Page 37

RORY

She definitely doesn’t look okay.

But how could she? While the event was a cheerful affair overall, with plenty of laughter and fond memories and even a tabasco sauce drinking competition in honor of Vince, it had to be incredibly hard for Melissa to be there.

Everywhere we turned, there were reminders of Vince.

Photos of him as a kid, playing dress-up in his Army costume.

More of him as an adult, beaming with his team or standing proud in front of a helicopter.

And the ones where he looked most happy, with his arm wrapped around his new bride, his expression so filled with love and hope it brought tears to my eyes just to see it.

It was a celebration of Vince’s life, but it also brought home the tremendous loss. Just thirty-three years old with his whole life in front of him, gone in an instant, leaving his family and friends to pick up the pieces.

Of course she’s not okay.

And judging from the blast of gin that hit me as soon as I opened the door, poor Melissa turned to the false comfort of alcohol to get her through it.

As she stands just inside the doorway, clutching a cardboard box to her chest, I ask again, “Are you sure you don’t want anything? Tea? Water? Soda?”

Definitely not wine.

“Maybe some cheese and crackers?” I offer. “A sandwich? We didn’t bring much to eat since we’re leaving tomorrow, but I’m sure I can come up with something.”

Melissa stares at me, her eyes narrowing as they move across my face.

I can feel the burn of her gaze as it hits the scar on my forehead.

And again when it lingers on the one on my jaw.

Then she looks at my arms, with several more raised lines exposed beneath the oversized sleeves of Gage’s T-shirt.

“I expected Gage to pick someone prettier,” she says abruptly.

Even though I’ve spent years trying to shore up my guard so these kinds of words don’t hurt me, it’s still a piercing shot to my heart.

She’s drunk, I remind myself. Upset. She doesn’t mean what she’s saying.

“But I guess it makes sense now,” Melissa continues. She pushes past me into the small living room, one side of the L-shaped space that makes up the main part of the cabin. “Since Gage lost his foot. He probably can’t do any better.”

Another dagger slices into my chest. Keeping my voice low and controlled, I say, “Gage will be out of the shower in a minute. You said you wanted to show him some photos?”

As she walks, her foot catches on the carpet and she almost falls before catching herself. The box nearly pitches out of her hands, so I rush forward to grab it before it falls.

Although her words sting, my worry for her is greater. Sympathy settles heavy on my shoulders.

What if I were in her place? How would I feel? What if Gage?—

No. I can’t even think it. Not when I’ve only just found him. Not when his first I love you is still fresh in my mind.

“Melissa. Do you want to sit down?” Setting the box of photos on the coffee table, I gesture at the couch.

She turns to face me, an unreadable expression on her face. A flutter of unease moves through me, though I can’t pinpoint why.

Then her eyes dart to the front door, and my heart stutters.

Is there someone out there?

Did she bring them here?

Is she working with Elliott? Mavers? Wade?

What if one of them escaped and spotted her on the way over here?

My pulse quickens as the terrifying scenario comes to life in my head.

Melissa, drunk, not paying attention, accosted on her way down the dimly lit path to our cabin. Grabbed by a man who recently escaped from prison, threatened, and forced into helping him access our cabin.

I can practically hear Mavers’s serpentine voice telling Melissa, “You get in there, distract them. Keep them occupied. Then I’ll come in to finish the job.”

She might have tried to argue. Upset or not, she wouldn’t want to be an accomplice to that. But then Mavers—or Wade? Elliott?—threatened to kill her. Maybe put a gun to her head and cocked the trigger. Can I blame her for agreeing to save her own life?

I would never do it. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t understand.

No. I’m being ridiculous. This is nothing more than what it appears.

“Melissa,” I say gently. “I can’t imagine how hard today must have been?—”

“ No . You can’t .” An angry flush suffuses her cheeks. She takes an unsteady step towards me. “You didn’t lose the only man you ever loved. You have no idea what it’s like to experience that kind of loss. That kind of pain.”

“I do—” But I stop myself. This isn’t about me. Melissa doesn’t know what I’ve been through, and she doesn’t care. Not right now. Soothingly, I say, “I’m so sorry for your loss. And you’re right. I can’t understand.”

“It’s not right .” Melissa’s voice pitches up. “This should be my life. Our life. Vince and I should be here having a romantic night at the cabin. Not you!”

Hot breath hits my face, the burn of alcohol making my eyes water. As she moves even closer, irrational fear edges in.

“I think you should go. Can I call someone for you? The Mattisons? One of your friends?”

“Go?” It’s sharp. Incredulous. “Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?”

