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Joy stayed frozen behind the log for a long moment, her eyes wide with shock. Then she was moving, scrambling over the fallen tree and stumbling toward me.

I caught her in my arms despite the way it made my ribs scream, holding her tight against my chest as she sobbed.

I felt the wetness on her shirt. “You’re bleeding.”

Joy pulled back just enough to look down at her shoulder, her face pale. Dark red soaked through the torn fabric of her shirt, spreading down her arm.

“It’s not that bad.” Her voice shook despite the brave words. “Just a graze.”

Like hell it was just a graze. I could see the way she favored that arm, the way her breathing came too quick and shallow. But arguing with her about it could wait until we got out of these woods.

“Simon. Jase. We need an extraction. Joy's hit.”

“Copy that,” Simon responded immediately. “Calling for medical.”

I gathered Joy closer, supporting her weight as we made our way back toward the cabin. Every few steps she stumbled, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving her shaky.

“Graham.” She stopped walking and turned to face me. “I knew you'd come.”

The absolute trust in her voice nearly brought me to my knees. This woman had been through hell, shot and hunted through the woods by a lunatic, and she'd never doubted I'd find her.

“I'll always come for you.” I cupped her face with my free hand, my thumb tracing the dirt smudge on her cheek. “Always.”

She leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. When she opened them again, something had shifted. Something deeper than relief or gratitude.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Just hearing those words again hit me harder than any bullet ever could. Joy Magill loving me would get me through any nightmare.

“I love you, too.” The words came out rough, scraped raw with emotion. “More than I've ever loved anything in my life.”

She smiled. It lit up her face despite the blood and dirt and exhaustion.

In the distance, I could hear the rumble of engines approaching. The other men coming to take us home. But for this moment, standing in the middle of nowhere with Joy bleeding in my arms, I'd never felt more complete.

I pressed my forehead against hers, breathing her in.

“Let's go home, sweetheart.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The first thing I noticed was the beeping. Sharp, electronic sounds that cut through the fog in my brain like knives. My shoulder throbbed with each beat of my heart, and something heavy weighed down my chest.

No. Not again.

I kept my eyes shut. The cabin. I was back in the cabin. Glenda had drugged me again, and now I was waking up to another round of her twisted games. The beeping grew faster, matching the frantic rhythm of my pulse.

What was that beeping?!

I couldn't move my arm. She'd restrained me even more this time. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped bands around my ribs. The smell hit me next. Antiseptic. Clean. Different from the pine scents of the cabin.

“Joy.” The voice was male, deep and familiar, but my brain couldn't process it through the panic. “Baby, I know you’re awake.”

It was a trick. It sounded like Graham. But it couldn’t be. Glenda was trying to trick me.

“Joy, you're safe. You're in the hospital.”

Hospital. What? The beeping was screaming now, alarms joining the chorus. My breathing came in short, sharp gasps that burned my throat.