Page 32 of Shelter for Shay (Broken Heroes Mended Souls #2)

SHAY – MONDAY NIGHT | THE REFUGE, NEW MEXICO

A tight zip-tie was carved into her wrists. Her mouth was taped shut. The cold muzzle of the gun pressed against her temple.

“Say goodbye,” Blake whispered.

She turned her head. Moose was on his knees, blood blooming across his chest, his eyes locked on hers.

“You came,” she tried to say.

But the words wouldn’t come. The tape held them back.

Blake pulled the trigger.

Moose fell.

Dead weight. Lifeless eyes.

And Shay screamed.

She jerked upright with a choked sob, limbs tangled in the quilt, her chest heaving like she’d been underwater. The room was too dark. Too hot. Too silent. Her body trembled, heart jackhammering against her ribs, fingers clawing at the sheets like they were restraints.

Moose bolted upright beside her. “Shay?”

She didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

Her hands pressed to her chest. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think .

“Shay, look at me. You’re safe. You’re with me and we’re both okay.”

She gasped, the sound ragged. “He shot you. I saw it. I felt it?—”

“No. No, sweetheart. That was a dream. I’m okay. I’m right here.”

She blinked. “It was so real, Moose. I heard the gun. I felt the blood. I saw your eyes. You weren’t breathing.”

She folded into him with a whimper, pressing her face into his chest as he wrapped his good arm around her and held her tight. His heartbeat thundered against her cheek. Solid. Steady.

Real.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “You’re safe. It’s over.”

But it didn’t feel over.

Her body still trembled with phantom terror, the nightmare etched into her skin like a bruise that wouldn’t fade. “What if it doesn’t stop?” she rasped. “The dreams. The fear. What if I’m never the same again?”

Moose held her tighter. “I told you that I’d never lie, so the hard truth is that you won’t.”

She stiffened.

“But that’s not a bad thing,” he said gently. “You survived something that should’ve broken you. And yeah, it’s going to leave marks. But you get to decide what they mean. You get to decide who you are on the other side.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him. His hair was a mess, his face drawn with sleep and worry, the bandage on his arm stark in the moonlight.

“I don’t know how to do that,” she whispered.

“I didn’t either,” he said. “Not after the shit I went through. Not until I found people who saw more than the damage.”

Shay swallowed hard. “Like Henley?”

“Yeah. And Brick. Tonka. Pipe. Everyone here at The Refuge. They didn’t try to fix me. They just reminded me I was worth sticking around for.” He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You are, too.”

Her lip trembled. “You really believe that?”

“I don’t believe it. I know it.”

A shaky breath escaped her. She leaned into his touch. “I love you,” she said quietly.

His eyes softened. “I love you too.”

“But what happens when my time is up here?” She blinked. “I don’t think I can just go back to Lake George. Not now. Not with everything that happened.”

“You don’t have to,” he said with a small smile. “You have a place with me in Virginia. With the chickens you can pretend you hate since they will grow on you once you meet them and get to know them.”

She laughed—fragile but real.

“There’s still so much left to deal with?—”

“And we’ll handle it all… together,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Unfortunately, you will have to go back to work… back to deployments… and I’ll have to…”

“Shay,” he said softly. “I know this is hard. I know you’re scared.

But I’m not going to vanish. I’m with you.

I promise you that this will get easier and when it’s time to leave, Danni will help you adjust. I told you she’s been through something similar.

You, sweetheart, are not alone. Never again will you be alone. ”

She sank into his body, resting her head on his shoulder. “I wonder who will be a better listener, Henley or your damn chickens.”

“Humor is good.” He kissed her temple. “But hands down, the chickens are better.”

And with that, she closed her eyes and did her best to let sleep come, refusing to be haunted by gunfire or blood.

Only warmth and a man who refused to let her go.