Page 63 of Wild Hearts (Ruby Ridge #1)

catalina

. . .

A week later

T hey told me three days, it’s been a week. Apparently the pills I took were laced with fentanyl, and they wanted to keep me under observation a bit longer. I just need them to do the fucking psych evaluation so I can go home.

I’m fucking exhausted—not the kind that sleep can fix, but the kind that settles in your bones, making it hard to remember what breathing used to feel like.

“I’m fine,” I whisper to the doctor as he reviews my chart for the third time, like flipping the pages will tell him something I haven’t already said. “I just want to go home.”

He nods as he flips through the chart. “We still need to wait on your psych evaluation. Once we’re sure you’re being discharged into a stable home and mental health environment, we’ll process your release.”

I nod because arguing takes energy I don’t have. I lean back against the pillows and close my eyes just long enough to wish I were anywhere else.

A nurse pokes her head in a minute later. “You’ve got visitors.”

Amelia and Layla rush in, gasping, both of them already crying before they reach the bed. The second they do, their arms wrap around me from both sides, as if they hold me tight enough, they can glue me back together.

“Bitch,” Amelia chokes out, gripping my shoulder. “Don’t do that again.”

Layla’s voice cracks. “You scared us so bad, Cat.”

I press my face into their arms, feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes. My chest trembles with the weight of what I’ve done, what I put them through. “I promise I won’t,” I whisper, voice breaking as a single tear slips down my cheek.

We stay like that—clinging, crying, breathing each other in. And then, slowly, they start to pull away.

Amelia wipes her face, trying to recover her usual sarcasm but failing. “We’re not your only surprise.”

Layla kisses my forehead. “You’ve got more people lining up for hugs.”

The door opens again. This time, it’s Maverick and Reed.

Reed walks in first, slow and quiet, eyes full of something I can’t name. He doesn’t say anything at first. He steps forward, wrapping me in a gentle hug, careful not to press too hard against the wires still taped to my skin.

When he pulls back, his voice is soft. “I get it,” he says. “More than you think.”

He holds my gaze for a beat longer, and I feel it—something in his eyes that says me too. Like he knows what it’s like to fall apart quietly, and the courage it takes to wake up the next day.

I wonder about him, about the things he carries that no one sees .

Maverick crashes into me next. “Hey, sugar,” he says, pulling me into a hug that lifts me halfway off the bed.

I grunt, laughing through the ache in my ribs. “You’re gonna knock out my IV, you oversized goon.”

He grins, but when he lets go, his eyes linger a little longer than I expect. There’s no joke there, just relief.

My gaze darts past him. “Where’s Carter?”

The question slips out before I even mean to say it. Maverick’s face shifts, and he doesn’t speak right away.

Oh my god, he left. He fucking left.

The door creaks again, his scent of cedar and pine filling the room.

He’s still wearing the same clothes I left him in—black wrinkled Carhartt hoodie, his black cowboy hat, jeans stiff from dried sweat, and his boots scuffed from ranch chores.

His hair is a mess, his jaw is dark with his untrimmed beard, his eyes are bloodshot and sunken in, and in his calloused hands, he’s holding a bouquet of purple pansies.

My favorite.

He doesn’t say anything right away. He ambles to my bedside with that same quiet, stormy look he wears.

He sets the vase down on the little table beside me, the glass clinking softly against the metal.

His fingers linger on the flowers for a beat too long before he turns back toward me, tortured eyes locked on mine.

He cups my face, his thumb brushing beneath my eye, wiping away a tear I didn’t even realize had slipped down.

“You scared me, baby,” he whispers, his voice wobbly, like the words are splintered pieces of his soul.

“I love you,” he says against my lips, his voice shaking.

He drops his forehead against mine, as his thumb traces a slow line across my cheek.

“I don’t know how to do this right. I don’t have the words.

” His voice breaks, and a single tear slips down his cheek before he leans in, kissing the corner of my mouth.

