Page 64

I wave them off when they offer to drive me for the fourth time, plaster on a pained smile, and walk out into the cold December air with tears biting my cheeks. I suck in a breath, but it stings. Breathing hurts. Walking hurts. Thinking hurts.

I glance up, recognizing the police cruiser parked next to the curb.

Noah steps out, shutting his door. In full uniform, he raises his hand to wave. He’s the last person I want to see right now, but he’s the first person in my path. He smiles at me, a genuine and big smile—like he’s happy to see me, like I’m not sucking the soul out of everyone in my life.

I reach him just as the burning in my eyes becomes unbearable.

His face falls, eyes filling with concern. “Dolly?”

I shake my head, my bottom lip wobbling.

“Hey,” he says quietly, reaching forward to place his hands on my shoulders. “Are you alright?”

I shake my head again, reaching up to bury my face in my hands. I’m engulfed in warm arms within a second, pressed against a hard vest, inhaling his cologne, but it’s not a smell I like and his arms aren’t a weight that is comfortable. These aren’t hands that I want to cry in.

I was already on the brink of losing it and he was in the way. He got to me first.

“What’s going on, Dolly?” he grumbles. “Is it that hockey player?”

I tense up. Yes and no. That hockey player is a liar, but I’m sick of this narrative.

Sick of people presuming that they know what’s best for me.

Sick of people judging me for not being the perfect daughter or the most sensitive sister.

Sick of people judging Carter for being a brute, careless man, when he’s gentle when it matters, and cares more than anyone I’ve ever met.

He’s a liar .

I pull away, furiously wiping my face. Noah is staring down at me with worry dancing in his eyes, his hand still on my back, his fingers brushing against my coat.

“Sorry about that,” I mumble. “Bad day.”

“With Forkerro?”

“No,” I snap, tear-filled eyes jumping to his. I hope he sees the warning in my stare, because it’s a threat. I have no doubt he has seen the video. He’s here for a reason. “He’s the only good part about any day. I should get going.”

“Woah, woah,” he says, capturing my elbow when I move to walk away.

I jerk myself out of his grip, already hyper-sensitive and not wanting to be touched, but he moves his hand back just as quickly and pulls me toward him.

“I can’t in good conscience let you drive when you’re this upset, Dolly.

I have some paperwork to fill out in there, but when I’m done, you can tell me what’s going on. ”

“Nothing is going on.” I sniffle, and I’m ashamed to admit that I wipe my nose with my sleeve like a child. “I need to go.”

“Wait,” he says.

“Arden!”

Both of our heads snap up toward the parking lot. Carter Forkerro’s G-Wagon is parked half on the curb, the lights on and door left wide open. He jogs over to us, concern written all over his face, blue eyes flaring with a look I know too well by now.

I glance back at Noah, who is stupid enough to shoot an irritated look at Carter.

“I’d suggest taking your hands off me now,” I murmur quietly.

“I’m not scared of him.”

“Famous last words,” I grumble, wiping my eyes quickly.

I turn toward Carter as he reaches us and move to intercept, but he blows past me with an expert sidestep. His face is hard, cold, and lethal. He buries both fists into Noah’s vest, physically lifts him off the ground, and slams him into the side of his cruiser.

I suck in a little breath of shock.

At this moment, Carter doesn’t care that Noah is a cop. He doesn’t care that there is a gun strapped to his body, either. The only thing he cares about is that he was touching me.

“What the fuck are you doing, pretty boy?” Carter snarls.

Noah gives him a cool look, far too calm for this situation. I blame the uniform, it makes simple men feel invisible.

“What the fuck are you doing, Fokerro?” he snaps back. “You should be keeping your nose clean right now, not assaulting a police officer.”

“Oh, I assure you, I have yet to get to the assault part.”

Noah cocks a brow. “Add threatening a police officer to those charges.”

“Touch her again and I promise you, I’ll be burying a police officer.”

Noah’s eyes flash, jaw tightening. His hand twitches and my heart almost stops. His fingers flexed just enough for me to notice. Toward his gun.

“Walk away, Forkerro. I’ll let this slide for Dolly’s sake.”

“Don’t do me any favours,” Carter growls, getting right in his face. “I smelled it on you when I met you, you know? Your desperation. The way you watched her. She doesn’t need your protection or your bullshit anymore, got it? She has me.”

He’s a liar.

“Carter,” I say weakly.

“One second, Bub,” he says without looking at me. The use of that stupid, silly nickname that we started as a joke, calming me with such little effort. “Why is she crying, Officer Peck?”

“Carter,” I say, my heart thumping against my ribs. “ Please.”

The ER bay doors open. Whitney, Autumn, and Susan rush out, stopping short when they take in the scene.

My eyes widen, and I reach for Carter’s arm, hauling him backward as best as I can.

I think it was the ‘please’ that got him, because he lets Noah go, even though it pains him to.

He steps back with an extra little shove, pointing a finger at him as a final warning.

When he turns to me, he doesn’t pause to consider how I’ve ignored his texts tonight. He doesn’t care right now. He reaches for me, cupping my face in his hands. “What the fuck is going on, Red?”

“Why are you here?” I whisper.

“I called the hospital when you wouldn’t answer me. Susan said you were crying. That you got a phone call and looked out of sorts and she didn’t want you driving. I thought… We thought?—”

That he died. That my father died and I finally got the call.

I shake my head, fresh tears burning behind my eyes. I feel everything. I feel Noah’s stare burning into the back of my head. I feel Whitney and Autumn’s worry, and Susan’s palpable guilt. I’m still furious with him, but I also need him. In this moment, I realize that I need Carter Forkerro.

And he lied to me.

He hauls me up to him, like he can feel that need too, and presses his mouth to my forehead.

“My car is here.”

“Okay,” he says, pulling back to look at me.

“I work tomorrow night.” My breath hitches.

“Red, what do you need from me right now?” he asks, holding me by the shoulders and searching my eyes.

“Can I sleep over?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says instantly. “But what do you need, Red? How do I help you right now, at this exact moment?”

“Can you drive me to work tomorrow? ”

He dips his chin again, his eyes searching mine.

“Can you stop lying to me?”

He swallows, regret flashing over his face. “I didn’t lie. I haven’t lied, but I’ll explain. I’ll tell you everything, alright?”

I nod solemnly. It’s enough for now.

“Then, just get me out of here,” I murmur. “Please.”