Crossing the line

Chapter Thirty-One

Tabitha rolled over, reaching out for Wyatt, but found herself grasping at a cold pillow instead. She frowned in confusion as she fought to wake up more fully. She expected sunlight, so it confused her when it was still dark.

It was Wednesday, wasn’t it?

Wyatt was off Tuesdays and Wednesdays. She looked at the clock, expecting it to be that new-morning hour when the sun was hiding right behind the horizon. Sometimes Wyatt left before light to go workout at the Cellar with Clay.

2:19

Wyatt got up early, but not that early.

She glanced at the bathroom, expecting to see the shine of light under the door, but it was dark too. She got out of bed, wondering if he’d gotten up and got a late-night snack. She pulled one of Wyatt’s T-shirts from his drawer and tugged it on as she walked out of the bedroom.

She padded barefoot downstairs and called out, “Wyatt?”

She stopped on the bottom step, waiting for him to answer, but eerie silence greeted her instead.

“Wyatt!” she shouted, this time louder, the sound of it echoing off the old walls of the house.

She ran to the front door and unlocked it. Then she jerked it open and looked into the night for his sheriff SUV, but her car was lonely in the driveway. It had started snowing sometimes during the night, and she blinked past the first featherlight snow of the season, seeing the flakes dance in the moonlight.

What if something happened to Jules?

The thought entered into her mind, but then just as quickly she remembered his insistence over dinner that he wanted her at the hospital with him. He would have woken her if Jules had gone into labor.

As she stood there in the cold, something else struck her—Wyatt’s voice filtering into her dreams in a way it hadn’t before tonight. She remembered talking to him, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall what was said.

She slammed the door and ran back up the stairs as her heart started thumping hard in fear. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and dialed his number. Her breathing started to fall shallow when it rang and rang, and he didn’t answer.

She called him four times.

She texted him twice.

He always answered when she called. Now suddenly the lifeline had gone dead as if she’d never gotten a second chance at it to begin with.

Her first instinct was to drive out into the night and search for him, but she had no idea where to find him. Then just as the panic was threatening to choke her, she thought of someone who knew Wyatt better than Wyatt knew himself.

The dull buzz of plastic vibrating against wood had Clay rolling over blindly. He smacked at his nightstand until he found his phone. He lifted it up, squinting at the screen, but nothing but the time glared back at him.

2:31

He frowned at the early hour and then looked past Melody, seeing that it was her phone still buzzing.

“Mel.” He shook her. “Your phone.”

“Huh?” Melody moaned and pulled the covers tighter over her.

“Your dang phone. It’s ringing. Get it. What if it’s Jules? Oh, hell.” Clay leaned over her and used his long reach to swipe at her phone. He answered it, expecting it to be Jules announcing she was in labor. “What happened?”

“C-Clay?”

He sat up in bed, knowing who it was despite not having a real conversation with her in over thirteen years. “Tab?”

“I’m sorry. Melody gave me her number and—”

“No, no, it’s okay.” He took a deep breath and looked at his own phone, staring at the early hour once more as his adrenaline spiked in apprehension. “What’s wrong?”

“Um.” Tabitha’s voice shook in a way that terrified him. “Wyatt’s gone. I was hoping you could help me find him.”

“He’s gone?” Clay repeated as he looked at Melody, who sat up next to him, making it obvious the phone call had jerked her out of sleep. “Where’d he go?”

“I dunno.” Tabitha sounded frantic. “I think he might have gone off to do something dumb.”

“Did you tell him?” Clay asked, knowing he was betraying Melody by doing so, but something told Clay the situation was a little too serious to pretend he wasn’t fully aware of what was going on. “Does he know it was Vaughn?”

“Oh God.” Tabitha sucked in a sharp breath of horror. “She told you.”

“Give me the phone, Clay!” Melody shouted next to him.

“No, I can do this.” Clay leaped out of bed to avoid Melody’s swipe for her phone. He held it closer to his ear and whispered, “Listen to me, Tab. I ain’t blaming you for leaving. I ain’t mad at you. I should’ve never been mad at you. I am sorry.” His voice cracked with emotion he couldn’t hide. He didn’t want to hide it. “Melody’s right. I am an asshole. I should’ve known—”

“No, I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know. I wanted you to be here for Wyatt.”

“You’re important too,” he said softly. “You don’t have to fight alone anymore. I’m in your corner.”

“You are?”

The sheer disbelief in her voice tore at Clay, but he pushed the pain back to deal with the problem at hand. “What happened tonight?”

“I think I was talking in my sleep.” Tabitha took another shuddering breath. “God, Clay, I think he knows. I sorta remember him asking me questions.”

“I’ll find him.” Clay didn’t put it past Wyatt to use the advantage of Tabitha talking in her sleep to get answers to questions that had been plaguing him for years. “I promise.”

“You’ll stop him?”

“I have to find him first. I’m handing the phone over to Melody. She’s gonna drive out to you,” Clay said as he walked over to his drawer and pulled out a pair of jeans.

“No, she’s been so nice. I don’t wanna put her out and—”

“Listen to me,” he growled in a low voice. “This shit ends now, Tabitha. You have been sacrificing yourself for too long because your cunt of a mother fucked you up. We don’t have time to teach you how to accept help, so you’re just gonna have to trust me when I say we’re in your corner if you want us there or not. Watching you do this to yourself hurts us too. Do you want to hurt us?”

“No!” she said quickly. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“Then you go downstairs and wait for Melody to get there.”

Clay handed the phone to Melody, who took it with a glare. She put her hand over the receiver and whispered, “That wasn’t very tactful.”

“That’s okay.” Clay tugged on his jeans. “Tabitha was my first friend, remember? She knows I ain’t tactful.”

He grabbed the shirt he’d discarded earlier and tugged it on as he walked out the bedroom, determined to save Wyatt from himself.

It wasn’t the first time Wyatt used this spot. On slow nights, he’d pull off to the side of the road across the street from Jake’s Bar. The trees hid his SUV that everyone in town who had even a remote inkling toward breaking the law could usually spot from a mile way.

Catching drunk drivers had been one of Wyatt’s personal goals in life ever since he’d been forced to walk up to Delores Johnson’s house at four in the morning and tell her he’d found her son’s mangled body inside the truck he’d gotten for graduation the day before.

He heard her screams in his mind every time he slapped a pair of cuffs onto some drunk fool who decided to risk a drive home, and the town had gotten the message loud and clear. He hadn’t arrested someone for drunk driving in three months.

No one was safe from the campaign. Hell, he’d even arrested Terry for it last year.

He’d been the first one Wyatt let off before booking him, but now he was second-guessing that decision. He should have driven over to his house and punched the smaller man for letting Tabitha leave knowing what happened to her.

Wyatt knew she’d told him.

Tabitha told Terry everything.

He’d turned off his police radio and phone and just sat there in the darkness—waiting—with his gaze on Vaughn Davis’s car. The anger hadn’t subsided. It’d grown into something raging and untamable instead. The longer he sat there, the more he thought about his and Tabitha’s lives and what this asshole had stolen from them. He thought of his girl alone in New York. He thought of her fear and terror over suffering through what she had after Wyatt had abandoned her that night.

The self-loathing was the worst, hazing his vision and making his chest tight.

He’d probably end up having a heart attack one of these days from the burden of it. He wouldn’t be the first sheriff to drop from one. It had turned into a family tradition. He ate better than his father and grandfather had. He took the fucking blood pressure pills the doctor forced on him. He exercised and did all the things a man was supposed to do to stay healthy. He shouldn’t need them, but he did because no amount of exercise and protein bars could eliminate the stress of knowing his wife had been out there somewhere—alone—while he was stuck in Garnet with a breakup letter.

She hadn’t wanted to be found. That had been very obvious, and the hurt of knowing she’d rather be alone stopped him in his tracks every single time.

