Page 53 of Fool Me (Timberline Peak #1)

CHAPTER

FORTY

HARLOWE

They’re putting Canyon in cuffs as they lift me onto the stretcher.

“Harlowe! You know me. Tell them—tell them this is a mistake. A.J.—Atlas, please, don’t let them do this! You’re my brother.”

There’s nothing I can do even if I wanted to with my neck braced, dried blood pulling at my scalp. The EMTs wheel me toward the ambulance, Atlas right at my side, ignoring his brother.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Canyon’s face is bruised and twisted with rage. It’s hard to reconcile this version with the man I first met when I moved here. He’s panicked and pleading, unhinged as he shouts at no one and everyone.

Everything’s loud and far away at once—the sirens, the orders, Canyon’s voice begging like it still means something.

“Fuck. You’re my big brother, come on. Tell them,” he tries one more time.

Atlas stalks after the officers, his face twisted in rage.

“Get him out of my sight,” he snaps at Sheriff Evans. “Lock him up—wherever he’ll be safe from me.”

It silences everything.

Even Canyon.

Atlas turns back to me then, and his entire expression crumbles. He rushes to my side as they lift me into the ambulance.

“I’m okay,” I try to whisper. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” he says, voice trembling. “But you will be.”

I want to reach for him, but I’m strapped down. He climbs in next to me and takes my hand instead, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “I thought I lost you.”

“You didn’t.”

He leans in, forehead pressed gently to mine. “I didn’t even get to tell you I love you,” he murmurs. “Not the way I wanted to.”

My breath catches painfully.

“I do, though,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at me. “I love you, and you deserve to hear it somewhere better than the back of an ambulance, but I need you to know. I thought I had time to tell you, and then I got your call.”

Tears sting my eyes as the EMT puts the oxygen mask on. I try to convey what I’m feeling with a look—that I love him too.

The hospital is a blur of lights and motion, people talking over one another. I’m poked and prodded, asked about a million questions, all of which I try to answer through my fog, but Atlas is always there. A steady presence through it all.

The curtain guarding my door flies open.

“Aspen?” I croak, sitting up too fast as she barrels into the room, still in her scrubs.

“Oh my god, Harlowe.” She throws her arms around me, careful but fierce. “I heard—God! Are you okay? What happened?”

Before I can answer, the door bursts open again and the whole crew floods in—Tessa with wild eyes, Briar biting back tears, Denver at his wife’s back, fists clenched, Sloane wide-eyed and pale, and even Drake hangs back in the doorway, watching his sister shake as she hugs me.

One by one, they step up. The girls fuss over me while Drake and Denver tell me they’re glad I’m okay.

It’s overwhelming—a tidal wave of care and concern and panic.

Atlas steps between them and me, calm and firm.

“She’s okay,” he says, voice clear. “She’s gonna be okay, but she needs rest. So all of you? Out.”

They grumble, protest, but one look at him, and they shuffle forward to give me hushed goodbyes before leaving.

He closes the door after them and returns to me, brushing a strand of hair off my forehead.

“Just us now,” he says softly.

“Good,” I whisper back, because it is. He’s all I need and all I want.