Page 75 of The Cowboy Complication

She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. With a sigh, she turned around to face him again. “No, you’re not.” She said it simply. Because it was simple.

He wasn’t the best. Not even close.

Eric started to sputter just as her phone began to ring. Digging it out, she ignored him as he started to yell, spewing things that sounded a lot like insults and reiterations thatshe wasn’t even that prettyandlacked sex appeal.

None of it registered. It wasn’t important.

She peered at the screen of her cell, frowning as Eric continued carrying on.

Why would Grady be calling her?

After connecting it, she pressed the phone to her ear, plugging the other one to block out the echo of Eric’s venom. “Hello?”

“Isla, Cooper’s been shot. He’s at the hospital in Billings.”

All the noise disappeared, replaced by a ringing in her ears. An endless toll that persisted as she raced down the stairs, shoving Eric out of her way as she went. It continued while she drove, foot heavy against the gas, oblivious to the darkness that usually made her uneasy.

Pulling up to the main entrance, she parked right in front of the doors—they could tow her for all she cared—grabbed her purse and ran inside, colliding with Grady’s tall frame as he came to collect her.

He pried the keys from her hand and passed them off to someone else, saying they’d take care of her car, like he thought she gave a shit what happened to it.

She didn’t. Nothing mattered but Cooper.

“Where is he? I want to see him.” She pushed at Grady. Why did it feel like he was holding her back?

The flash of another uniform caught her eye and she ran toward it, thinking whoever it was might lead her to where they had him.

“Isla.” Cooper’s voice was sharp. “He’s in surgery. You can’t see him yet.”

Turning to face Grady—her boss—she lowered her voice and stared him down. “Where. Is. He? I want to see him now.”

If she was really looking at Grady, she’d be able to acknowledge he looked tired. Worried. She’d see he was just as upset as she was.

Almost.

But she wasn’t really looking and she didn’t really care. Everyone in the world could fuck all the way off until she saw Cooper.

So much for all her claims of being sweet.

“I’ve got a room for her.” Devon—one of the men who worked with Cooper—came at them, walking fast. “Bring her over here.”

Grady practically picked her up and hauled her through the hospital, depositing her in a small room with a handful of chairs and a couple of small tables. He managed to get her into a seat and kneeled down in front of her, voice calm and even as he started to explain what happened.

But she didn’t want to know what happened. “I don’t care.” Isla tried to get up, but Grady gently pushed her back down. “All I care about is if he’s okay.”

Right then, Grady’s phone started to ring. He held up one finger, expression stern on her as he answered, putting it on speaker.

“Officer Haynes, this is Doctor Beckwith.” The voice was gentle but firm. “I wanted to let you know we were able to remove the bullet and stop the bleeding. Officer Staks is in recovery. They should be taking him to his room in the next half hour.” She gave directions to where Cooper would be, and the second she finished, Isla was on her feet, knocking Grady out of her way to dash from the room.

The elevator doors parted right as she reached them, like some sort of divine intervention. As if the universe knew she’d start dismantling the place with her bare hands if she didn’t get to that room as fast as possible.

When it reached the proper floor, she squeezed between the gap in the doors as soon as it was wide enough to pass through and followed the signs, only slowing down when she reached the room number Doctor Beckwith listed. Cooper wasn’t inside yet—it had barely been five minutes, let alone a half hour—but a clear plastic bag sat on the rolling table. Going straight for it, she yanked open the top, stretching the gathered edge to pull out a recognizable item.

She’d intended to press the fabric of Cooper’s T-shirt to her nose, but it was cold and damp in her hand. Pulling it away from her skin, a sob closed her throat. It was soaked in blood. Cooper’s blood. He’d been bleeding—hurting—and she’d been arguing with stupid-ass Eric. He’d needed her, and she hadn’t been there because she was so worried about getting her stuff and then telling her ex off.

“What the fuck is this doing in here?” Grady rushed in and tried to take the bag from her. “You don’t need to see this.”

Isla jumped up, swiping it away, clutching all she had of the man she loved to her chest as she darted to the other side of the bed. “Who shot him?” She was regretting not letting Grady explain earlier so she’d know who to hunt down. “Where is he now? Did you arrest him?”

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