He’d been taking those damn pills since he was twenty-nine, keeping them hidden in his bottom drawer because Jules would have come unhinged if she knew he was suffering from the same issues their father had. He kept aspirin everywhere—in his glove compartment, in all the drawers of his house—because he’d been in the sheriff’s office the day his father dropped. He’d done chest compressions on him until the ambulance arrived, but it hadn’t done a damn bit of good.

He watched his father die. Then he had to call his sister and tell her he wasn’t able to save him. Until right now, he thought Jules’s screams that day had been the worst thing he’d ever hear in his life. Then Tabitha confessed in her sleep that her brother had sold her to Vaughn Davis.

And it was Wyatt who had driven away that night, abandoning her four days after they had gotten married.

It all felt like too much to bear. He had big shoulders, but it was starting to be more than even he could take. If he was going to die from a heart attack like his father had, he was gonna make sure he took Vaughn Davis with him before he went.

He was sitting there, with that light-headed, adrenaline-pumped feeling throbbing at his temples that told him Doc Philips would’ve upped his prescription if he’d taken a reading when a knock at his window made him jump.

For a moment he thought his heart had stopped beating, because he couldn’t remember the last time someone sneaked up on him like that. Then he found himself looking into the night at Clay’s scowling face.

Unbelievable.

Wyatt pushed the button to roll down his window, because he knew Clay would stand there forever. The asshole didn’t even have a jacket on. “What?” he snapped, knowing Clay could hear every ounce of rage in that one question.

“Unlock the door,” Clay said in a low, furious voice.

Wyatt pushed the button to his window instead, arching an eyebrow at Clay when it started going up. Clay reached in before Wyatt could block him out. His large hand wrapped around Wyatt’s throat, squeezing tight enough to block his air supply.

“Open the fucking door!”

Wyatt pushed at the button again, trapping Clay’s arm; then he reached up, squeezing at the pressure point between Clay’s thumb and forefinger. It was one of those hard pressure points that would make most anyone’s grip loosen, but Clay wasn’t just anyone.

“I will choke you to death before I let you do this to Tabitha!” Clay growled, sounding serious. “I swear to God, Wyatt. Open the door!”

Wyatt could have broken out of his grasp, but he unlocked the door instead. Clay was just the sort of stubborn asshole to stand there in the cold beating on the window until he broke the police glass.

Clay let him go and slipped his hand out of the car. Then he stomped around to the other side of the car and got in. He reached down to move the passenger seat back, making it clear he planned to stay awhile.

“How’d you find me?” Wyatt asked curiously.

“Everyone knows you hide here, asshole. Jake’s been bitching ’bout it for months. You’re bad for business.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows at that. He needed a new hiding place.

“Why are you here?”

Clay turned his head, giving Wyatt a sharp look. “You know why I’m here. Tab called.”

“Clay—”

“No.” Clay cut him off. “You’re gonna sit there and listen to me.”

Wyatt snorted. “The fuck I am.”

“I ain’t giving you a choice ’bout it,” Clay went on as his eyes narrowed. “Look, I ain’t gonna say I don’t understand this. I nearly killed Melody’s ex-husband, and I’d do it again if the prick wasn’t serving forty years.”

“Do you know what Davis did to her?” Wyatt asked with a growl.

“I know.” Clay nodded as he swallowed hard and pain showed on his face. “But Wyatt—”

“Can you stop and imagine what that had to have been like for her?” Wyatt went on as his voice cracked with agony. “I’d just left her in the middle of the road. I’d just told her that she was no better than her mother. That she was gonna turn out just like her. Then she goes home, and that motherfucker”—Wyatt leaned into Clay and screamed—“raped her!”

Clay shoved him back against the seat. “It was thirteen years ago!”

“That makes it worse!” Wyatt pushed Clay’s arm off his chest and then leaned over and punched him in the shoulder because he needed something to hit. “She’s been alone all that time! I was alone!”

“And if you do this, then you will make everything she’s gone through pointless!” Clay shouted back. “You owe this to her. Make the sacrifice worth it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make it worth something,” Wyatt assured him with a mirthless laugh.

Clay fell back against the seat and ran both his hands through his hair as he stared ahead. “We got to figure something else out. You can’t just show up and kill that fucker. There has to be another way to make this right without ruining both y’all’s lives.”

“Our lives have been ruined for a long time now.”

“Yeah, but you have a second chance now,” Clay reminded him. “You honestly want to fuck that up? Doing this is worse than leaving Tabitha in the road that night. What do you think will happen to her if you end up doing something that gets you arrested?”

“Who the fuck is gonna arrest me?” Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “This is my town.”

“A sheriff can still be arrested while he’s in office, can’t he?”

“I guess,” Wyatt had to reluctantly admit. “The coroner can do it if he has to, but it would be a really bizarre situation. I ain’t even sure how they’d go about getting the paperwork pushed through unless it was a federal crime. You’re talking ’bout my sheriff’s office and my deputies. Who’s gonna help him get it done?”

“That’s it?” Clay raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Aren’t we in the twenty-first century? There’s nothing else in place to keep you from breaking a law?”

“Not really.” Wyatt snorted. “The fine voters of Garnet Country just gotta trust me. I’d have to go out of my way to get arrested. Like actually walking into that sheriff’s office and slapping the cuffs on my own damn wrists.”

“Yeah, but that’s the thing, Wyatt,” Clay said slowly. “That’s exactly what you’d do, because you’re stupid like that, and it would kill Tabitha. I can’t let you do that to her, even if it lets Vaughn get away with what he did. I owe it to her to make sure she’s got a husband to grow old with. She deserves that.”

“I ain’t gonna let Vaughn get away with it.” Wyatt shook his head in denial. “No fucking way, and let me tell ya something else. Her brother ain’t far behind. He’s my next stop.”

“At least be smart ’bout it this time, rather than going off half-cocked and kicking their heads in. Then they’ll really win.”

“I was actually gonna shoot ’em.” Wyatt corrected him. “I’m starting to think it’s mighty unfair my sister got to put bullets in some folks before I did.”

“Romeo said they were shotgun shells.”

“No shit?” Wyatt couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice as he turned to Clay. “Jules took those mafia guys out with a shotgun? I never got to read her statement, and we ain’t never really talked ’bout it.”

“That’s what he said.” Clay shrugged. “He said it still gives him nightmares. It was grisly.”

“Damn, don’t piss my sister off.” Wyatt laughed in spite of everything. “I should’ve brought a shotgun.”

“Are you serious, Wyatt?” Clay asked in concern.

Wyatt turned to him again. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Y’all are not okay.” Clay shook his head in disbelief. “Y’all have never been okay.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Wyatt sighed as he looked back to the parking lot. A few cars had pulled out of the parking lot, but Vaughn’s was still there despite last call being at three. “Maybe I can get him on something else. I saw him trying to buy scrubbing pads in the hardware store.”

“So?”

“They use ’em to smoke crack.”

“Never underestimate the creativity of addicts.” Clay snorted bitterly. “Some of the shit my mama used to do. Jesus.”

Wyatt fell back against the seat and took a long breath, searching for sanity. “How’d you know to come find me? What’d Tab say?”

“She called Melody when she discovered you were gone. I think she’s been having anxiety attacks behind your back. Terry must’ve suggested Mel, and they’ve been talking.”

“If seeing Vaughn gives Tabitha anxiety attacks, I can’t let him keep walking round Garnet.” Wyatt shook his head in denial. “It ain’t even ’bout revenge. How do I know he’s not gonna try and hurt her again? I let her down once; I can’t do it again.”

“You just told me Vaughn is smoking crack.” Clay let out a laugh. “Ain’t he on probation? Catch him for something else.”

“It ain’t that easy, Clay,” Wyatt barked at him. “I can’t just walk into his house and catch him. I need a fucking warrant. If I screw it up, they’ll let him off.”

