by Gemma Snow
The room began to fill with people, friends, colleagues and family members, and Ev relaxed. Working in their field wasn’t a solo deal. She always had people to lean on. She’d gotten through a lot because of the way that the system supported people. She’d be able to get through this.
Maybe you won’t have to get through.
Her heart beat a little bit faster at the idea of maybe, just maybe, arguing her point before the two men and getting them to see it. At first, she’d been certain Quinn would be the holdout, but the more she had thought about it, the more she had realized that it would be Lucas who was difficult to win over, to make see sense. Instead of listening, he would probably tuck tail and run, to keep from hurting either of them. A cycle of self-sacrifice and all that. Communication, that was what Lily had said, and Ev knew if there was any way in hell and damnation she could make him see how this might, maybe, snowball’s-chance work, it meant being honest.
It meant saying I love you.
Ev hadn’t ever thought she’d say I love you to one man, let alone two. From the moment she’d known the FBI was her calling, she’d gone head down, late-nights-with-a-textbook double major. Her sisters had been her best friends because she had been too focused on her career and her future to spend much time out. Her happily-ever-after had been working for the BAU, not going off on the back of a horse into the sunset.
Well, it looked like things had changed.
The room was quieting down and Ev forced her attention away from the question of that inevitably difficult conversation to the wedding. Things hadn’t always been easy for Sam and Aimee and they deserved the happiness of their friends and family surrounding them as they celebrated their love and future.
Aimee’s side walked out first. Aimee’s sisters, Quinn, Lucas, a slow progression down the aisle of decorated chairs and beautiful winter decor, until they were standing in a line beside the trellis. Then it was her turn, and she followed the two other women Sam had asked to be her bridesmaids, Macy and Carla, down the aisle, settling in her spot across from Lucas and Quinn.
Aimee walked down first, her arm looped through her father’s. She wore a simple long-sleeved wedding gown with a lace bodice of sparkling beads and a blue throw over her shoulders, a delicate contrast to her dark skin. In short, she was radiant, but that had much more to do with the wide smile upon her face than the wrappings. She greeted each of them and the Justice, then stood below the trellis, waiting for Sam.
Ev wasn’t used to the sight of Sam Hawkins in anything other than fatigues and T-shirts. She dressed casually, even when she wasn’t working, and usually pulled her hair into a messy bun, when it grew long enough. But Sam had opted for a simple floor-length gown that made her appear young and ephemeral. She wore only light lipstick, her hair loose around her shoulders and her eyes just a touch watery.
Ev’s eyes were starting to feel a little watery, too, because there was no doubt in her mind that Aimee and Sam were in love, deeply and truly, and they were all supremely honored to share their day of union.
Goodness, the romance of Wolf Creek, Montana, had definitely gone to Ev’s head, because she’d never had a thought like that before in her life.
Until Quinn. Until Lucas. She glanced over at them, each so incredibly handsome, incredibly tempting in those beautiful suits, and they both seemed to feel her gaze, because they turned their heads to glance her way. The sensation of being looked at by both Quinn and Lucas, not just looked at, but looked at, admired, wanted, was overwhelming, and Ev’s brain went into overload, dizzying and wanting and confused and…
Then the expression in both of their eyes changed and Ev’s body went from hot to cold in an instant, because that wasn’t the kind of expression any sort of FBI agent ever wanted to see on a fellow agent’s face. Everything slowed, the room going into some sort of frozen, achingly glacial pace, even when Ev tried to swing her head around to see what was happening.
It glinted, in the light from the fire, in the soft glow from the snow outside, a .44 Magnum that, while relatively small for the guns she normally ran across, was most certainly capable of wreaking destructive havoc.
Gun. Origin. Perp.
Her brain sped up and the world around her melted away until she caught sight of the hand holding the gun, then the arm, then the man.
No wonder she’d recognized Zacharias Hawkins’ expression. Seeing it now, rage, unmitigated, inexplicable, etched across otherwise soft blue eyes, wide cheeks curling into a furious growl, she knew that expression far, far too well. It had been on the faces of serial killers Penn Kingler, Darrell Sonnaise and Elliot Manaham. It had been on the faces of dozens of men and women she had helped to bring to justice over the last five years—ripe with anger, rich with injustice.
