I also knew that we had an escort and as long as I didn’t make any threatening moves and screw the pooch, I would make it out of this alive—and not as Dusty’s wife.
But, they say, all good plans have the potential to be FUBAR—fucked up beyond all repair. It’s also why one is supposed to have a plan B, in case plan A goes up in a goddamn ball of flames.
Just like right then.
Something snapped in Dusty.
One second, he was holding the phone tight and the next he growled and started to pull over.
Once he was on the shoulder, he turned to me with an accusing look in his eye.
“Were you really going to marry him?” he snarled.
I didn’t see the point in lying.
It was obvious that he was already quite pissed.
“Yes,” I answered honestly.
His eyes went electric. “You’re. Mine.”
It was at that point that I should’ve been more careful. I shouldn’t have laughed in his face. What I also shouldn’t have done was close my eyes as my guffaws of hilarity poured through me.
Otherwise I would’ve seen him coming.
The only good thing that I could say was that at least he used the phone to smash into my face—effectively breaking it into two unusable pieces.
The bad was that the blow to the face stunned me and I couldn’t fight back for a few precious seconds. During those seconds where I was immobilized, I never expected another vicious punch to the stomach.
Or, at least, what I thought was a punch.
The screaming pain didn’t come until after Dusty was yanked out of the car straight through the hole that had once been the glass of the window.
I also didn’t expect my father to be the one to do the breaking of said window…with his fist.
The passenger side door opened right around the time I stared in awe at the sight of Dusty’s feet leaving the vehicle and I turned to see who was at my back.
I broke down when I saw it was Rome.
Or, that might’ve been because my stomach was on fire.
Either way, I wasn’t in a good place when he pulled me from Dusty’s car.
The good thing was that Rome caught me when my feet decided to no longer support me.
And when I passed out, I was in my father’s arms.
My last conscious thought was of Tyler and whether he’d made it through just as safely as I did.
Chapter 24
I wonder how many people think ‘what the fuck’ after talking to my woman.
-Tyler’s secret thoughts
Tyler
The towing of the rigged-to-blow car was anti-climactic.
I hadn’t even made it halfway to the destination when a small poof of smoke and sparks lifted away from the vehicle and into the air.
Moments after that, there wasn’t even smoke.
After pulling over to the side of the road and making sure that I was the only thing within a few thousand yards, I backed away slowly, staring at Dusty’s work with a critical eye.
Using the mic at my shoulder, I called it in to dispatch. Nobody answered.
Frowning at my mic, I realized that I might be too far out of town for the mics to work.
Which was why I called into dispatch by phone instead. Katy was the one to answer.
“I’ll reroute the bomb squad,” she answered. “They’re less than ten minutes away.”
With that, I walked backward until I was far enough away that nothing would affect me if it did decide to blow and waited for the bomb squad to arrive.
All the while, I worried about Reagan.
Something was souring in my gut the longer that I stood there. Something was wrong.
I hadn’t gotten the confirmation yet, but I knew in my heart that something big had happened and nobody was relaying it to me—maybe out of consideration for my life seeing as I was supposed to be driving a rigged-to-blow vehicle into nowhere.
Then again, it could also be the fact that my mic was out of range and I couldn’t hear anything more. Whatever the reason, the feeling was growing like a fever pitch inside of me.
Something strong was urging me to go and I was never one to ignore my gut.
I’d just started jogging in the direction of town when a vehicle raced toward me.
The bomb squad.
I waved the vehicle down and pointed to the truck.
After relaying everything I knew and what had just happened with the puff of smoke, five men got into gear.
I’d just contemplated calling in to Katy again when Rome pulled up on his motorcycle.
I took one look at his blood-stained white t-shirt and knew that my suspicions were warranted.
“Is she okay?” I asked, staring at the blood—my worst nightmare come to pass.
“She was stabbed in the stomach.” He paused. “And she lost consciousness and was still unconscious when the ambulance took her away.”
Rome never beat around the bush. Never sugar coated anything.
And for once, I hated him for being so direct.
“Take me to her.”
***
“The stab wound wasn’t too severe, but it nicked her aorta.” The doctor pressed to his own stomach to explain where she’d been stabbed. “She’s fine in that aspect. The nick was so small that it was able to clot on its own. However, she needs to be extremely careful with herself over the next couple of weeks. Fortunately, the knife was a small blade and she should make a full recovery as long as there’s no infection.”
Those were the sweetest words I’d heard in my entire life—knowing that she was going to be okay.
The few minutes it took to get to the hospital had been the toughest ten minutes of my life.
Every single scenario had gone through my brain as I’d ridden bitch—and hadn’t even cared—to the hospital with Rome. And every single second it took to get there, my heart had been in my throat.
“Can she go home?” Bennett asked.
“I need to keep her overnight, just in case. But tomorrow, as long as everything still looks good, we’ll release her. She’s a lucky woman.” He paused. “The blow to her face did, however, fracture her cheekbone. She’s likely going to have a headache for a while, but that should heal up just fine on its own as well.”