“Look, buddy, you’re sheriff,” Clay said with another laugh. “If you can’t catch one drugged-out asshole who’s been breaking laws since he was old enough to walk, then maybe you need to find a new job.”

Wyatt stiffened at the insult, because he knew he was a good sheriff, but Vaughn was a surprisingly cunning criminal. Vaughn had been dodging him since Wyatt was first elected after his father’s death and had taken on the job mad at life. He was about to tell him off when he saw Vaughn come out of the bar.

Both he and Clay leaned forward, squinting past the fine sheen of snow on the windshield. Wyatt wanted him to be stumbling, but his stride was confident and steady as he walked up to his car and pulled his keys out of his pocket.

Wyatt had arrested more drunk drivers than any officer in the history of Garnet County. He knew a potential DUI when he saw one—Vaughn wasn’t it.

He waited until Vaughn turned onto the road and then flipped the keys in his ignition and pulled out after him.

“Wyatt—”

“Shut up, Clay.” Wyatt turned his lights on, and Clay grunted in disbelief beside him.

Wyatt was hoping he’d make a run for it. He wanted Vaughn to give him a reason to chase. He was banking on it, because pulling someone over without probable cause was a serious violation of their civil rights. A cop could go to jail for it, but as he told Clay, Vaughn was nothing if not cunning.

He turned down a small dead-end road, and Wyatt pulled up behind him when he stopped. Clay gave him a harsh, knowing look.

“You told me to find another way,” Wyatt said before his best friend could argue. “A DUI when he’s on probation will land him in a whole world of shit.”

“He didn’t look drunk to me.”

“But you don’t know that he isn’t,” Wyatt countered. “He did just walk out of a bar.”

“You can’t just pull someone over for walking out of a bar,” Clay argued with the authority of a man who spent most of his life living in a house full of cops and lawyers. “That’s all kinds of illegal.”

“It’s better than killing him, ain’t it?”

Clay hesitated before he held out his hand. “Gimme your gun.”

“You want me to do a traffic stop without my gun?” Wyatt laughed in disbelief. “No fucking way.”

“It’s the only way I’m letting you get out of the car. Otherwise Vaughn is gonna see me and you have it out in this vehicle.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes at him. “Boy, what makes you think I can’t take you? I’m feeling pretty damn vindictive tonight.”

“Maybe you can…maybe you can’t.” Clay’s shrugged. “I’m feeling vindictive too. You aren’t the only one who cares for Tabitha. So try and get out with that gun, and let’s see who wins.”

“Fine.” Wyatt huffed and leaned over to his glove compartment. He pushed it, forcing it to fall open, showing Clay his 9 mm semiautomatic. “There you go.”

Clay eyed it, obviously recognizing Wyatt’s police-issue weapon. “Since when do you keep it in the glove compartment? I thought you locked it up after work.”

“I ain’t in uniform.” Wyatt gestured to himself. “Where else am I gonna put it? I can’t just toss a police-issue weapon on the seat.”

“Fine.” Clay gestured to Vaughn’s car in front of them. “Go scare him.”

“You ain’t gonna stop me?” Wyatt asked in surprise.

“From scaring him?” Clay let out a barking laugh. “Fuck, no. Scare the shit out of him. You act like I don’t hate him as much as you do.”

“That works.” Wyatt grabbed a pair of handcuffs he kept in the glove compartment as backup. Then he reached down to the floorboard and picked up his jacket before opening his door. “If I smell it on him, I’m gonna arrest him. You’ll be riding with us back to the station.”

Clay folded his arms over his chest and glared at Vaughn’s car. “Sounds good to me, but just know if you do something stupid, I will stop you. I got six championship belts that say the concussion you’ll get this time is gonna be a lot worse than it was when we were fourteen.”

“Whatever,” Wyatt said dismissively as he got out of the car. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had several dozen concussions courtesy of Clay Powers since then.

He pulled on his jacket, walking slowly to the car as he took a deep breath and fought to keep his composure. When he got to the car, Vaughn rolled down the window. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion. The anxiousness throbbing off of him was palpable.

“License and registration.”

“You don’t know who I am?” Vaughn asked in false bravado, though Wyatt could hear the nerves in his voice. “Why do you need my license?”

“License and registration,” Wyatt repeated as he arched an eyebrow at him.

“Fine.” Vaughn reached over to the glove compartment and made unhurried work of finding his registration. Then he grabbed his wallet from the seat next to him and pulled out his license. He handed them over to Wyatt. “Can you tell me why I’m being stopped?”

Wyatt took them and made the actual attempt to look at the information before he said, “Have you been drinking tonight, Mr. Davis?”

“I had two beers. That’s it.”

Wyatt stepped back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”

“This is bullshit!” Vaughn snapped. “I was driving the speed limit. I wasn’t swerving. You’re not even in uniform. You’re stopping me for something else.”

“What? Are you scared she talks in her sleep?” Wyatt narrowed his eyes at Vaughn, holding his gaze for one long moment before he said, “She does, by the way. In case you were wondering. Now step out of the vehicle.”

Vaughn just looked up at him, his face pale and splotched with fear. His breathing fell noticeably shallow, but he didn’t talk. He just opened the door slowly, making it obvious the last thing in the world he wanted to do was get out.

If Wyatt’s goal was to scare him, it obviously worked.

He didn’t see the gun until Vaughn jerked it out from where he had it hiding underneath his thigh. The flash of silver glowed in the night. It was a wild, desperate action done by a man who’d probably been packing heat since the moment he saw Wyatt with Tabitha in the hardware store.

Wyatt moved before he made a conscious decision to do it, and two gunshots rang out. Wyatt’s stomach jolted with a sharp sear of pain that ripped around to his back, but he didn’t bother looking down as the ring of shots fired still buzzed in his ears.

Instead he kept the .45 he had hidden in the back of his jeans pointed at Vaughn, who was sprawled out on the pavement, obviously in shock over what just happened.

“Let me see your hands!” he growled in his most intimidating sheriff’s voice. “Now, Davis!”

“You fucking shot me!” Vaughn clutched at his chest, where a large stain of blood was spreading out over his yellow T-shirt.

“And I will shoot you again, motherfucker,” Wyatt promised as he eyed Vaughn’s gun on the ground. “Gimme a reason!”

Despite the gunshot wound, Vaughn Davis threw his hands up.

“What the fuck?” Clay shouted as he came running over.

“He pulled a gun on me.” Wyatt gestured to Vaughn’s gun. “Didn’t you hear the second shot?”

Clay turned to him wildly. “Did he get you?”

“I need you to put in a call to dispatch right now.” Wyatt tilted his head toward his car. “Get an ambulance and backup out here.”

“I don’t even know how to work the damn thing.”

“Use your cell phone, asshole. Dial 9-1-1!”

Clay stood there staring at him, and then he glanced down to Vaughn still bleeding on the ground. “You sure you want me to make this call?”

Wyatt made a stuttering sound of shock, because he knew what Clay was suggesting. They were alone on this road. Wyatt hadn’t called in the stop. They could end it if they wanted. He remembered hearing once that a true friend would help you hide a body. He just never expected to actually test that theory with Clay.

“Make the call,” Wyatt said before he could change his mind. “Now.”

Clay pulled out his phone while Wyatt stood there shaking. His stomach was hurting so bad he was worried he was going to double over and puke on his shoes, but he didn’t give in to the urge to glance down and look for damage. He just kept his eyes on Vaughn, whose breathing was hard and raspy. Vaughn’s hands shook, but he didn’t move.

Wyatt’s gaze finally lowered to the wound he’d caused, and he knew instinctively it was too close to Vaughn’s shoulder to be lethal. It wasn’t a great shot, but he had done it on pure instinct, and it was center mass. Good enough.

Clay stopped speaking on the cell phone and barked, “Are you shot, Wyatt? They need to know this shit!”