And it had been on the face of Peter Buldark the night she and Carly had held their breath in the closet and watched him kill Carly’s parents and siblings. Buldark had turned, ax in hand, blood dripping between his fingers, and for a fraction of a heartbeat, Ev had thought he’d known they were in the closet. He’d practically stared right into her eyes, the same expression on his face that Zacharias wore now. Evil.
But whether he had known they were there or not, Buldark hadn’t opened the closet door and come after them, and Ev refused to die now, refused to let a single other person she cared about, anyone in this room, die at the hands of a madman.
Lucas. Quinn. They were right in his path when he lifted his arm up, the gun clearly comfortable in his hand, as he stood calmly in the middle of the room, a stark contrast to the flower petals on the aisle beneath his booted feet, to the diamonds and snowfall all around them.
“Aimee, Aimee, Aimee.” And he was toying with them, wasn’t that wonderful? At least they now knew what the hell had been the cause of his aggression. Or rather, the focus of it. “You dyke.”
Confusion swamped Ev for a moment, and were it not for the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the insane man now wielding a gun at some of the people she cared about most in the world, then Ev would have actually laughed. Unkind words notwithstanding, Aimee’s dykeness was in fact the reason they were at her wedding to a woman. Zacharias Hawkins’ sister’s wedding to be exact. Then, the confusion was gone as quickly as it had come.
Fucking bigot. This man standing before them all, in a room filled to the brim with FBI agents, detectives and the whole gamut of law enforcement, waiting for his next move with bated breath, was nothing more than a good old-fashioned bigot who, yup, there it was, blamed Sam’s sin on Aimee.
“If you hadn’t made my sister gay, my parents would still be alive.”
Ev blinked at that particular statement and she was sure she wasn’t the only one. Thankfully, good old Zacharias was there to explain.
“They were going to a Pride parade.” He guffawed and the sound echoed in the large room, suddenly so cold and sparse, despite the beauty of the ceremony. “A surprise visit, right, Sammy?” At this, he turned to look at her, and Sam’s eyes were daggers, harsher than Ev had ever seen them before.
“If you hurt a single person,” Sam began, but it was clear Zacharias had a hold on her wrist she was afraid to break, for fear of what he might do when she angered him. Ev had no doubt in her mind Sam knew much, much more about her brother’s anger than the rest of them did.
“Just one, sis,” he began. “Just one person.”
‘One person’, Ev’s ass. Zacharias lifted the gun and the room came back into motion, too fast this time and in that moment not nearly fast enough. Because Ev saw the horror in Sam’s eyes and she felt the knife deep in her heart at the idea of Sam losing Aimee on the day of her wedding. Then, in a panic of adrenaline and fear, that knife deep in her heart twisted and Ev’s thoughts turned inwards to the horror down to the depths of her soul, if she were to lose Quinn.
If she were to lose Lucas.
Hawkins’ face changed and she knew she was the only one with the right vantage point and knowledge to recognize it for what it was. In th
e same instant he brought the gun up, she took a running leap and thrust herself between him and the men she loved.
Sam took advantage of the distraction and wrestled the gun out from his hand in less time than it took Ev to get the wind back into her lungs. They burned with adrenaline with fear and panic and the rough scrape of oxygen. She pressed her hands against the floor to fight the swell of vertigo, but her heart pounded too quickly and the sounds of people around them came in and out of focus, like she was in some sort of tunnel, losing her signal.
But she wasn’t a cell phone and it seemed like the sounds were getting further away, rather than closer. In fact, the more she tried to focus on what the people around her were saying, the more difficult it became.
“Jesus, Ev, you’re bleeding.” Sam’s voice, she recognized. But there was no denying that it was laced with panic and she barked orders out, as she dragged her brother away, calling for…a medic. That couldn’t be right. They weren’t on any sort of battlefield. They were in…Colorado? Surely it wasn’t Colorado. But there was snow outside. She could see it over the crowd of people around her. Sparkling, shiny, beautiful snow. She cocked her head to the side, but the view was obscured when someone stuck their face in front of her.