Blow to the face. Stab wound to the stomach. Kidnapped.
I wanted to slam my head against the wall.
This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. I’d never, not in a million goddamn years, thought that this was where life would take me.
I was scared. I was worried. I was in love with a risk taker.
I was fucking screwed.
“Which one of you is her husband?”
The entire hallway was filled with men. Old men. Young men. Every single one of them looked in my direction.
“Fiancé,” I said carefully, trying not to get my face punched in when all I wanted to do was get to Reagan and lay eyes on her, make sure that she was all right.
“Good.” The doctor nodded. “All of you can wait out here. I’ll let you know when it’s okay to come back.” He stared at me, a look crossing over his face for a few brief seconds before turning back to me. “You’re welcome to come back with me now.”
With that, the doctor turned on his heel and started toward Reagan’s room and I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t stop to make sure it was okay with her father. I just walked and didn’t make eye contact with anyone. Eye contact would admit that I wasn’t sure of my position, but I was.
I was Reagan’s man and as her man, I had a right to go back there and be with her—even over her own family.
Though, I knew that Lennox was on her way and since this was the hospital where she worked, I had no doubt that she’d be joining us as soon as she arrived with Way.
“A few other things.” The doctor turned his shrewd eyes toward me. “I need to inform you that it’s possible that Reagan is pregnan
t. Her hormone levels indicate that she’s very early stages, within a few days. Likely, she hasn’t even missed her period yet to confirm it on her own. I just wanted you to know. She informed me that she’d like me to tell you.”
He looked at me like he was worried what I might say.
“Little coward,” I snorted.
The thought of Reagan being pregnant made my heart soar…and then take a nose dive.
I could’ve lost not only Reagan today, but our baby as well.
Son of a bitch.
“Can I go in?” I asked, sounding much calmer than I actually felt.
He waved me through. “Let the nurses know if you need anything.”
Then he was gone and I was left standing in the doorway, looking at Reagan who was studiously not looking at me.
She was licking her lips nervously and biting her fingernail.
“So…” I paused. “I guess we’re that point oh one percent.”
Reagan’s eyes met mine.
“Are you mad?” she asked.
I shook my head. “At you being pregnant? No. At you getting yourself into that situation? Hell yes.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits.
Before she or I could say anything else, a woman’s shrill voice filled the air.
“Get that piece of shit off the same floor as my sister!”
I blinked at Reagan, but Reagan only smiled. “She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s a loyal pain in the ass.”
I didn’t doubt it for a second.
Peeking out the door, I looked down the hall to find two armed police officers standing guard over the room that I knew Dusty to be in.
Bennett hadn’t been careful when he’d pulled Dusty from the car.
I’d honestly been surprised that he’d been there, but according to Bennett, he’d already been on the way to see Reagan because she hadn’t been answering her phone. Apparently, I hadn’t been the only one being supremely overprotective of her.
Way screamed, throwing the first thing she could get her hands on—which was a tray of food—at something I couldn’t see.
My two officers didn’t bother to stop her and I knew that the reason behind it likely had to do with them being loyal to me—and Reagan through me. Which in turn made them loyal to Way—Way who had a right to be pissed.
“Don’t let her get in trouble,” Reagan ordered.
I made eye contact with Johnny, who made his way through the crowd that had gathered to come to a halt at her side. Once he was beside her, he threw one arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his chest, guiding her away.
“He’s really on the same floor as me?” Reagan asked.
I turned back around and stared at her, feeling my belly tighten for an altogether different reason than what I’d been feeling earlier.
I loved this girl with all my heart.
“Yeah,” I paused. “But only for a short time. Since you’re in the ER, they don’t have anywhere else to put him. He’s going to be getting his stitches, checked for a concussion, and then they’re taking him to jail.”
“Where his father will promptly get him out,” Reagan drawled.
I shook my head. “No. He’s not getting out of this one.”
Her brows furrowed. “How do you know that?”
I walked closer to the bed, leaning one fist into it to allow my body to get closer to hers.
“Because if he doesn’t go down, I’m going to take him down,” I paused. “And I’m going to relay that to his father.”
Reagan’s eyes widened. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
I didn’t care whether she thought it was a good idea or not. I was doing it, whether she wanted me to or not.
There were things that a man didn’t allow—and that was for someone, or something, to harm what he considered his.
Reagan was mine, plain and simple. I didn’t need a ring on her finger or a certificate of marriage to prove that.
There was no doubt in her mind, my mind, or anybody else’s mind who saw us together.
And there never would be.
Right around that time, my phone rang and I narrowed my eyes at the caller ID.
“It’s the district attorney,” I said carefully. “Let me go get a couple of guards, or maybe your dad and brother to sit with you and I’ll call him back.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t need anyone to watch me, Tyler. I’m just fine.”
