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A muscle jerks in my jaw. Fuck the photo. I want to kill the bastard. Wrap my hands around Valiante’s throat and squeeze. Because he did this. He’s the reason Ruby’s lying lifeless and dim in a hospital bed.
“That’s my job,” I grit out. “Leave him for me.”
“What’re you gonna do, Charlie?” Davis asks evenly. “Drive to his house and kill the guy?”
“The thought’s crossed my mind,” I growl.
“Leave Ruby?”
I glare at him. Damn dirty bastard playing that card.
Davis steps closer and squeezes my shoulder. “No. You focus on your girl. I got you.”
A memory of me and Davis from long ago creeps in my mind. We were hunting, and Davis was in front of me, leading the way. I tripped in the thick brush. My gun went off, a horrific mistake, but I remember the terrifying moment of seeing my oldest brother in the way of that bullet. He picked me up, brushed sticks and grass from my hands. “This is between us,” he said. “Mom and Dad don’t need to know.” His voice was low, serious for a ten-year-old. “I got you, Charlie.”
“I almost shot you,” I gasped. I fell to my knees, and tears streamed down my face. I was just a kid, but even then, I knew I had almost killed my brother.
It was an accident.
But he forgave me.
He protected me.
And he’s still doing it.
I inhale a breath, accepting it for what it is, grateful my brother has my back. “You have the photo?”
“Yeah,” Davis says. “But if we put this out ...it might mean retaliation. We don’t know.”
“I don’t give a shit,” I snap. “Put it out there, put Valiante’s ass on the line. Let everyone see what dirty shit he’s done. Let them see what he did to Ruby.”
Face softening, Davis stares at Ruby. “This is for her.”
I nod. “Thank you,” I tell my brother. “For not giving up. For helping bring her back to me.”
Davis’s brown eyes lock on mine and hold. “I had to. I know what it would have meant, Charlie.”
My throat constricts as I watch Davis walk to the door. He stops in the doorway, his broad back rigid, a hand moving to rub his shoulder.
“Your scar hurt?” I ask.
“No,” he says, his deep voice steely with resolve. “Just reminding myself who I am.”
I frown. “Davis ...”
“Don’t worry about me. I got Valiante handled.”
I hold my oldest brother’s hard stare. “Destroy his fucking life,” I tell him, and then I get back to my girl.
Shadow to light. Everything’s muddled, like I’m swimming through the swamp to break the surface of the ocean.
But as disoriented as I am, there’s warmth on my legs. Sunlight. A thin blanket tucked over my body.
Exhaustion settles over me. The faraway beeps of machines sound in my ears, and there’s a strange tightness across my chest. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or a very, very hard fist.
Blinking, I roll my head across the pillow. A happy glow unfurls in my chest at the sight of Charlie. My cowboy has the corner chair pulled up to the edge of my bed, his boots propped up on the metal footboard. A too-small blanket is draped over him.
“Charlie.” I whisper, raspy. The words stick in my dry throat, but somehow, he hears me and stirs.