“Ev, look at me.” Quinn’s voice, now. “Ev, I swear to fuck.” Just when he said that, she gave a little wobble and almost toppled from her knees to the hardwood floor, draped over with rose petals. That was odd. Why were there rose petals in Colorado in winter? Roses didn’t grow in winter. Did they even grow in Colorado?
“Shh, I’ve got you, Evvie.” That voice was familiar too. Evvie. Who called her that?
Lucas. Lucas that she was not in love with. Lucas that she was in love with. Oh God. Oh God, she’d never told him, never told either of them. And now she was probably going to die. The knowledge was there flat in the back of her mind, a series of facts and figures that added up to one obvious possibility. She was losing blood and fast, her head was woozy, her thoughts were most confused and Quinn looked worried. Of course, it was the worry on his face that hammered the point home, because Quinn didn’t look worried. Not ever.
“Quinn.” She tried to sit up, even though those same columns and facts and figures told her that sitting up was most definitely a bad idea. Still, she tried, and large hands pushed her gently back down, so she was pressed against Lucas’ chest and breathing in the familiar scent of him. She loved this man, just as she loved Quinn, and she was going to die without ever having told him.
Like hell she was.
For a second, Ev actually believed it worked, that her anger had clotted the hole where the one shot Hawkins had gotten off had entered her…gut? It felt like it. But Ev knew well enough it wasn’t the entrance that was the problem, but the whole big mess of organs down there that meant her body was trying desperately to die. She had no plan of going along without a fight.
“I’m here,” Quinn told her, grabbing her hand. “We’re both here. Don’t you go anywhere, alright? We’ve got a helicopter on the way to take you to the ER, but you have to stay with us.” Helicopter, another sign she was dying. Interesting.
“Quinn, I…” What? What was she saying? It had been on the tip of her tongue not a moment before but each passing breath was more painful, distracting from the fury and upset at dying here, like this, and she labored to get more air into her lungs.
“Shh, baby, I know. I love you, too. We both do.”
That was important, but God, it was so hard to think, so hard to focus, and her vision was definitely blurring, like her hearing, going in and out until she couldn’t focus on a single point anymore, not Quinn’s face or the shiny snow outside the window.
Then it was her body moving, not only her mind, when Lucas carefully lifted her. His touch was gentle and soft, just as it had been when he’d made love to her that morning and Ev smiled, or tried to smile, though her body moved and jostled. Above her, she heard unfamiliar voices, then her body was lifted up from the ground and she was carried out of the room.
A stretcher. But she still wasn’t going to die today. She’d determined that, lying between the two of them, and nothing had changed. She had to say it, had to tell them both the truth, they needed to know.
The medics loaded her onto the helicopter, the sound whomping in and out of her ears in slow motion, just the way Quinn and Lucas argued with the medics before climbing into the helicopter behind her, their faces both clenched so tight she wondered if they had been hurt. Of course, her body was going into shock, so nothing hurt her right now, not even a bullet wound.
She wondered if shock could dull a broken heart.
But it was hard to focus on why her heart might be breaking or if it was broken right now, especially when the medic placed something over her face and told her, in a distant, warping sound, to breathe and Ev took a few shallow breaths before everything, blissfully, went dark.
Chapter Fourteen
Quinn had actually punched the wall. Over the years of their friendship, Lucas had been well exposed to the tight leash Quinn Langston kept on his anger, to the control and the rigor he used to keep himself in check. Much of his internal riot had to do with the Middle East, stories Quinn very rarely told them about. This time, it had to do with Ev.
Ev, who had been rushed to St. Peter’s Hospital in Helena after getting shot by a bigoted madman who’d brought a .44 Magnum as a wedding gift. Ev, who was in the operating room right now with a collapsed lung from the bullet wound she’d gotten saving Aimee’s life. Saving their lives.