My heart skips another beat.

Where is Gage? How long has it been since I let Melissa in? The water’s off, so he must be getting dressed. Surely he’ll be out soon to help defuse this.

“I’m not. But you’re clearly upset and I’m not sure?—”

“I’m upset ?” Her features contort in anger. “I’m not upset. I’m fucking furious ! It’s not right! It’s not !”

She advances on me, her gaze snapping fire. The veins on her neck and forehead stand out. With a frantic glance around the room, she spits, “Where is he? Where’s McKay? He should be here!”

Gage!

Why haven’t I called to him before now? I told him everything was fine. He has no idea Melissa is losing it right here in the living room of our cabin.

“Gage!” I call out. “Can you please come out?—”

But my words dry up in an instant.

My throat goes desert dry as soon as I see the gun.

The gun firmly clasped in Melissa’s hand.

The gun pointed at me.

In a blink, my mind fractures.

Half of me is still standing in our cabin at the Shallows, a rustic resort tucked away in the Adirondacks. I’m wearing Gage’s T-shirt and loose cotton shorts, the skin-baring clothes I only wear around him. And Gage is in the bathroom, not twenty feet away.

The other half is back in the woods. Pinned against the tree with Wade’s hand wrapped around my throat, the cool metal of his gun jabbing into my stomach. Fear coursing through me, my frozen lungs begging for air, praying that Gage would find me before it’s too late.

This can’t be happening.

My brain doesn’t want to accept it.

“What are you doing?” I croak out. “Why?—”

“Gage has to pay! He shouldn’t be here! Vince?—”

“Melissa.”

Gage’s voice is a whip cracking. He stands in the doorway to the bathroom, his features like stone, his body vibrating with barely contained rage. In a low, commanding tone, he adds, “Put the gun down. Now .”

“No!” Melissa’s head jerks towards him. “I won’t!”

The gun trembles in her hand.

Terror threatens to burst out of my body. She’s drunk, holding a gun, all it would take is one slip of the finger… Or she could spin around and shoot Gage instead. He has his gun here, but it’s not on him, of course. Why would he ever think to bring it into the bathroom?

How could we have ever thought this would happen?

Gage takes several slow steps towards us. His gaze flickers to mine.

As soon as our eyes meet, the terror subsides. I’m still scared, how could I not be, but with Gage here, I’m reassured. He’s always promised to keep me safe, and he’s never let me down.

“Melissa,” he repeats. “You need to put the gun down now.”

“No!” she shouts. “I won’t! Not until I make things right! Vince shouldn’t have died in that accident. It should have been you!”

Pain flashes in Gage’s eyes. My heart wrenches. I want to run to him, tell him it’s not true, assure him he’s supposed to be here. But I can’t. Not now.

“This isn’t what Vince would want.” Gage keeps coming towards us, his pace slow but steady. “You know that, Mel.”

“I don’t know that!” Tears well up in her eyes. “Because he’s not here! You are! Why didn’t you save him? You were his teammate! You let him die! How dare you come back here like everything’s fine? With your scarred girlfriend?—”

“MELISSA!”

I actually bleat in surprise at Gage’s angry roar.

Melissa jerks in shock.

Now less than ten feet away, Gage focuses his attention on her. “Fine,” he says in a calmer tone. “You want revenge? You want to punish me? Fine. Punish me . Not her.”

Melissa glances between Gage and me, indecision clear in her eyes. The gun drifts from my stomach, but only an inch or so, not nearly enough to make an escape.

“I couldn’t have saved him,” Gage continues. “I was knocked out as soon as the helo crashed. Dammit. I wish I could have. Every day I wake up wishing I could have saved everyone. But I couldn’t.”

“You could have.” It’s weak. Wobbly. Followed by a loud sniff. “You were his teammate. Vince said you always had each other’s six.”

He grimaces. “Sometimes, it’s not enough.” A pause, and then more firmly, “Put the gun down. Now. Before someone gets hurt.”

I know he’s trying to get close enough to disarm her. But he won’t dare with the gun pointed at me.

“I can’t let it go!” Melissa spins, now aiming the gun at Gage. “Fine. I won’t kill her. But you! It’s the only way!”

She’s crying now, and despite the heart-pounding fear, I can’t help feeling sorry for her.

“Melissa. This won’t bring Vince back.” Now he’s eight feet. Six.

Should I tackle her? But the gun is pointed at Gage. What if it goes off?

Now he’s almost an arm’s length away. And the gun is aimed dangerously close to his heart.

Oh, God.

What if ? —

I can’t lose him.

