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“You didn’t have to.” Her eyes met mine. “You were there.”

The simplicity of it made my heart swell and I looked down at my hands. One palm was cut and scratched from reaching beneath the seat for my phone. Tiny pieces of glass still glittered near the edge of the wound.

Lucy followed my gaze. “Give me your hand.”

I placed it in hers. She cleaned each cut carefully, using tweezers to remove the smallest pieces of glass. Her fingers remained steady even when mine began to shake. I tried to stop them, but that only made it worse.

Lucy paused. “Maria?”

“I’m cold.” It was an obvious lie. The clubhouse was warm, and Tiny’s jacket still covered my shoulders.

Lucy set the tweezers down. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“I’m not pretending.”

She waited, knowing I was lying.

My breathing turned uneven. “I thought I was going to die.” The words barely made it out. I stared at our joined hands because looking at her would make everything too real. “When the car stopped, they stayed on the road.” My voice shook. “I could see their brake lights.”

Lucy tightened her grip.

“I thought they were going to come back and finish it.”

“Oh, Maria.”

“I couldn’t get the seat belt off.” A broken laugh escaped me. “My hands wouldn’t work. I kept pressing the button, but I couldn’t feel my fingers.” The room blurred. “I’ve treated people after crashes. I know what shock does. I knew I was panicking, and I still couldn’t stop it.”

Lucy moved from the stool and wrapped her arms around me and the moment she did, everything I had been holding back collapsed. I buried my face against her shoulder and cried. Not quiet tears, either, but ugly, shaking sobs that hurt my ribs and made it difficult to breathe. Lucy held me through all of it. Her hand moved slowly over my hair, careful of the cut.

“You’re safe,” she whispered.

“What if the brothers don’t come back?” I’d always worried about Riot, and I always would, but it felt different. My mind kept bringing up images of him all those years ago when he was lying in the hospital bed at the clinic.

Lucy pulled back enough to look at me. “They will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No,” she admitted. “But I have to believe it, or I will go mad.”

The stairs creaked a few minutes later.

I looked up as Kate reappeared, quietly pulling the living room door almost closed behind her before making her way across the bar.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

A tired smile crossed her face. “Yeah.” She held up the baby monitor, setting it gently on the bar between us. “He’s still asleep.”

Relief loosened something inside me. “Really?”

Kate laughed softly. “I swear that child could sleep through a war.”

Lucy smiled as she finished taping the dressing over the cut on my forehead. “He definitely gets that from Caleb.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Kate glanced toward the stairs before lowering herself onto the stool beside me. “I think he’s currently got more guards than the President.”

I frowned. “What?”

She nodded toward the ceiling. “Two prospects outside the room.”