Lucas’ heart hurt. Probably more than Quinn’s hand, which was now on ice thanks to a terrified nurse who’d started yes sir-ing him when he’d flashed his FBI badge. Quinn had never abused that badge before in his life, but normally had gone out of the window when they’d stopped being certain Ev was going to live. Which was about .25 seconds after she’d leapt from the altar in a goddamned gown and tackled the bear of a man holding a gun.
Quinn stood suddenly, tossing the mostly melted ice pack onto a table in the waiting room and staring at the wall like it might give him answers the doctors couldn’t. The heli ride had been short, but God, it had felt like a million years to rush her through the hospital doors and into the operating room. They’d been waiting in this sterile hell for over two hours and still they were no closer to Ev’s recovery, to taking her home and… And what? Leaving.
Fuck if he knew now. He’d planned to leave, after all was said and done, but the thought of losing her made him sick, made it feel like it was his lungs collapsing and there was no surgeon or doctor who would be able to stitch him up.
He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Quinn that he loved this woman. In fact, he hadn’t been nearly vehement enough, and now the truth, the potential that they might lose her—it burned him through.
“We need to talk, Lucas.” Quinn spoke through clenched teeth, breathing like a bull and pacing. He approximated a smile at the receptionist, but, given the concerned look on her face, it was more of a grimace. “Is there a private room we could speak in? It’s a matter of national security.” Wow, abusing my power twice in as many hours—I’m deteriorating quickly.
She nodded and grabbed a circle of keys from a metal filing drawer, then led them down the hall to a dark room. When she unlocked it, the lights flickered on, and she didn’t let the door hit her on the way out.
“You scared that woman half to death,” Lucas said, leaning against the doorframe and watching his best friend. Quinn had resumed pacing. “And what’s this ‘matter of national security’ bullshit? What couldn’t we talk about out there, huh? What if they can’t find us?” It wasn’t good that both of their control was beginning to fray at the same time. Definitely, one hundred percent not good.
“Fuck…” Quinn rubbed his face and chin and when he moved his hands away, his green eyes sparkled with moisture. Lucas could relate. “There’s something we need to talk about and it’s private, okay? God, I was gonna wait to do this…” He
shook his head. “Of course, I was gonna wait for Ev…”
He looked Lucas square in the eye then and everything else in that moment disappeared. No, Lucas hadn’t jumped on the dick bandwagon, so to speak, but his love for Quinn Langston was there, brotherly love, intimate, special, deep and bonding love born from a lifetime of shared suffering—and shared joy. Lucas didn’t know why, but something akin to relief washed over him. This was Quinn, for fuck’s sake. With the exception of one pretty glaring example, they didn’t keep secrets from each other.
“Are you asking her to marry you?” It was the first thing that had popped into Lucas’ head and it made sense, in a doom and gloom sort of way. Of course, Quinn would want to give Lucas a heads-up before asking Ev to marry him, especially after all they hadn’t talked about that morning…
But the expression on Quinn’s face actually made an approximation of a laugh burst from Lucas’ throat, despite the winding pressure around his neck telling him this was not going to be okay.
“No?” Quinn said it like a question. “I mean, of course one day I want to ask her. But that’s… This is more complicated than that.” He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a neat little package of all the words that couldn’t be said on television.
“Jesus, Langston, whatever the fuck is going on, I can take it, okay?” Lucas almost said he’d had worse, but the truth was that the idea of losing Ev, even as just a friend, made his years on the force, his traumas and his darkness all feel a little less important.
“What I’m trying to tell you, it’s crazy.” Quinn rubbed his hands over his face. “Like fucking crazy. Like Ev would have a field day psychoanalyzing crazy.”
Lucas didn’t respond, only stared Quinn in the eye until he took a deep breath and continued.
“I think she wants us both,” he said quietly. “Not wants, but wants to keep. I don’t know, like the guys at the ranch and Micah and Dec, the trainers. I think she wants to keep us both.” He scrubbed his face again. “And I’ve run over in my head a thousand times why that can’t work, why I don’t want that, why it’s not okay.” He winced at the word but barreled on. “And I can’t come up with a goddamn thing, Lucas. You’ve loved her as long as I have. It was only a matter of timing that I said it first. And Evs, she loves you, too.”