“I don’t know!” Wyatt shouted back. Vaughn lifted his head curiously, and Wyatt stepped closer. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m surely alive enough to shoot you again, Davis. Don’t even think ’bout trying me, ’cause I ain’t missing the next time.”

“You didn’t miss this time.” Vaughn grunted in pain.

“Yeah, I did.” Wyatt shook his head. The bad shot really was disappointing. “Hey!” he shouted when Vaughn tried to reach for his chest again. “Keep your hands where I can see them!”

Adam got there ahead of the ambulance, his police sirens announcing his arrival long before he pulled up. The blue and red lit up the night. The screech of police tires against asphalt was noticeable before Adam came bursting out of his cruiser with his gun drawn. The pain in Wyatt’s stomach made him nervous enough to wait for backup, but Adam was his best deputy. He stepped back, letting Adam secure the gun and then handcuff Vaughn, who bitched about the rough treatment badly enough that Wyatt knew he wasn’t going to die.

Then Adam backed up a few steps. He had his gun drawn as they stood there waiting for the ambulance. “You okay, Sheriff? They said you might be shot.”

Wyatt lowered his gun with the realization he still had it trained on Vaughn and met Adam’s hazel gaze that stood out starkly against his dark skin. He could see the million questions swirling in them, but Wyatt knew he would never ask.

He couldn’t ask.

Any officer had a right to legal counsel before he talked about a shooting. Wyatt was still in raw shock, but he couldn’t deny the pain that was still ripping through his waist and going into the small of his back. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you think you ought to figure that out?” Adam raised his eyebrows and then made a point to look Wyatt over. “You look fine to me.”

Wyatt pulled up his shirt, looking at his stomach in confusion when he found nothing but healthy skin. “He missed.”

“Looks like it.” Adam nodded. “That shit scared me near to death. Why’d you think you got shot?”

Wyatt shook his head, wondering if he’d finally lost touch of reality. He looked to Clay, who was leaning back against Wyatt’s car. He was scowling in concern, his large arms folded over his chest, but he let Adam do his job without getting in the way.

Wyatt was still pondering it when the radio at Adam’s hip crackled.

“EMS requesting medevac 10-18 at 415 Lark Street, 4A. Thirty-four-year-old, thirty-eight-week-pregnant female in labor distress.”

“That’s my sister’s address.” Wyatt turned to Adam in horror and then touched his stomach when the realization hit him. “It’s Jules!”

“Shit.” Adam looked at Vaughn on the ground and to the gun still in Wyatt’s hand. Then he gestured with his gun to the car. “Well, go! I got this.”

Wyatt went to leave but then turned back and handed his gun over to Adam. “You need it for evidence.”

“Oh hell, Sheriff.” Adam looked at the gun in his hand like it was toxic.

“Take it,” Wyatt said firmly despite the heartbeat thundering in his ears. “Then call the DOJ. This is your crime scene, Adam. Do the job you’re paid to do.”

Adam took the gun.

Wyatt didn’t even look back as he ran for the car. Clay was already behind the wheel, and Wyatt decided to let him drive as he jerked open the passenger side door. “EMS just requested a medevac 10-18 for Jules!”

“What does that mean?” Clay asked frantically as he started the car. “I heard you say the call was for Jules, but—”

“It means the paramedics just called in a helicopter. It’s a fucking emergency!” Wyatt shouted as he reached over and turned on the lights and sirens. “Drive!”

“Are we going to Jules’s house?”

“No, we’re going to Mercy.” Wyatt pulled open his glove compartment and grabbed his phone, seeing that he had missed twenty-four calls. “Oh, shit, Clay! I had my phone off. What if they tried to call me first—”

“Just call Romeo!”

Wyatt dialed his brother-in-law, but there was no answer. “He’s not answering!”

“Try it again.”

“No, I’m calling Tino.” Wyatt searched through his contacts for Tino’s number, deciding right then he knew way too many fucking people. “I’m gonna fucking puke.”

Clay looked at him, his eyes wide. “The sick vibe’s that bad?”

“I thought I got shot. What’d you think?” Wyatt snapped when he found Tino in his contacts. He held the phone to his ear, listening to it ring three times before it clicked on. He didn’t even wait for him to speak before he shouted, “What the hell is going on?”

“Where the fuck are you?” Tino shouted back. “We’ve been calling you!”

“Just tell me what’s happening.”

“There’s a helicopter landing at the end of our street; that’s what’s happening!” Tino’s voice was shaking, making it obvious he was crying. He cursed in Italian before he started in again. “She just started bleeding all over the place for no reason! They said she’s hemorrhaging. They said we could lose the babies. They’re not gonna let Romeo go with her, and—”

“Tino!” Wyatt cut him off. “Listen to me. Take a breath!”

Tino stopped ranting and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I am gonna call dispatch and clear the way for you to Mercy,” Wyatt went on as he listened to Tino’s labored breathing on the other side. “As soon as they load her into the ’copter, you put Romeo in that Ferrari, and you drive it like that car was meant to be driven. No one’s gonna stop you. Floor it. You got me, boy?”

“I got you.” Tino choked. “But I gotta hang up. I’m on the other line with Nova and—”

“You do not make any phone calls once you get behind that wheel,” Wyatt snapped at him. “If phone calls got to be made, you let Romeo make them, and don’t listen to the shit Romeo is saying. Your only goal in life at this moment is to get your brother to the hospital. Eyes on the road. Drive safe. Drive fast, and we will meet you there. I know you can do this.”

“Yeah, okay, I can do this.” Tino took another deep breath. “I’ll have Romeo call you when we get into the car.”

“Do that.”

Wyatt clicked his phone off. He made the call to dispatch and then dropped the mic in his lap. He doubled over, taking a moment to fight past the nausea and nerves that were making his head throb. He really needed to get a higher dose of his fucking blood pressure medication. His life had been one major drama after another for a full year now.

“What’s gonna happen with Vaughn?” Clay asked as he drove, his foot leaden to the point that they might actually beat Tino and Romeo in the Ferrari. “You said no one can arrest you, right?”

“But Adam’s got to call the DOJ for this. Usually I would investigate an officer-involved shooting, but there’s no one above me. So it has to go to the DOJ. That’s outside Garnet’s jurisdiction. It’s federal.”

“DOJ?”

“Department of Justice.”

“And they can arrest you?”

“Yeah,” Wyatt whispered as he fought past both his medical problems and Jules’s that were the gift from their parents. “They can arrest me.”

“Will they?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed at his head as he thought about it. “I didn’t call in the stop. I wasn’t on duty or in uniform. I have a personal vendetta against Vaughn, and what happens if the past comes out? I nearly killed him once before.”

“Yeah, but no one knows about it.”

“There was a witness the first time, and my father conducted the investigation,” Wyatt reminded him. “If the DOJ got involved and Vaughn gave them all the details, they could question Jason Wiltkins. They could question Brett too. He’d have a pretty fucking good case.”

“I’m a witness,” Clay reminded him. “I saw him pull a gun on you.”

“Yeah, but that could be considered self-defense on his part. He has a right to defend himself too.”

“What are you trying to say, Wyatt?”

“I’m saying I’m in some serious shit.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Wyatt’s sister knew a lot of people.

At seven in the morning, Tabitha could not honestly believe how chock-full Jules’s emergency had filled that waiting room. Clay, Melody, Tino, Wyatt, and Tabitha all sat there for the few hours, before a young fighter named Chuito had come in dragging a pretty girl with strawberry-blonde hair named Alaine, who was apparently Jules’s assistant.

Tabitha recognized Chuito from UFC fight footage, but she’d just known him as The Slayer. She suspected Chuito and Alaine might be dating. He had his arm draped over Alaine’s shoulders and was rubbing her arm soothingly.

They’d seen Romeo a few times. The babies were in NICU, but the doctors had assured him they’d be fine. It was just a precaution. He was staying with them while Jules was in surgery. Her uterus had ruptured. Romeo told them it was a miracle any of them lived.