“I’ve been sitting out there for a week,” he murmurs, as his hand comes up to cradle the side of my face.

“And I—I couldn’t breathe without you. I haven’t eaten.

I haven’t fucking slept. I haven’t even left that damn chair because what if I missed something? What if you woke up and I wasn’t here?”

He pulls back just far enough to look at me, his blue eyes raw, red-rimmed, swimming with everything he’s never said. Another tear falls, and he wipes it away with the back of his knuckle like it hurts him to let me see it.

“I kept thinking about all the things I never fucking said,” he continues, brushing a strand of hair from my face with trembling fingers.

“All the times I should’ve held you longer.

Looked at you harder.” He presses another kiss to my lips, soft and slow, before whispering, “I love you, Catalina. I love you so much it makes me feel like I’m falling apart.

” His thumb grazes the underside of my eye, wiping away another tear.

“I don’t care if you’re broken. I don’t care if you’re angry, scared, or sad. I want you, only you.”

His hand slides down, resting over my heart like he’s trying to steady both of us. “You always think you’re too much. But baby, I swear to God, you’re just enough. You’re everything.”

He swallows hard, as his thumb traces my bottom lip like he’s memorizing the shape of it.

“I know you don’t believe that—but I do.

I believe in you so hard it hurts.” His voice drops, and he presses his forehead against mine again.

“You think you’re hard to love, but loving you is the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. ”

A choked breath rattles in his throat. “I don’t care how dark it gets in your head. I don’t care if you fall apart a thousand times—I’ll be here every damn time to help put you back together.”

He’s already confessed his love to me when I pretended to be asleep, but this?

“I love you.”

The words finally spill, leaving me in a cracked whisper, my voice so raw it barely sounds like mine. My face is a disaster, but I don’t fucking care. I’m crying so hard my ribs ache, sobs wreck through me as I clutch Carter like he’s the only thing keeping me here.

“I love you,” I repeat, louder now, shaking all over. “I’ve loved you since the second you looked at me like I wasn’t broken.” My forehead drops to his chest, as I fist his hoodie in both hands, grounding myself in the only thing that’s ever felt real.

“I was so scared,” I breathe, every word unraveling something inside me.

“Scared because it’s not supposed to be this way.

You were my dad’s best friend. You were supposed to keep your distance.

You were supposed to see me as a brat, not someone you’d…

love back.” My voice cracks on that last part, another sob slipping out before I can stop it.

“My dad made me feel like I had to earn love. Like I needed to be perfect to be worth anything. I spent my whole life trying to be small enough for him, but it was never enough.”

I bury my face into Carter’s neck, breathing him in.

“But you—God, Carter—you never wanted me to be anything but exactly who I am. Even when I was a mess, especially when I was.” The tears come harder now, soaking his hoodie.

“I didn’t know how to love you right. I didn’t know how to accept something good.

All I’ve ever known is silence, disapproval, and distance disguised as love.

And then you happened, you ruined all of that. You made me feel seen.”

I finally lift my head just enough to look at him through blurry vision. “I thought loving you was wrong. But love doesn’t care about rules. It doesn’t care if it’s messy or if it’s forbidden. It just… is.”

My chest heaves as I struggle for breath, my voice nothing but broken pieces. “I love you. I love you so much it fucking terrifies me.” I press myself against him again. “Please don’t let go of me, not when I finally understand what it feels like to be loved.”

Carter’s arms wrap around me as he holds me tight. His hand cradles the back of my neck as the other wipes away my tears. He lowers his forehead, pressing it against mine. With a whisper, he responds.

“I’m never letting you go, baby. Not now, not ever.” He pulls away, pressing a soft, featherlight kiss to my lips. “You’re mine, and I’ve got you.”

I cling to Carter, holding the man I’ve truly ever loved in my arms. He’s all I’ve ever wanted, and never did I think I’d deserve a love like this.

Layla sniffles behind me. “I’m gonna throw up, this is so fucking cute.”

Amelia rolls her eyes, no real heat behind it. “This is so Beth and Rip coded.”

