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Then Harris was on me again, and we were locked in combat. We tumbled across the floor, fighting dirty. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard the sickening crunch of my ribs breaking, felt the shooting pain in my side when I took a deep breath, but I couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop.
I kept whaling on Harris for all I was worth. He’d had training too, but he was no match for my strength and fury. He did land some good punches, one on my temple that split the skin and sent blood running down my cheek and into my eye, temporarily blinding me on one side, but I kept on going after him, pummeling him anywhere and everywhere I could reach, my only objective keeping him down until the cops arrived. Chief Wharton had assured me they were on their way, but who the fuck knew anymore?
At one point, we hit a wall—literally—and Harris was kicking and screaming and clawing at me, trying to choke me like he’d choked Charlotte. In his frenzy, he got sloppy.
I struck out then, my own muscles shaking as I grabbed a thick glass bottle that had fallen on the floor and bashed it into the side of Harris’s head. The second my hand connected with his skull and I felt bone give way, I knew that was it. His eyes went wide, and then he slumped forward, landing atop me with a heavy thud, out cold.
I shoved him off me and stood, kicking him in the side to make sure he was down for good, then giving him another kick, to vent my remaining fury. When he didn’t react, I crawled to Charlotte’s side, glad to see her eyes open. She was barely conscious, but alive and slowly coming to. Next I moved to Savannah’s playpen and got her out, holding her close and soothing her as best I could in my current condition. “It’s okay,” I murmured. “I’m here now. Daddy’s here.”
Savannah hiccupped, her cries quieting at last as she looked at me, her little fist in her mouth and her lashes sticky with tears.
“I-is s-she…” Charlotte managed to whisper, her voice wrecked from the choking. Reddish-purple bruises in the shape of fingers were already forming on her pale throat, and I had the sudden urge to kick Elijah Harris all over again. She tried to sit up but fell back against the floor, too weak. “S-Savannah…”
I walked on my knees back to her side, then slumped down against the wall, my strength waning as the adrenaline burned out of my bloodstream. I sat on the floor and turned to face Charlotte so she could see the baby. A weak smile formed on her lips, and I couldn’t resist bending down to kiss her softly, even though my ribs screamed in protest, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude and respect for this woman who’d risked her life to save my daughter.
Our daughter.
The wail of sirens outside grew louder, and I glanced over again at Elijah Harris’s body on the floor. Blood was trickling from the side of his head where I’d bashed him good with that bottle. He still wasn’t moving. I sighed with relief. Everything was going to be okay. I felt every single one of my cuts and bruises and broken bones, but it was still the best day of my life. I bent to kiss Charlotte’s forehead again, whispering against her skin the words I’d waited too long to say.
“I love you.”
Charlotte blinked up at me. “I love you too.”
Then the EMTs rushed in, along with the police, and our moment was lost in the chaos.
TWENTY-NINE
“Okay!” I said as the EMT prodded my sore jaw. I wasn’t a baby when it came to pain, but I didn’t like to be fussed over. I tried to brush her aside to get back to Charlotte. “Seriously. I’m fine.”
“Sir,” the EMT said, with patience I had to admire, “it’s bleeding. It’s not deep, but given the area it’s in, you should probably have some stitches to keep it from opening back up again.” I scowled, and she sighed. “Well, at least let me put a bandage on it so you don’t contaminate the crime scene any more.”
“Fine.” Arms crossed, I settled back against the wall and gave her a curt nod. I’d already sat through her taping up my ribs. “Just hurry.”
While she worked, I kept my eyes on the cops arresting Elijah Harris. They were reading him his rights—again—as they handcuffed him. The other EMT was sticking a hasty bandage on the guy’s temple where I’d punched him good. I hoped it hurt like hell. He looked up once and caught my eye, and I barely suppressed a shudder as a chill passed through me. Those cold, dead, emotionless eyes. The look of a true monster. Given what he’d done, I hoped Harris spent the rest of his days rotting in a prison cell.
In another corner, an officer was keeping Savannah occupied while we waited for Charlotte’s mother to arrive and pick her up. The woman was bouncing my daughter in her arms and holding one of her favorite toys, a stuffed duck, making it quack and talk to her. I was glad Savannah was too young to remember any of this later.
Charlotte had been loaded in the ambulance already, and they were going to take her to the hospital to make sure she was okay. I’d grabbed her hand as her gurney had passed, and we’d exchanged a look. I was still trying to process what it might have meant.
Pain zinged up from the cut on my cheek as the EMT dabbed more antiseptic on it, and I winced but didn’t complain. Considering none of this would’ve happened if I’d been here with them and not off in DC getting my shit together, pain was what I deserved.
Honestly, the guilt was eating me up inside. Guilt and grief and this godawful anxiety gnawing at my gut, telling me that even though the danger had passed, there was still a shit-ton of stuff we had to deal with.
Fuck. Why the hell had I walked out after our fight? Because, dammit, the best things in life took work. It was time to reset my default. No more walking away. The SEALs had taught me that. This time I was in it until the bitter end.
The cops finished restraining Harris and led him out into the hallway. He stumbled a bit, looking less than steady on his feet, and looked my way one more time. I bit back a fuck-you smile. He didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve anything more from me or mine at all. Good riddance. The EMTs had told me I’d given him a concussion and an orbital fracture. Damned straight. The asshole was lucky I hadn’t taken his head clean off.
Chief Wharton finished talking with one of his officers, then came over to me as the EMT started packing up her kit. “We’ll need you to come down and give a statement, Gabe. But with everything else going on right now, I think that can wait until tomorrow morning. Get some rest tonight.”
“Thanks, Chief,” I said, giving the man a curt nod, my own head aching. Harris had clocked me good a couple of times. I wasn’t paying much attention to that, though, seeing as Charlotte was waiting for me in the ambulance. I excused myself and walked outside, barely registering as they carted Harris away to jail. Instead, I climbed up into the back of the rig, only cringing slightly at the pull in my cracked ribs. The EMTs were outside the ambulance, talking with the cops, so we had a moment alone together. It was just the two of us back there, and I was grateful and intended to make the most of it. I took a seat beside Charlotte’s gurney and grabbed her hand, kissing it before tucking it under my chin and watching her closely. Now that I’d said the words once, I couldn’t seem to keep them inside.
“I love you,” I blurted again, watching her expression soften as I said it. “Just in case you didn’t believe me the first time. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She reached for me and placed her hand on my cheek, exactly where I had a constellation of cuts. I held back the wince, because I didn’t want anything to interrupt what I needed to hear from her.
“I love you too.”
We sat for a moment, just being together, the world outside disappearing until it was only us. The harsh fluorescent lights in the rig buzzed and flickered a bit, and there was an antiseptic smell to the air. All my attention was on Charlotte, looking far too pale for my comfort against the white sheets.
