Page 46 of Love Loathe Devotion (Tightrope #3)

The room smells like antiseptic and exhaustion. Everything’s too bright—the overhead lights, the white walls, the hard vinyl of the exam table I’m perched on.

Eddie hasn’t let go of my hand once. Not even when the doctor came in. Not when they made me lie back. Not when they pressed gently along my ribs and I flinched.

“Can we please get someone in here who actually gives a damn?” Eddie snaps for the third time. His voice is tight, raw with adrenaline. “She was beaten, for Christ’s sake, and you’re asking her if she wants a juice box?”

“Eddie,” I say softly, squeezing his hand. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” he bites out, pacing two feet then turning back. “You’ve got bruises down your ribs, cuts on your wrists, a gash on your lip—and God knows what we can’t see. You could have internal bleeding, a concussion—”

“I know,” the doctor cuts in, calm but firm. “We’ve done the x-rays and vitals. No fractures. No concussion symptoms. She’s bruised. She’s sore. But she’s strong.”

Eddie doesn’t look relieved.

He looks wrecked.

“I’m prescribing rest, fluids, ice, and pain meds. She’ll need someone with her for a few days. But she’ll be all right,” the doctor continues, offering me a warm smile.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

As he leaves to get the medication, I feel Eddie’s hand trembling in mine.

“I should’ve been there,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I should’ve—”

The doors burst open.

“Move, move, move—a pregnant woman with attitude coming through,” Cherry announces, a whirlwind of pink hair and righteous fury, storming into the room with Lexi right on her heels.

Behind them—Hunter McKenzie and Jake Marshall.

All tall, terrifying male energy and clenched jaws. Silent protectors flanking two women who are anything but silent.

Cherry barrels over to the bed, her gaze sweeping me from head to toe. “Okay. Who do I have to kill?” she says, eyes gleaming.

“I already took care of him,” Eddie mutters darkly.

I glance at him wondering if his words are flippant or hold truth and then decide I don’t care. Randy made his choices and almost every single one of them was bad. Now he’ll face the consequences of those actions. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it.

Lexi comes to my other side, her presence a calming counterweight to Cherry’s firestorm. “Laney,” she says, her voice soft but steady. “You scared the hell out of us.”

“I’m okay,” I say again, and this time… I mean it. “I really am.”

Cherry crosses her arms, eyeing the bandage on my cheek. “You don’t look okay. You look like a woman who got dragged through hell and came out the other side. Which is fine, because you own hell now, babe.”

“Damn right she does,” Jake says from near the door, arms crossed, sharp-eyed, and clearly ready to commit crimes for me.

Hunter steps forward, laying a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “You did good. You got her out.”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He just stares at me like I might disappear if he blinks.

I reach up, press my hand to his chest, right over the frantic beat of his heart. “I’m here,” I whisper. “You got me back. That’s all that matters.”

Lexi and Cherry hover nearby, now flanking me like bodyguards—one serene, the other full of snark and fight.

“Eddie,” Cherry says, voice surprisingly gentle now. “You need to sit. You look like your heart’s gonna punch out of your chest.”

“I’m fine,” he says roughly.

“No, you’re not,” I reply, tugging his hand. “But you will be.”

He finally lowers himself into the chair beside the bed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against my arm. “I thought I lost you.”

“I never stopped believing you’d come,” I whisper.

He doesn’t speak, but I feel it—all of it—in the way he holds my hand like it’s the only thing anchoring him.

The door opens again, and this time it’s Sam. Her hair’s in a messy bun. There are dark circles under her eyes, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in days.

But she’s smiling.

I sit up straighter instantly. “Joey?”

Her smile widens, watery and full of love. “He’s good. Still groggy, but Dr. Scott says his levels look better than they’ve ever seen. He’s already asking for cartoons and marshmallows.”

A sob of relief catches in my throat.

Sam comes straight to me, leans over the bed, and hugs me gently. “You’re okay,” she whispers.

“I’m okay,” I whisper back.

And it’s true. Despite everything. Because I’m not alone. Because every person in this room is here for me.

I look around—Cherry holding Lexi’s hand, Jake standing guard by the door, Hunter on the phone in the corner, probably orchestrating a corporate takedown for fun. Sam still hugging me. Eddie holding on like he’ll never let go again.

And in that moment—despite the pain, the bruises, the fog still settling from the worst night of my life—I feel something I didn’t think I could feel again.

Peace.

Because I’m safe.

I’m loved.

And I’m not broken.

Eventually, the whirlwind thins out.

Cherry finally lets Lexi steer her out with promises of snacks and a seat.

Jake and Hunter follow, both still on high alert but willing to give us space.

Sam lingers a little longer, holding my hand one last time, before promising to update me on Joey later.

Her eyes are red, but there’s hope in her smile.

Then the door clicks softly shut.

And it’s just me and Eddie.

Silence settles over the room—not heavy, not strained.

Just quiet.

I shift a little on the bed, the scratchy hospital blanket tucked around me. My body aches everywhere, a deep, thudding soreness that radiates with every movement. But it’s manageable.

I glance over. Eddie sits in the chair next to me, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.

His broad shoulders are hunched like the weight of the entire day is pressing down on him all at once.

“Hey,” I say softly.

He looks up. His eyes are red. Tired. Devastated. But so full of love.

I reach out, fingers brushing his knee. “Come here.”

He doesn’t hesitate. In a second, he’s beside me on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle me. I lean against him, tucking my head under his chin, and his arms come around me instantly—tight, protective, like he needs the contact just as much as I do.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into my hair.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I should’ve been there sooner. I should’ve—”

“Eddie,” I cut in, lifting my head so he has to see me. “You came. You found me. I never stopped believing you would.”

His jaw clenches. His throat works. “I saw you like that and I lost it. I’ve never been that scared in my life. I kept thinking what if I’d been minutes later? What if—”

“Stop.” I press my palm to his cheek. “Don’t go there. I’m right here. We’re okay now.”

He nods, slowly. But the pain doesn’t leave his eyes.

I stroke my thumb across his cheekbone. “You got me back, Eddie. That’s all that matters.”

He leans in and kisses me. Slow. Careful. Like I might break. But I don’t. I kiss him back, ignoring the pain in my lip and face, because I need to feel him, need to remind us both that I’m still here. That we’re still here.

When we part, I lean my forehead against his and whisper, “I love you.”

His breath shudders. “I love you too,” he says. “So much it makes me feel insane.”

I smile. “You are a little insane.”

He huffs a quiet laugh and pulls me back against his chest. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again. Not for a second.”

“Good,” I murmur, eyes fluttering closed. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

His arms tighten around me.

And in the silence, wrapped in him, I let myself rest.

Safe.

Loved.

Home.