He was still covered in Jules’s blood when he’d walked out, and he had the shell-shocked look of a man who was dealing with so many overlapping problems he didn’t know which one to cry about first. He had to sign papers that allowed them to perform a hysterectomy on Jules if it was medically necessary, and with a sob of emotion he had come to Wyatt and said, “She’ll fucking hate me if they do this to her.”

Wyatt had just shaken his head and said, “Nah, she ain’t gonna hate you. Whatever those docs need you to do to save her life, you do it, and I’ll help ya deal with the fallout.”

Things were very tense to say the least.

“Do you want me to get you a cup of coffee?” Tabitha asked as she rubbed Wyatt’s back. He looked almost as bad as Romeo. In some ways he looked worse. His blond hair stood up in spikes from constantly running his hands through it. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles of stress and exhaustion under them, and it was horrible to see. “I can get it for you. You’re the only who ain’t had some.”

“Are you kidding?” Wyatt rubbed at his eyes. “If I drink a cup of coffee right now, I will fucking drop dead of a heart attack.”

“What?” Tabitha frowned at him.

“I got high blood pressure.” Wyatt shook his head as if admitting it was difficult. “I shouldn’t drink coffee at all, but with this level of stress. Jesus, no, I can stay awake.”

“You have high blood pressure?” Tabitha repeated in disbelief as she looked at Wyatt’s strong, powerful body. “You have to be the healthiest fella alive.”

“Yeah, you’d think so.” Wyatt let out a bitter laugh. “Jules and I had the shit luck to inherit both of the things that killed our parents.”

“Wyatt—” Tabitha whispered, because that scared her to death. “Are you taking care of it?”

“Yes.” He turned to her and patted her thigh. “I take medication. I exercise. It’s fine, Tabby. I’m just really stressed out.”

“You should have told me. I’m gonna start cooking different things for you.”

“Thanks, darlin’.” Wyatt sat up and draped an arm over her shoulders. Then he fell back against the seat, pulling her tighter to him and placing a kiss against the top of her head. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest as she sat there listening to his heartbeat. She placed a hand on the spot where it was thumping hard and fast, trying to will some sort of peace for him.

Neither of them had talked about what happened when he disappeared into the night a few hours earlier. Everything had been so tense and frantic, it didn’t seem that important at the moment. They could deal with it after they found out how Jules’s surgery went.

They stayed curled together until the sound of boots against linoleum had Wyatt turning toward the intruder on their private crisis as if he expected an attack, but the tension fell out of his shoulders just as quickly as it appeared.

“Who the hell did he have to kill to get a flight from New York that fast?” Wyatt said in disbelief.

Before she could ask, Tino shouted, “Nova!”

“Romeo’s other brother,” Wyatt filled in for her.

“Oh.” Tabitha watched Tino hug his brother as if desperate for the comfort.

Nova kissed Tino’s forehead in a way that was common for New York Italians. Then he patted Tino’s cheek and draped an arm around him, pulling him close. “Where’s Rome?”

“He’s with the babies,” Tino whispered.

“How are they? What have you heard?”

“Romeo said they were doing good the last time he came out.”

“You told me they were in NICU when I got off the plane,” Nova said sharply. “Where are the doctors? Has anyone talked to them? Are they specialists? Who is hacking into Jules? Who is taking care of our nephews?”

“I don’t know,” Tino whispered.

“Merda, Tino, you didn’t ask?” Nova ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in dark spikes. “You know Romeo’s outta his mind.”

“What the fuck am I gonna ask them?” Tino threw up his hands. “What do I know about this shit?”

“I know. Not your fault.” Nova patted his cheek again. “You did good. Missed you.”

“Yeah, we’ve missed you too.” Tino hugged his brother, clinging to him once more. “I hope Jules and the babies are okay. You don’t even know how horrible that shit was. I’m gonna have nightmares for life. I thought she was gonna die right there in Rome’s arms.”

“We’re here now. We’ll get it taken care of.”

Nova let go of Tino and pulled off his long trench-coat-style jacket, showing off a thickly muscled chest. He wore a simple black T-shirt and jeans, but they were all obviously designer. He ran a hand through his hair again and looked around the room, as if searching for someone who had better answers. His gaze stopped on her and Wyatt.

He tilted his head, shock showing on his handsome face for one long moment, and Tabitha got the impression not much surprised this young man. She was naturally a people watcher, and Nova Moretti had such a powerful air about him she couldn’t help but be fascinated by him. It was like he demanded everyone in the room look at him if they wanted to or not, and it was doubly strange because he couldn’t be more than twenty-five.

He walked over to them, and Wyatt lifted his head from where he had bowed it, obviously not nearly as interested in the reunion as Tabitha was.

“Moretti.” Wyatt grunted.

“Hey, Conner.” Nova’s gaze darted back to Tabitha even though he was still speaking to Wyatt. “Bad night.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt nodded. “We really got to stop meeting like this.”

Nova let out a little laugh as he reached out and grasped Wyatt’s shoulder affectionately. “It’ll be okay, paisan.”

“They’re specialists,” Wyatt said, as if sensing Nova’s next question. “I wouldn’t let someone hack into my sister unless I was confident they knew what they were doing. Romeo wouldn’t either. She’s in good hands.”

“I still wanna talk to them.” Nova’s gaze darted back to her. “Tabitha.”

She smiled. “Yes.”

Nova held out his hand, and when Tabitha took it, he introduced himself. “Nova.”

“Hi, Nova. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry the circumstances are so difficult.”

“You don’t remember me,” he whispered.

Tabitha raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Am I supposed to?”

Nova seemed to think about it for a few seconds before he said, “No, you’re not. It’s better.” He wrapped his other hand around hers, holding it trapped between his warm palms as his smile broadened. “It’s nice to meet you too, Tabitha. I bet you like heroes.”

“I do.” Tabitha nodded. “I love them.”

“Yeah, I like them too.” His gaze darted to Wyatt, and he shook his head. “Unbelievable, Conner. I cannot believe you landed T.C. Rennoc. I knew those books were about you. I just didn’t know who actually wrote them. It’s a small fucking world.”

“Now’s the point where you let go of my wife’s hand.” Wyatt eyed Tabitha’s hand still trapped between Nova’s. Then he turned to her and said loud enough for Nova to hear, “He’s strange. He says weird stuff all the time.”

“I’m not even going to hold that against you.” Nova was still smiling. “I know you’re having a shit night.”

“Moretti.” Wyatt lifted his head and let out a broken laugh. “You don’t know the half of it. Let go of her.”

Nova threw his hands up in surrender and then turned to look toward the doors where Jules was having surgery. “Now where are these doctors?”

Jules made it through the surgery.

They didn’t take her uterus.

The twins were both okay.

Wyatt had a lot to be thankful for, but the DOJ investigators showing up at the hospital when everyone was still there wasn’t one of them. They’d waited until Wyatt had gotten a chance to see his nephews in the NICU. The babies had Romeo’s dark hair and Jules’s lungs. Wyatt could hear them through the glass, and it was a good thing.

Bawling babies were healthy babies according to the doctors.

Wyatt wished he could see his sister too, but she was still in recovery. The only one who’d gotten to see her so far was Romeo, who looked like he was going to drop where he stood from the relief.

“Sheriff Conner.” One of the investigators stepped forward as Wyatt walked out of the maternity ward and inclined his head to him. “Do you have a moment?”

“Sure.” Wyatt lifted his arm off Tabitha’s shoulders and leaned down to kiss her. “Give me a minute. Cop stuff.”

“Okay.” Tabitha nodded. “I’ll just go get another cup of coffee.”

Wyatt had taken two steps with the DOJ investigators before Nova called out from behind him, “Hey, Conner.”

He held up a hand to Jules’s brother-in-law. “It’s fine.”

