Page 167 of Fire Fight

Honestly, I was right there with him.

“If Kelly wasn’t already dead…” I muttered.

Ignoring the doctor for the moment, Crew glanced at me. “She didn’t make it out?”

I pursed my lips as if to say,get real. “Youbarely made it out.” Gesturing to his body, I said, “Did you think you were here for fun?”

“What even happened? The last thing I remember was telling my brothers to bail and take Parker with them. Oh my god,” he started, jerking upright before ultimately falling back with a groan of pain, eyes squeezed shut. “Is Parker okay?”

“Parker is fine, you fool,” I assured him. “But you were thrown probably fifty feet through the air.”

He grimaced, using the arm not in a sling to try to shift himself into a more comfortable position. “Explains why my entire body feels like a giant bruise.”

“We can up your morphine dosage—” the doctor began. Honestly, I’d forgotten he was there.

Crew quickly cut him off with a shouted “No!”

The doctor blinked in surprise. “Mr. Lawless, you’ve suffered a lot of trauma. Recovery will be incredibly painful regardless, but at least let us make you more comfortable.”

“I’m a recovering drug addict,” Crew gritted out. “I can’t…I don’t even like taking Tylenol.”

“But you will take it?” Crew nodded. “Okay, I’ll prescribe you the highest dosage we’ve got and advise my support staff that you don’t get anything harder than that. And I appreciate your candor. In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that drip”—he indicated to the line in Crew’s hand—“is definitely not Tylenol.”

Crew moved like he was going to rip the IV out, but I clasped his hand, holding it at his side.

“Can you get a nurse in here to take replace it, please?”

The doctor sighed like he didn’t appreciate being ordered around by a patient’s family, but wisely left the room without a word.

A half hour later, his line was changed out, the drip replaced with the promised Tylenol, and Crew’s entire family had crowded into the room. I reclined in my chair, never more than a foot from him. Hell, I barely even let go of his hand. His mom, brothers, and sister chattered around us, tossing stories and insults around like we were crowded around the family dinner table instead of a hospital bed.

Honestly, though, I didn’t mind.

The sense of normalcy was exactly what we needed after three months of everythingbut.

Crew’s grip tightened around my fingers, and I glanced at him, melting when he smiled at me. His discomfort was obvious on every line of his gorgeous face, but that smile was like the sun shining after an endless winter. Blinding and beautiful.

“I love you, little phoenix,” he murmured, only loud enough for me to hear.

“I love you more, hotshot.”

epilogue

. . .

crew

ONE MONTH LATER

“I’m still not convincedthis is a smart idea,” Aspen said warily as she eyed the massive horse in front of her.

“C’mon, little phoenix. Rascal is an old softie, aren’t you buddy?” I cooed, scratching the patch of white between his eyes. He nickered lightly, nipping at my hand with his lips.

Aspen’s gaze narrowed on me. “This is the same horse you fell off that ultimately led to you becoming a drug addict. Forgive me if I don’t exactly trust him.”

“Well you’re going to have to start.”

“We should’ve gone riding before this,” she muttered. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”