Maverick whistles. “Finally, fuck. He’s been a mess without you.”

Reed grunts in agreement, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

I laugh, wiping at my eyes, my fingers still clinging to Carter.

“Well, sorry to interrupt the love fest,” Vartan says, his voice flat. “But let’s go, Catalina. You’re still getting married.”

Just like that, the moment is ruined.

I feel Carter tense immediately. His arms go rigid around me. This man is about to swing.

“Don’t,” I whisper, tugging gently on his arm. “Please, don’t.” I push myself upright, my heart racing, but something inside me feels clearer than it ever has. I look my father dead in the eyes.

“Get out.”

His brows rise, his smug expression faltering. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” I say, my voice louder now. “Get the fuck out.”

His lips press into a thin line, eyes narrowing.

“I almost killed myself trying to be the daughter you wanted. Trying to prove I was good enough. Smart enough. Obedient enough. I choked myself on your expectations until I couldn’t breathe anymore.”

My chest rises and falls with each word, but I keep going, rage and grief bleeding through every syllable. “All I ever wanted was a scrap of love from you, just a fucking ounce. And you couldn’t even give me that.”

He says nothing as he stands there, staring at me like I’m speaking a language he refuses to understand.

“The only parent I ever had was Mom,” I say, “you’re a fucking stranger.

A name on a bank account, a ghost who showed up to criticize but never once showed up to care.

” Tears burn in my eyes again, but I don’t let them fall.

“I don’t want your money, I don’t want your fucking last name, and I sure as hell don’t want your goddamn wedding.

” I point to the door, voice shaking now with fury.

“Get the fuck out of my room and go shove your wedding up your ass!”

He doesn’t speak.

Carter interjects.

“You heard her,” he growls, “leave.”

Vartan stands there, unmoving, like he’s waiting for me to back down. Like I always have.

I don’t. I stare him down with my chin high and my spine straight, even though my body’s still stuck to the machines. My voice might shake, but it doesn’t fucking break.

He scoffs, the familiar curl of his lip returning like a bad habit. “Jesus, Catalina,” he mutters, “this little performance won’t save you from reality. You’re still a failure, just like your mother was. Always emotional, and always so fucking desperate for attention.”

The oxygen in the room gets sucked straight from my lungs.

Carter moves before I can even blink. He steps in front of me. His body blocks my view of Vartan completely, and when he speaks, his voice is low, controlled.

“Don’t you ever,” Carter growls, “speak about Catalina or her mother like that again.”

Vartan tries to play it off with a smirk, but Carter keeps going.

“You think being cold makes you strong? You think power means money and manipulation?” He leans in, shoulders squared. “You’re not powerful. You’re a coward in a tailored suit.”

Maverick lets out a low whistle behind him. Reed folds his arms, watching quietly like he’s waiting to back his brother up if shit hits the fan .

Carter doesn’t blink. “You had the chance to love a daughter who would’ve moved mountains for you,” he says, jabbing his finger into his chest. “And you chose to break her instead. That’s not parenting, that’s being fucking pathetic.”

The room goes still. Even the monitors seem to pause. Then the silence breaks with loud claps.

Amelia stands at the foot of my bed, slow-clapping with a deadpan face, mascara streaked down her cheeks. “That’s the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”

Layla joins in next, then Maverick, then Reed. The entire room fills with the sounds of applause echoing off sterile walls.

Vartan turns beet red, his face practically glowing with embarrassment.

He adjusts his cufflinks like that’s going to restore his dignity, but it’s already gone.

The emperor’s naked and everyone knows it.

He doesn’t say a word as he spins on his heels and walks out, the door clicking shut behind him.

I exhale so profoundly that it feels like I’ve been holding it in for years. Carter turns back to me slowly, his hand rests gently on the side of my face, as he caresses my cheek.

I smile through the tears still clinging to my lashes.

“I’m free,” I whisper, my voice soft but certain.

And this time? I mean it.