“Yeah, no, it’s not.” Nova said with a laugh. “You’ve been up all night fearing for your sister and your nephews’ lives. You’re too tired and distracted to properly explain what happened. It would put the investigation in jeopardy, and I’m sure none of you want that.”

“Have you been up all night?” the investigator asked in concern.

“I have, yeah.” Wyatt nodded. “My sister’s in ICU. Her sons are in the NICU. She was medevaced in from Garnet earlier. This wasn’t a normal delivery. She had a uterine rupture.”

“We’re going to give you our card, Sheriff.” He pulled a card out of his wallet. “We understand this is a family emergency. You can call us tomorrow.”

Wyatt took the card and looked at it. “I’ll do that. First thing.”

The other investigator smiled. “I hope your sister and nephews get better.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Wyatt looked at the card again as the investigators walked off. Then he glanced at Tabitha, who frowned in response.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“Um.” He flipped the card over in his fingers and then stuffed it into his back pocket as he considered lying to her. Then he decided the two of them had enough lies between them to last a lifetime. “I shot Vaughn Davis during a traffic stop earlier this morning.”

Wyatt could actually see the color drain from Tabitha’s face. She didn’t say anything, just stood there staring at him in muted horror.

It was Melody who voiced the question out loud. “You did what?”

Wyatt held up his hands and turned back to their crowd of spectators. It really was bad timing on the DOJ’s part. He hadn’t realized how large their family had grown in such a short amount of time until he had to announce to all of them, “He pulled a gun on me. Shots were fired. He missed. I didn’t. It wasn’t fatal. He’ll live. They were probably here to see him and happened to hear I was also in the hospital. Any shooting involving a cop requires an investigation. This is all standard procedure.”

“But Clay was with you earlier this morning,” Melody whispered, still the voice of the masses.

“Yep.” Wyatt nodded. “That was one of the unfortunate things ’bout it.”

“Aren’t you off on Tuesdays and Wednesdays?” Chuito asked.

Wyatt nodded again. “Also extremely unfortunate.”

“What did I say last night?” Tabitha finally asked in a quivering voice.

Wyatt bowed his head and took a shuddering breath. “This ain’t your fault, Tab. Not even a little. I pulled him over while I was off duty. It’s my fault.”

“Oh, Conner,” Nova said from behind them. “You and me, we gotta talk.”

“You got enough of your own problems, Moretti.” Wyatt shook his head as he turned around. “Now, if y’all will excuse us. I’m gonna take a few minutes to talk to my wife. Let me know when we can go in to see Jules. We’re going outside for some air.”

Tabitha wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel.

There were so many overlapping horrors to deal with it was impossible to sort them all out.

Fear, horror, embarrassment, and what she didn’t want to acknowledge, but did anyway, was that small flame of anger at Wyatt. That he would risk not only the life he’d made for himself, but the kindling of hope they’d had to make a life together.

He was an elected official in the County of Garnet. He was respected and admired. Everyone in this town loved him. He should be mature enough to know better. He wasn’t a twenty-one-year-old hotheaded kid anymore. She had a right to her anger. She knew it, but the circumstances with Jules kept her from lashing out at him as the two of them sat at one of the small tables outside the hospital. Tabitha was drinking coffee. Wyatt had a bottle of water, and for several long minutes, they just stayed there in silence, both of them finally taking a moment to fully absorb the secrets that had just been torn open and laid at their feet in front of all Wyatt’s friends and family.

“You’re mad at me,” Wyatt finally whispered. “I can tell, but I swear, Tab. I wasn’t intending to shoot him.”

Tabitha arched an eyebrow. “You left in the middle of the night to make a traffic stop?”

Wyatt considered her for a second before he looked down at the table. He picked at the peeling paint at the end. “Okay.” He huffed. “I’ll admit that was my knee-jerk response.”

“Oh my God.” She shook her head as she looked at him. “Wyatt, this isn’t the Old West. You can’t just go out and shoot someone for touching your girl.”

“Touching my girl,” Wyatt repeated in disbelief. “Unless I got it figured wrong, he drugged you badly enough to cause an overdose, and then—”

“Don’t say it.” Tabitha cut him off.

Wyatt leaned his elbows against the table and put his face in his hands as the sadness and tension radiated off him violently enough it almost made Tabitha sick secondhand. “I can’t stop thinking ’bout it,” he whispered miserably. “I can’t stop thinking ’bout what that had to have been like for you. I can’t stop wishing for a chance to go back and take that fight back. There’s just so much. So much. I can’t even begin to sort it out.”

“I know.” She choked back the urge to completely break down. “We’re broken, Wyatt. You think it’s not terrible for me too, knowing that you found out what happened. I wanted to stay beautiful to you. I should’ve never come back. I should’ve let my mother die in that rotting house. Nothing was worth ruining what we were.”

“You got it all wrong, darlin’.” He dropped his hands and looked at her, with tears shining in his light eyes. “You’re always beautiful. Always. There’s no way Vaughn could take that away. It’s impossible. You have always been perfect to me.”

Tabitha covered her face and let out a sob, because she heard the truth in his words.

For reasons she would never understand, Wyatt’s love for her was completely loyal and unending. It didn’t tarnish. It didn’t fade. It never curved to the winds of change, and her feelings for him were the same. She should be furious at him, but when it came down to it, the anger simply evaporated under the golden gleam that always radiated off her hero, and she just adored him instead. Life handed them true love; she just couldn’t decide if it was a gift or a curse.

Wyatt stood and pulled his chair up next to her. Then he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to fall into his arms. She buried her face against his chest and sobbed for who they once were. For what they’d lost. For what they couldn’t change. She cried for them as children, young and completely ignorant of the pain one act of kindness had caused.

Life would’ve been easier if he’d never taught her to believe in heroes by handing her those cookies that day, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as magnificent either. Even in the face of yet another tragedy, Tabitha realized she wouldn’t take it back. For thirteen years she had assumed Wyatt finding out would mean some of the beauty would wilt and die, but she was wrong. It just grew stronger, making her mourn what they’d lost all the more.

Wyatt rested his cheek against the top of her head, and he cried too. In those raspy, broken sobs, she heard the same mourning. The same loss. The same appreciation for something perfect and beautiful. All the hurt in the world couldn’t destroy the love, but it could destroy them for having it.

“I’m in trouble,” Wyatt choked out when the tears finally started to subside. “I didn’t mean to do it. Clay talked me down. I was just gonna try to get him on a DUI. I didn’t want you to have to see him again, but he pulled a gun, and I shot him before I even realized I did it.”

Tabitha pulled back and studied him. “Then why would you be in trouble?”

“It’s complicated, but I just am.” Wyatt wiped at his cheeks impatiently. “There’s a lot of reasons why this is gonna be bad.”

“They seemed nice,” Tabitha argued, because there was a side of her not completely broken by life that refused to believe this was where it was supposed to end. “Those officers didn’t look like they had any bad intentions.”

“You know I was the one who beat up your brother and Vaughn in high school.” Wyatt shook his head, looking lost and bewildered in a way she’d never seen before. “All he has to do is tell them that, and it’ll launch a full-scale investigation that’s gonna unearth a whole shitload of evidence that proves he had every right to fear for his life. I have been a major thorn in his side for years. Now he’s got a chance to get me brought up on charges. I’m sorry, Tab, but I’m fucked. I guarantee you, I am not getting out of this.”

Tabitha put a hand to her eyes, fighting a fresh bout of tears when she thought about how terrible it would be for Wyatt to face something like that. His reputation would be ruined. Everything he prided himself on would crumple at his feet. She didn’t want to believe there was a world out there that would do that to him, but she had learned a long time ago that the world was unkind more often than not.

“It would’ve been better to take the bullet,” Wyatt whispered dejectedly.

There had never been a time in her life where she would agree with that—until now.

Wyatt might have been able to endure a bullet wound, but this would likely destroy him.

