Page 52 of Wrecked for Love (Buffaloberry Hill #1)

CLAIRE

I insisted on driving. It took some convincing, but after everything that had happened, Elia didn’t stand a chance of getting past me. I channeled my inner Gandalf, planting myself in his path like an immovable force with no room for negotiation. I was getting him to the hospital.

Elia had drifted in and out of consciousness on the way, but the moment we reached the ER, he snapped to life. Even on a stretcher with medical staff swarming around him, he looked unnervingly upbeat.

“I’m fine,” he kept saying, as if his body hadn’t been through hell.

If I weren’t so relieved, I might’ve strangled him myself.

I didn’t need to see the blood and bruises to prove that his body was crying out for rest, for care.

That brutal fight. I was there, and I’d seen what Saxum had done to him.

And still, my man had escaped from the hospital, stubbornly refusing to let his body heal—because of me.

Now, I couldn’t shake the fear that this time… this time, he might not get so lucky.

Logan was already there, his face drawn tight with worry. I’d never seen him look so tense.

“Claire!” Logan’s voice broke through my thoughts as he pulled me into a quick hug, his grip firm. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, Log. I’m fine,” I breathed.

Logan’s gaze shifted to Elia, still lying on the stretcher but very much awake. “How’s he?” he asked, his tone both cautious and hopeful.

Before I could answer, a familiar voice, faded but unmistakable, interrupted the tension.

“Hey! Still alive,” Elia quipped, his lips curving into a small, strained grin. Bruised, battered, but clearly still himself.

Logan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Barely. You look like Diesel finally got his revenge.”

Elia chuckled, then winced.

Logan smirked. “Pretty sure you’re still sporting that hoof print from last time.”

Elia rasped, “Those New York asses!”

“Huh! Thought they could fight dirty,” Logan said. “But I’m pretty sure Diesel fights dirtier.”

Their banter was the most normal thing in the world, grounding me in the moment when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control. I held Elia’s hand, his grip strong despite the bruises marring his skin. He wouldn’t let me go. Hell, I wouldn’t either.

Logan then said to me, “I’ve got so much to tell you, but it’s all handled. We nailed those sons of bitches.”

I knew who he meant. Armand Voss and Fritzy. Lucien Voss had already met his end, too arrogant to realize how much The Revenants had been playing him. Greed made people blind, and Lucien had fallen on his own sword in trying to grab more than he could handle.

The nurses initially asked me to stay behind, but in Montana, almost everything was negotiable. After some back-and-forth, they finally let me in.

“Thanks,” I muttered, relieved.

They stopped Logan, though. He could only shoot me a look as he was left waiting behind.

One of the nurses smirked. “We’ve been in contact with Buffaloberry Hospital. Heard about a patient who made a break for it.” She winked. “I’m letting you in because I don’t want that happening here.”

I could imagine it—a missing patient could probably cause a full lockdown in Buffaloberry. Elia just shrugged, a faint smirk on his face like he wore the incident as a badge of honor.

But eventually, I had to let Elia go as the doctors took over, leading him into one of the ER bays.

The curtains swished shut, and I was left standing in the hallway.

My fingers found the edge of my sleeve, and I twisted and tugged at the fabric while I strained to make sense of the muffled sounds beyond the barrier, trying to guess what was happening, one breath at a time.

Logan sent me a text: That dog, Bobo, is still out of control.

I replied: Log, do everything you can to stop the Great Falls Police from putting him down. Please. That dog is a sweetheart. I’ll be there as soon as I can to pick him up.

He responded: Let me see what I can do. I’ll fetch the mutt myself if I can. Hopefully, by then, he’ll be too exhausted to try and eat me alive.

I sent him one last message: Get Mr. Gunn to help you.

I tucked my phone inside my pocket, praying.

Minutes felt like hours. Then, a doctor finally appeared, giving me a brief nod as he explained Elia’s condition.

The checks had been thorough, the nurses had done their work, and Elia was being moved to a room.

Some of his wounds had reopened, but he was stable.

It was a small victory. His body still had to heal, but at least it wasn’t life-threatening anymore.

Once Elia was settled in his room, they allowed me back in. I slipped into the chair beside his bed, watching him like a hawk, not daring to relax.

His eyes fluttered open, and a weak grin spread across his face. “See? Still here.”

“Yeah, tough guy! But this time, no more running off,” I warned. The tenderness crept in despite myself. I couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he looked like this.

He chuckled, but the movement made him wince. “No promises,” he rasped, his eyes half-closed.

I brushed a hand through his hair gently. “For your information, the nurses are onto you. They wouldn’t hesitate to cuff you to the bed if you try anything.”

Elia attempted to respond, but pain flickered across his face. I leaned closer, running my fingers along the edge of his bandaged hand.

“Hey,” I whispered, “it’s over. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

His gaze locked onto mine, those familiar eyes filled with that stubborn spark. “I’ll always fight for you,” he whispered back, the exhaustion evident, as was his need to reassure me. “It’s who I am.”

I bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering for just a moment longer than I should have. “Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Elia’s eyes fluttered shut again, his fingers weakly curling around mine. “I know,” he mumbled, his voice faded.

I thought he’d drift off, but then I caught it—a faint smirk playing on his lips despite the bruises that lined his mouth. He looked so stubbornly adorable, like a kitten waiting to be petted but still holding on to his tough guy act.

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He didn’t answer, leaving me to wonder. Whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t going to share. Typical Elia. Even when he was down, he still found a way to keep me guessing.

