath, “About damn time.”
Hersh never looked away from me.
Rain ran down his face.
Across the scar near his jaw.
Into the dark intensity in his eyes that suddenly looked almost wrecked.
“You ran into gunfire for me,” he said roughly.
“Obviously.”
His brows pulled together slightly like that answer hurt him.
Or meant too much.
“You should’ve stayed inside.”
“And you should stop taking bullets.”
A rough sound, almost like a laugh, escaped him.
Small.
Broken.
Beautiful.
Then his hand lifted slowly?—
cupping my cheek with bloodstained fingers.
The touch destroyed me.
Completely.
His thumb brushed beneath my eye.
Only then did I realize I was crying.
“Don’t cry for me, sweetheart.”
Too late.
Way too late for that.
Because somewhere between the ranch…
the letters…