“We’ll get a lawyer.” Tabitha reached out and rubbed his thigh. “I can afford a really good one.”

Wyatt shrugged. “What’s a good lawyer gonna do for me? Plea bargain for a lesser charge? I’ll never be able to be sheriff again. I’m still facing jail time, even with the best lawyer money can afford. This is my business. I know a solid case when I see one.”

She didn’t have a solution for him. Like he said, this was his business. If Wyatt said he was fucked, Tabitha knew he probably was. She didn’t have a single solution to offer, so she just leaned into him once more and wrapped her arms around him. Wyatt hugged her back, and together they just sat together in the cool November morning and tried to come to terms with the fact that their lives were about to be ripped apart more violently than they had the first time they’d thought love made them invincible.

“I want you to leave,” Wyatt said in a gruff voice, as if the words were tearing out his soul. “When everything starts going down, I want you to go back to Key West. Be happy. Love life. Be amazing at everything you do.” He repeated the words she’d written to him in that letter so long ago as if he’d read it a million times. “’Cause I know you can. The whole world knows it, and I’m so happy everyone gets to see you as I’ve always seen you.”

“No.” She placed a hand over his heart, knowing it beat for her, and everything in her wanted to stay right where she was right now. “I’m not leaving this time.”

“That’s your gift to me.” Wyatt kissed the top of her head once more. “I’m sorry, Tabby, but I need to know you’ll do this for me. I can survive everyone else seeing me fall, but I never want you to see it. It’ll kill me. I know it. Please tell me you understand.”

Tabitha wanted to lie to him. They’d been so good at it for the past four months, but in the end she couldn’t do it. “I do understand.” She tightened her arms around him, clinging to what she knew was slipping through her fingers. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

“I want you to write a hundred more books.” Wyatt ran his hand over her back softly, and even through the tears she could still hear the smile in his voice. “Promise you’ll keep me a perfect memory.”

“It’s not hopeless yet,” she said defiantly, refusing to promise, because she knew what it meant. “Let’s just wait and see what happens.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“I got you a change of clothes.” Wyatt handed Romeo a pair of jeans and a T-shirt he had gotten out of his gym bag that he kept in his SUV. “I should’ve thought ’bout it earlier. I was distracted. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Wyatt.” Romeo took the clothes, looking genuinely grateful for them. “I should’ve changed before I left for the hospital, but—”

“Hey, no one’s blaming ya for it,” Wyatt said and then made a point to look at Romeo, who still had Jules’s blood staining his jeans and T-shirt. “But you got to change. Go take a moment. Get yourself a cup of coffee. Hell, have two. You look like you need it. I can sit with her.”

“She’s still”—Romeo raised his eyebrows—”really relaxed after the surgery.”

“I’m sure I can handle it. I’ve been dealing with my sister a lot longer than you have,” Wyatt reminded him. “Take your time. Go see the twins again. We got your back.”

“Okay, yeah.” Romeo nodded. “I will. I’m going to take some more pictures. Even stoned outta her friggin’ mind, she’s driving the doctors and nurses crazy wanting to see them.”

“Then go.” Wyatt gestured to the doors that led out of the ICU.

Romeo surprised him by stepping forward and hugging Wyatt in that same tight, strong-armed way he hugged his own brothers. It was obvious the chaos of the night was wearing on him. His emotions were right on the surface, and Wyatt understood completely. He patted his brother-in-law’s back affectionately as he reeled over the bizarreness of his life that had allied him with Romeo Wellings of all people.

“She’s been asking ’bout you too,” Romeo said as he pulled away. “She’s been asking for you a lot actually. She keeps saying something’s wrong with you.” He shook his head. “They got her high as a kite. It’s making her paranoid as hell.”

“Yeah,” Wyatt agreed distantly. “That must be it.”

“Tell her I’m taking more pictures. I won’t be too long.”

Romeo was halfway down the hallway before something occurred to Wyatt, and he called out, “Hey.”

He turned around, arching an eyebrow curiously. “Yeah?”

“Congratulations.”

Romeo pulled back, making it obvious that was the first he’d heard it. Then he gave Wyatt a wide, pleased smile that lit up his entire face and showed the first signs of excitement for the future rather than the stress and strain he had been dealing with for the past nine months. “Thanks, man.”

“Sure.” Wyatt gestured to the doors once more. “Go look after those boys, Dad. You might as well enjoy it now. Twins are something else.”

“Nah, they’ll be good,” Romeo said confidently. “They got half Juliet in them. They gotta be good.”

Wyatt laughed. “Whoa boy, who lied to you? Wait and see; it’s gonna be interesting.”

“I can handle a little interesting.” Romeo laughed with him before he turned once more to leave. “See you soon.”

Wyatt walked to Jules’s room. He had already checked in at the nurse’s station and had a sticker on his chest that said he had a right to be there. He could hear his sister’s voice before he stepped past the door, because it echoed off the stark walls, vibrant and demanding as always.

“Just put me in a wheelchair. Five minutes.”

“Darlin’, you just got out of surgery, and you lost a lot of blood. You need to get a little stronger first.”

“I’m strong.” Jules sounded unbendingly confident about it despite the slur in her voice. “My daddy made me strong.”

“That ain’t a lie, you know.” Wyatt stepped in the room and saw his sister, who was so pale her lips were almost blue. She had IV’s in both arms, and wires coming out of her gown that tracked the steady beat of her heart, but he didn’t doubt her words as he confirmed to the nurse, “Her daddy did make her strong.”

“Wy Wy.” A frown marred Jules’s forehead when she turned to him. Her blue eyes were darker than they usually were, her pupils wide and dilated from whatever drugs they were giving her, but still she saw what Romeo didn’t and asked, “What happened to you?”

“Well.” Wyatt grabbed the chair Romeo had obviously been sitting it and pulled it closer to Jules’s bed. “Let’s see. My sister made me an uncle this morning. That happened. Wanna see some pictures of my nephews?”

Jules made a move to sit up a little.

“Honey, you can’t move too much yet.”

“I got her,” Wyatt said as he took his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t move round too much.”

That seemed to appease the nurse, who walked out of the room as Wyatt searched for the pictures he took of Jules’s sons. He held up his phone to his sister, showing her the first one.

“Oh.” Jules took the phone from him, staring at the screen with a look of motherly adoration. Tears filled her eyes as she whispered, “I wanna hold him so badly. Which one is he?”

Wyatt looked at the screen, trying to see what bed he was lying in. “That’s Freddy.”

“Sweet like Daddy.” Jules let out a little giggle. “He looks like a Fred, dontcha think?”

Actually, he didn’t look anything like a Fred. He looked more like a Nova or a Tino, with his olive coloring and dark hair, but Wyatt didn’t argue. If they’d had a daughter, they would have named her after Romeo’s mother, but they didn’t.

Romeo didn’t seem to mind letting Jules honor her family instead, and Wyatt knew it meant the world to Jules. So they’d be Italians with two of the biggest redneck names on earth. One day they might complain about it, and Jules could send them to talk to their Uncle Wyatt, who most certainly won the prize in that category.

He hoped they did better with their legacy than Wyatt had done with his.

“He sure does.” He took his phone back and swiped his finger across the screen, looking for another clear picture. “I think Dad would be mighty proud ’bout right now. Grandpa too. You know he’d be strutting round this hospital telling everyone Charlie was named after him.”

Jules nodded, tears filling her eyes once more. “He would.”

“Charlie.” Wyatt showed her a picture of her son screaming his head off. “Screeching like his mama.”

“Hush.” Jules took the phone again. “He’s beautiful. They’re both beautiful, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Wyatt agreed softly. “You did good. I’m proud of you.”

“I wish it didn’t happen like this.” Jules’s bottom lip jutted out as she took over swiping through picture after picture Wyatt had taken. “I hate seeing ’em alone like that.”