His eyes fluttered open just a fraction, like he was testing me, waiting to see what I’d do next. I bit my lip, holding back a smile. Slowly, I let my fingers dance just above his skin, hovering, teasing, but never touching.

Until I reached his cock, and it responded instantly.

“Don’t worry, Chili, it still works perfectly,” he hummed.

“I can see that. Can I make you fall asleep?” I lightly rubbed his semi-erect state. But instead of calming down, he grew even harder.

“By doing that?” he asked.

“I haven’t tried,” I replied.

He let out a soft moan, and I knew it was best not to provoke him any further. Pushing a wounded stallion to its limits would only bring trouble.

“Seriously. You need to get some rest. Help your body heal, Elia baby,” I urged. I knew he couldn’t resist when I called him that.

“Hold me,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

I took his hand, and slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

“I love you,” I whispered, my words barely audible as I, too, succumbed to sleep.

I didn’t know how long I’d been out, but the sound of the door creaking open jolted me awake. My body snapped upright, adrenaline surging through me like a live wire. I turned sharply to see a stranger standing in the doorway.

Without a second thought, I leaped to my feet, positioning myself between him and Elia.

“Get out! Now!” I hissed, keeping my voice low, not wanting to wake Elia but sharp enough to send the message.

The man froze, his eyes wide, looking more startled than dangerous.

I stepped forward, forcing him out of the room. “Who the hell are you?” I demanded, my voice controlled but firm.

He blinked, clearly confused. “Who are you?”

I crossed my arms, standing my ground. Whoever this guy was, he didn’t seem like a threat—just lost. “Maybe you’ve got the wrong room.”

“No. This is Elia Lucas’s room, right?”

I narrowed my eyes, sizing him up. “Elia’s asleep. And you’re not going in.”

His jaw tightened. “Fine. I’m not going in, but only out of respect for him, not because you told me to.”

“Good,” I replied coolly. “Then be on your way.”

He hesitated, looking unsure of his next move, but he finally turned and walked away. I approached an orderly and reported the encounter.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” the orderly said. “Security’s been patrolling. We’re aware of Mr. Lucas’s situation.”

“Then where are they?” I asked, my frustration slipping through.

“I’ll call them now.”

“Thanks,” I replied, keeping a watchful eye on the hallway.

As I turned back to Elia’s room, I spotted a familiar figure—Annette—sneaking toward the ward with her usual determination.

It looked like she’d been stopped before, which was not surprising since the nurses probably didn’t appreciate young people loitering around.

But knowing Annette, she wasn’t the type to take “no” for an answer.

“Claire! Claire!” she called, rushing toward me before crashing into me with a bear hug.

“Annette! How did you get here?” I said, worried.

“Dad drove me.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but damn, I missed you!” I hugged her back just as tightly.

She sobbed against my shoulder. “I thought…I thought you were…oh, Claire! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Annette. Really.”

Her tearful eyes widened as she pulled back slightly. “And Elia?”

“He’s on the mend,” I assured her. “Sleeping right now.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a small figure slowly stepping out from behind a pillar. A boy, wide-eyed and cautious.

Annette followed my gaze. “Way back, when you asked me about that boy on the bike…did you mean him?” She gestured for the boy to come closer.

I smiled softly, the memory surfacing. “You’re Daniel, right?” I greeted as he approached.

As always, he stayed silent, offering his quiet presence as acknowledgment.

Annette turned to me, her tone more serious now. “We’ve just come from the sheriff’s office. Daniel…well, he told them everything.”

My heart skipped. “What do you mean?”

“He saw everything, Claire,” Annette said. “Daniel witnessed Armand attacking you at The Willow that afternoon.”

My legs grew weak, but I didn’t falter. I wished the innocent boy hadn’t witnessed it.

I could only hope he had observed from a distance and hadn’t seen the full extent of what happened.

Grateful beyond words, I embraced him tightly.

So, this meant I no longer had to fear going to jail.

As Logan had mentioned earlier, “It’s all handled. ”

“Are you all right, Miss Claire?” Daniel asked shyly, seemingly unsure if my hug was too much.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “Thank you for what you did. You’re so brave.”

Daniel tried to hide the pride flickering across his face, but he couldn’t help it. “Oh, and by the way, Mom said I can bring Oscar home as long as I promise to take care of him.”

“That’s amazing! See, you’re not just brave. You’re responsible too,” I said, giving his shoulder a gentle pat.

Behind the door, I heard Elia stirring.

“I’ve got to go,” I told Annette and Daniel. “Head home, okay? And thank your dad for me.”

Annette hugged me once more before stepping back. “Say hi to Elia for us.”

I nodded, watching as they left together before slipping back into the room.

“Everything okay?” Elia’s voice was soft but steady. He looked more awake than I expected, considering he’d only had a few minutes of rest.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “What are you doing awake?”

“I feel better…but I missed you.”

Looking at his bruised face, the emotions I’d been holding back finally caught up to me. Before I knew it, a tear slipped down my cheek.

“Hey, Chili…we’re gonna be all right.” He attempted to lift his hand to comfort me, but I caught it softly and pressed it back to his side on the bed.

Life had a strange way of throwing people together, and with Elia, I wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe I’d erase the brutal fight, but even that was proof of his strength—his heart.

“Yeah, we are.” I quickly wiped away the tear. “We’ve got a witness who saw Armand Voss break into The Willow and attack me, and he had told the sheriff everything.”

A grin spread across his face, but he didn’t say a word. Slowly, he moved his bandaged hand toward his face, pointing to his lips. And in an instant, I closed the gap and granted him the kiss.