I can’t.

“This needs to end,” Gage says. “Put down the gun.”

“I can’t!” Melissa’s arm flies up. “I need… I need…”

Then.

In a blur, Gage moves.

He lunges.

His arm snaps out.

One leg makes a quick sweeping motion.

Melissa shrieks, “No! No! I want Vince!”

The gun goes off.

Everything stops.

My heart.

My lungs.

Suffocating terror closes in.

Gage and Melissa are on the floor in a twisted tumble of limbs. She’s sobbing, “It’s not right, it’s not fair, it’s not right.”

Then, on the hardwood planks, a splash of red.

Gage’s blood?

No.

NO.

I can’t move. Can’t speak.

Shudders shake my body, rattling my teeth.

Gage!

I know I should be doing something. Calling the police. Finding something to use as a bandage. Anything . But the fear is too powerful. The horror is too great.

Did he sacrifice himself for me?

God. That’s not what I want. Gage is so much better than me. He deserves a good life. A long life. Not to be shot and?—

“Rory!” Strong arms wrap around me, hauling me against a hard chest. “Ah, baby. It’s okay.” One big hand strokes my hair, shaking a little. “It’s okay. It’s over.”

I can’t make myself move. My muscles don’t want to work.

Sobbing continues in the background, rising in volume.

“It’s okay, baby.” Lips press to my head. “She can’t hurt you. Look.”

Gage touches my chin, turning my head. On the floor is Melissa, restrained by those trusty zip ties. The gun is nowhere in sight. And she looks unscathed, not a drop of blood on her.

Fear shoots through me and I jerk away from Gage to scan his body. “Gage. The blood. Where is it? Are you?—”

Then I see it. The dark crimson spreading on his upper sleeve.

All at once, my body unfreezes.

I clamp my hand over his arm, feeling sick at the sticky heat beneath it. “God, Gage, you’re hurt, oh, God, she shot you, we need to get help, I need to find a bandage, something…”

“Baby.” Gage hugs me to him again. “It’s just a graze. I shouldn’t have even been hit, but with it so close, and I was trying to make sure she didn’t get you. But it’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” I tilt my head back to look at him incredulously. “You were shot!”

“It’s not the first time,” he replies calmly. “Although I hope it’s the last.”

“I’m sorry,” sobs Melissa from the floor. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just miss Vince so much.”

Sympathy twinges, despite everything she did.

“Are you really okay?” I ask Gage. “But your arm.”

“A couple of stitches. At the most.” As he looks at me, guilt fills his eyes. “I’m so damn sorry, Ror. This shouldn’t have happened. This is all my fault.”

I’m so focused on Gage’s arm—which, at closer look, appears to be a graze, just like he said—that his words don’t register right away.

A second later, they do. And I’m immediately shaking my head. “It’s not your fault, Gage.”

Misery twists his features. “She’s here because of me. Not you. You could have been shot. Fuck . She could have killed you.”

Though my body is still in full-blown panic mode, I force it under control. I can freak out later, when this is all over. When we’re back home, with Gage checked out and bandaged up, me taking care of him for a change. But now? He needs to hear this.

“It is not your fault,” I repeat. With the hand not clapped over his bleeding arm, I touch Gage’s cheek.

“You couldn’t have saved Vince. And he knew the risks, just like you and your teammates did.

It’s horrible that he’s gone. But it is not your fault.

Just like you’re not to blame for what Melissa did. ”

“Ror…”

“I mean it.” Holding his gaze, I continue, “She needs help. But that isn’t on you. And there is no way you could have known this would happen. No way .”

“But I brought you here,” Gage starts.

“Yes. And you protected me. Again. Like you always do. You took a freaking bullet for me, which I’m really upset about. Please don’t do that again, okay?”

“Rory.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I would always take a bullet for you. Every time. But you should never have been in this situation to begin with.”

“No.” Ignoring Melissa’s cries and the rise and fall of alarmed voices in the distance, I press a quick kiss to his lips.

“We came on a trip. Saw some friends. Gave our respects to Vince’s parents.

All normal things. No one would have suspected something like this. So don’t blame yourself. I don’t.”

“I just…” Moisture shines in his eyes. “I just want to keep you safe, Ror.”

Oh.

My heart.

“You did.” Putting my free hand on his shoulder, I pull his still-trembling body to mine. “You always do.”

He hugs me back. “I love you so damn much.”

I tuck my head under his chin, nuzzling the vulnerable skin of his neck. A wave of protectiveness sweeps through me, more intense than I’ve ever felt it. “I love you, too.”