“Sweetheart,” Wyatt started as he pulled his phone back and found a picture of Tino posing in front of the glass, a wide smile on his handsome face with his nephews being held up on either side of him by the nurses in the NICU. “They aren’t alone.”

He handed the phone back to her.

Jules laughed hard enough that she winced in pain as she stared at the picture of her brother-in-law hamming it up for the camera. “I may never get to hold those boys with Tino in the house. He’s so excited.”

Wyatt decided not to tell her how out of his mind Tino had been a few hours earlier. That picture had been the first smile Wyatt saw from him. Seeing the babies healthy and strong had lightened the mood for all of them, especially knowing Jules was going to be okay.

Jules was obviously tired, but she lay there for a long time looking through the pictures Wyatt had taken. He’d taken a lot. When she did drop her arm, her eyes closed and Wyatt thought she had fallen asleep. Instead she turned her head on her pillow and studied him. She left the phone on her chest and reached out, touching the crease between Wyatt’s eyes thoughtfully.

“What happened?” she asked as if the first conversation had never happened and they were looping back to where they started. “Did she leave?”

Wyatt shook his head. “No.”

“Is she going to?”

“Probably.” His voice cracked on the word, and he turned away, fighting the surge of loss that hit him square in the chest hard enough to steal his breath. “Love was kinder to you, Ju Ju.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she argued as she reached up and touched the crease between his eyes once more. “I just fought harder.”

Wyatt could always count on Jules to state the obvious, and he winced at the bitter truth of it.

Jules eyes closed. Her arm dropped. The beeping on the heart monitor told Wyatt she was closer to sleep than wakefulness, but still she whispered, “Daddy made you strong too.”

“Did he?” Wyatt asked, because he wasn’t so sure.

“Yes.” Jules didn’t seem to doubt it. “If you got something to fight for, you fight, Wy Wy. Promise.”

Wyatt leaned down and kissed Jules’s forehead instead.

She fell asleep before he had to promise.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they got home.

Tabitha was exhausted. Wyatt even more so. If it was just the physical strain, they might have been able to ride into the sunset on the adrenaline, but as it was, they pulled off their clothes and fell into bed in their underwear.

Tabitha did managed to tug off her bra and toss it over the bed, which wasn’t like her, but she was too broken to bother picking up any of the clothes now littered over the bedroom.

Wyatt rolled up next to her, and she curled into him, with her head resting on his arm and his heavy body draped over hers. She closed her eyes, savoring his scent. The feel of his warm skin. The rhythm of his breathing. The strong energy that still vibrated off him, even at the very moment when it should have dimmed under the weight of injustice resting on his broad shoulders. She just let it all wrap around her and lull her into a false sense of security.

They didn’t say anything to each other.

They just let sleep claim them instead.

Tabitha’s nightmares were different. In them, Vaughn had a gun pointed at Wyatt, his finger on the trigger, and Tabitha screamed, desperate to warn him. To do something to help him. She would have jumped in front of him and taken the bullet instead, but she was rooted to the spot, forced to watch helplessly when Vaughn fired.

She screamed when she saw it tear into Wyatt’s chest. The rest of him was strong. His heart was vulnerable.

“Wyatt! No!” she shouted, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t go to him. He was dying alone. “Please! No!”

“Tabby, you’re dreaming, darlin’.”

Tabitha jerked at the low rumble of Wyatt’s voice against her ear. His arms had tightened around her, and it helped to wake her up more fully. She was covered in a cold sweat, and she turned in his arms to look into his eyes that were wide and bright in the darkness.

She reached up and touched his chest, feeling for herself that his heart was still beating. Wyatt stroked her sweaty hair away from her temples as she took a quivering breath and whispered, “This is worse. It’s so much worse.” The thump against her open palm told her Wyatt was still healthy, but it still felt like Vaughn had raped her soul rather than just her body as she fought her way back from the nightmare. “He’s taken everything this time.”

“Not everything.” Wyatt kissed her, soft and chaste, and then breathed against her lips, “We have now.”

Vaughn could take everything else. He nearly had, but right now she was in Wyatt’s arms, and Vaughn couldn’t have that. The love was untouchable. It always had been, and she gave in to it as she reached up and threaded her fingers into Wyatt’s hair. She returned the kiss, parting her lips in an invitation Wyatt took. His tongue slipped into her mouth as he rolled her over, his body heavy over hers as if he suddenly didn’t have the strength to hold himself up, but it was okay. Tabitha held him as she let him take out all the heartache in a crushing, feral kiss that stole her breath far more effectively than his hard chest pressing her to the bed.

She used her hold on his hair to tilt his head and returned the kiss with the same desperate hunger for something to remember. The passion flared easily, making every brush of his skin against hers a dance of ecstasy. When he slipped a hand between their straining bodies, pushing it beneath her panties, he found her already wet and needy for him.

He groaned into her mouth and then pulled away to press his lips against the soft spot behind her ear. “Lemme hear you.”

She gasped, arching her hips into his hand in surrender, and whispered, “Okay.”

Tabitha could feel Wyatt watching her as he touched her, rubbing his fingers against her clit in a way that left her sweaty and moaning from the quick build of need. She didn’t even try to fight it. She just clutched at his large biceps and rode out the storm until the end crashed over her in a wild rush of bliss.

The electric surge of her climax left her pussy aching for more and her fingers tingling from the bone-melting rush of it. She was still shaking with it when she blinked up at Wyatt. His chest was heaving as he studied her face and then tilted his head to eye her body beneath his.

His fingers were still on her, and rather than slip them out from beneath her underwear, he pushed one into her and then a second, stroking her and making her head jerk back against the pillow. She knew he was intent on bringing her to a second orgasm while he watched, but she needed to be with him.

She tugged at the elastic to his boxer briefs, forcing them past his muscular ass until he was finally forced to help get rid of them. While he kicked them off, Tabitha fought to get herself naked too.

Their underwear ended up on the floor with the rest of their clothes, but she didn’t care. She just wrapped her legs around Wyatt and clutched at his shoulders when he shifted over her. Then his cock was stretching her, slow and steady, bringing them closer and closer until they were inseparable and untouchable for that one perfect moment.

Tabitha swallowed his moan when he kissed her again. He thrust the rest of the way in, claiming what had always been his. It wasn’t sweet. It was hard, strong, powerful, and it was perfect just how it was. She had always loved every side of Wyatt, the dark as well as the light, because Tabitha understood it was an all-or-nothing deal. The meek lived their lives devoid of these turbulent emotions that created rocky peaks and valleys. They carved out an amazing man, because Wyatt had never been meek. He was so much bigger than that, and Tabitha wouldn’t change him.

Even if it would’ve made things so much easier.

She just savored the climb to the top and tried to forget about the plunge to the bottom waiting on the other side. Now was theirs, and she wasn’t going to ruin it by thinking about tomorrow.

He broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck and started fucking her as if he needed to extinguish the flame of passion between them that never flickered, no matter how tumultuous the storm. It had always been a warm, steady glow in the night that beckoned them toward home. Like their love, it was a something that never died, but it wasn’t the first losing battle Wyatt fought.

He tried to take the last of the passion.

He failed.

He only fueled the fire.

Tabitha stiffened under him at the first surge of ecstasy, digging her nails into his shoulders as she surrendered to their destiny instead of fight it. She reveled in the sea of desire rather than try to drain it. She just wanted to enjoy it for as long as she could.

She pulled Wyatt down with her, and he grunted against her ear when he lost the war. She was so wrapped up in him, she could feel the ripple of bliss in the muscles of his back when they tensed under her fingers as he moved in her to the pulse of his release.

They were both breathing heavy and sweaty once it was over. Individually shattered, but still together. For now it was okay to lie there and just accept the loss.

Tomorrow was a new story.

Tabitha knew from hard-won experience the hardest part wasn’t enduring the storm, or accepting the end. It was finding a way to put the broken pieces together in the aftermath.