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“Thank fuck,” he mutters, bending at the waist and reaching into the trunk. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re fine. You’re fine.”
A whimper hits my ears, and it’s the only thing giving me the power to move.
When Kincaid pulls her from the trunk, she looks like she’s been beaten. She’s covered in scratches, her wrists bleeding from where she fought against her restraints.
I step forward, pulling the gag from her mouth as gently as I can manage.
“Emmett,” she gasps, her face streaked with tears, sobs catching in her throat.
“You’re safe,” I tell her, fighting the voice in my head that’s reminding me she’s in this situation because of me.
If she hadn’t come to New Mexico, if I hadn’t been so fucking weak, this never would’ve happened to her.
If I hadn’t been obligated to the Marine Corps, if I hadn’t been so willing to keep my family’s legacy alive, Vaughn would still be alive. I’m the fucked-up connection in all of this. My selfishness made all of this happen.
“We’re going to the hospital,” I tell her, scooping her up in my arms and carrying her back toward the SUV parked out of sight.
Oracle offers to drive us, knowing the others will stay behind and scour the nearby woods, hoping to find the guy who deserted the car.
I keep her in my lap, a million questions in my head. I need to know how badly she’s hurt, if that man had the balls to do more than what I can see on her skin.
I pull down her dress when it threatens to ride up.
“I saw a man die,” she sobs. “One minute he was standing there smiling and the next he was just gone.”
The other victim who succumbed was a woman, and that tells me that there’s a good chance she was near where Jason Conroy fell. I don’t know if the goal was to take someone all along or if the guy who took her improvised. The man in the hospital didn’t give much info past where the meetup was before he passed out again.
I have no doubt we’ll get more info later, but now that she’s safe, the timeline no longer matters. Guilt swims inside of me as Oracle quickly covers the miles back to the hospital. She’s in my arms and whole. Some people can’t say the same about the ones they love.
“Did he…?” I manage before my throat seals shut.
She shakes her head. “He tied me up and put me in the trunk. That’s all.”
That’s all.
Like she hasn’t suffered possibly irreparable damage because of me.
“I fucking love you,” I blurt. “I’m so fucking sorry I got you involved in this shit.”
She shushes me, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. What kind of asshole does it make me that she’s the one that faced god-awful trauma and she’s the one comforting me?
She rests her head against my shoulder, and all I can do is thank my lucky stars that she’s okay.
But the conversation we’ll have to have tomorrow might just kill us both.
Chapter 37
Devyn
I know I should be grateful for the care and attention I’ve received, but my attitude is flaring as we leave the hospital.
My diagnosis was bumps and bruises. The mention of the soreness on my head where I hit the side of the car was what I considered the worst of it, but I think I never should’ve mentioned it. It was diagnosed as a possible light concussion and they kept me in a private room for two fucking days before I got the discharge paperwork.
I know that had to do more with Emmett than anything else.
I saw on the news that one of the women who was shot was released yesterday. She. Was. Shot. And got an earlier release than I did.
I keep my discontent to myself as we walk outside because there are others who lost a loved one a few days ago. Although my feelings are valid, they’re not as soul crushing as those who have lost someone.
Harper Conroy squeezes my hand just as I step into the sunshine. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
Her words are kind and as far as I can tell, genuine. Tears streak her face as she nods in my direction when I reach for her. It’s as if she’s trying to assure me that she’ll be fine despite losing her brother. Her other brother, Walker, Jason’s twin, pulls her into his chest, his eyes plastered above our heads as if he’s trying to distance himself from all of it in order to be strong for his loved ones.
Emmett tightens his arm around me, guiding me toward the SUV parked under the porte-cochère. I want to pull away from him, remind him of the distance he’s put between us over the last forty-eight hours, but the overabundance of armed men outside the hospital terrifies me. I know they haven’t caught the guy who took me, but I’d convinced myself that he’d be running for the rest of his life.
