Page 120 of Chasin’s Surrender

I shoved my face against Chasin’s neck and lost it.

Chasin cradled me in his arms. I burrowed in, and all the fear I’d locked inside of me shattered in a rush of emotions.

“Get it out, Evie,” he cooed. “Get it all out.”

So that’s what I did.

I got it out.

I exploded with it.

Chasin held me through the sobs and the shakes. He held me on the drive to the hospital. He told me Bobby was safe. She was hurt but would be okay. He explained that Holden was going into surgery.

Through all of it, I said nothing.

33

Fucking Christ.

Hours and hours of silence.

Genevieve hadn’t uttered a goddamn word.

Not since she wailed Holden’s name. Not even when they’d gotten to the hospital and Chasin had finally taken her into the bathroom and washed her up. He’d changed her blood-soaked clothes and she didn’t speak a single word.

All he could do was hold her as they sat in a private waiting room waiting to get the word about Holden. It didn’t look good. He’d lost a shit ton of blood.

Christ, he’d never forget hearing Genevieve screaming at Bent. He could live to be a hundred and five and never would the words: Do it, Bent, pull the trigger. You’re gonna do it anyway. There’s not a damn thing I can say that will stop you. I hate you. Leave his mind.

Pull the trigger.

Fucking shit.

Two seconds—that’s all he’d had to spare. All it would’ve taken was two more seconds and Genevieve would’ve been dead.

Gone.

Lost to him forever.

He shoved those thoughts from his mind and concentrated on the silent woman on his lap. She was clinging to him like he was her lifeline. Macy had been up a few minutes ago to give Evie an update on Bobby and she’d barely blinked as Macy told her once the CT results were back and there were no issues, she’d be released.

Genevieve still hadn’t rallied. The only reason Chasin knew she heard was because tears leaked from her eyes. Christ, so many tears. He had no idea someone could shed so many fucking tears.

Chasin lifted his chin off Evie’s head and glanced around the room. Nixon had his arm around McKenna and he knew she was crying again. Nix looked ready to murder someone. Jameson didn’t look any better, even with Kennedy slowly stroking his arm, offering her man comfort. Weston and Silver were the only ones standing—over by the window, removed as far as they could be in the small room. She was tucked to his front, face in his neck, and his arms were around her.

Alec and Macy were with Bobby, and so was Jonny.

Vaughn had briefly come to the hospital, mainly to check on Holden but also to tell Chasin he’d hold off the police as long as he could. Which was to say, twenty-four hours, tops. There were cameras set up outside, but none in the house, and McKenna had already forwarded the footage to the police. Jonny had also been less than five feet behind him when he’d snapped Bent’s neck. He felt not a single ounce of remorse ending that fucker’s life.

He felt he was within his rights, but couldn’t bring himself to spare a bit of worry over the legalities of what he’d done. Not when Genevieve was hurting.

His gaze fell to the woman in his arms and his heart ached.

“Evie, baby,” he called.

Nothing.

“You’re scaring me. Please say something.”