I squared my body up with the bed and stared down into her face. “You thought that this morning, yet Dusty was able to get to you. So, tell me again how you think you know everything when it comes to security. From my standpoint, I’m the professional here, not you.”
I knew that she was pissed at my words, but I couldn’t change who I was and who I would always be.
There was nothing wrong with making sure that she was safe.
“I can’t be put into a glass box, Tyler,” she told me. “I’m never going to go meekly into the night and follow your every order. That’s just not who I am.”
I felt my stomach tighten. “You’re reckless and going to get yourself killed if you keep doing shit that’ll put you in jeopardy. I can’t live like that, Reagan.”
She looked away. “Then don’t.”
I bent over so that my mouth was only inches away from hers. “It’s too late to leave. You’re mine. Your dog is in my house. Your clothes are in my closet. Your flowers are in my yard…the only thing missing is the final step—you marrying me.”
Her eyes were white hot. “I’ve already done that possessive thing, Tyler. I don’t want to do it again.”
Instead of pissing me off, like she’d likely intended, I trailed a finger up and over her brow. “I’ll never smother you. I’ll never dictate whether you can or can’t do something…I just want you to think it through all the way before taking any hasty steps in the wrong direction.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m a hasty kind of girl.”
I laughed and pressed my lips to her forehead. “And that’s who I love.”
She sighed.
Before anything else could be said, though, there was a harsh screech and then a man’s bellow.
“Fuck me,” I muttered. “I’ll be back.”
This time, it wasn’t Reagan’s sister doing the hurting—it was Reagan’s mother.
“I’m going to cut your balls off and feed them to you!” Lennox bellowed.
Apparently, in the time I’d been talking to Reagan, Dusty had been processed. Meaning he’d had to go down the long hallway where the entire thing was lined with people that loved my girl.
Bennett had his wife with one arm around her midsection, pulling her close to his body so that she couldn’t do anything she’d regret later.
Unfortunately, while everyone was paying attention to them, nobody was paying attention to the big brown dog that was hurtling himself down the long hallway.
One second, he was on his four paws and the next he’d launched himself at Dusty.
Groot landed, and the wheelchair flew backward, hitting the white-tiled floor due to the force of Groot’s launch.
Moments later, Groot attacked.
“Goddammit,” Lennox groaned. “I knew we should’ve locked him in instead of letting that little girl watch him!”
That was when Dusty started to sing soprano.
Epilogue
My greatest accomplishment today has been not saying what I’m thinking aloud.
Tyler
“My wife doesn’t talk to many people,” I admitted, floored at what I was seeing.
I was at a banquet for the city of Hostel and the mayor was presenting me with an award for my superb service for the city.
Reagan had been adamant that she didn’t want to come, but with how big this was for our town, there was no way that her absence would go unnoticed.
“She’s actually talking to someone,” Johnny said, sounding floored
right along with me. “Does she know that’s the mayor?”
I didn’t think so. If she did, she might’ve been keeping her trap shut.
“He started talking to her about his vegetable garden.” I likely sounded as amused as I felt.
My phone pinged and I pulled it out of my pocket, smiling wide when I saw the video there waiting for me.
Tonight was our daughter, Clarissa’s, first t-ball game and we were missing it.
We were also missing our son, Ellison’s—named Ellison Rome Cree—third kids’ pitch game.
This particular video was of Clarissa’s first at bat.
Her beautiful long, auburn hair that was curly like her mother’s, was up in a messy bun that I assumed Lennox had a part in taming and her baseball cap was turned sideways because it was too big for her head.
Each swing she took, the ball cap would fall farther and farther over one eye.
Bennett yelled something at the coach who had put the ball on the tee and suddenly Clarissa’s hat was gone.
Now, with nothing obstructing her view, she aimed the bat up with the ball and swung with all her might.
She spun in a circle, the ball going a scant foot from the tee itself, but still in fair play and everybody started yelling.
I could hear my mom and sisters in the back and then there was Rhys, my brother-in-law who’d turned out to be a pretty good guy to have around, yelling the loudest for our girl to run.
Clarissa did run, straight to where Rome was sitting on the sidelines.
She held up her lips as if she wanted a kiss and then Rome, laughing, leaned down so that he could offer her his cheek. Rome’s beard being the only thing she could reach, Clarissa gave him a kiss and then started running to first base as she was directed.
Laughing, I turned the phone to replay the entire thing for Johnny, who started to chuckle, his eyes watering.
“Oh, your girl is a heartbreaker,” Johnny said once the video was finished.
That, I knew without a doubt, was the truth.
Clarissa was a heartbreaker, just like her mother.
Ten years ago, I hadn’t been ready for Reagan Alvarez.
Hell, ten years later, I still wasn’t sure I was ready for her.
But, every single day that I spent waking up to her—to the sound of our children fighting or screaming—I thanked God for knowing what I needed even if I didn’t.
Too Bad So Sad Page 20