Page 211 of Ride the Sky

Now we’re at Dakota and Davis’s, crammed in their kitchen. Everyone’s here, looking wild-eyed and haggard from the last twenty-four hours. Reese and Ford. Ruby and Charlie. Stede and Richter. Everyone’s running on fumes, no sleep. But after yesterday’s terrifying chaos, no one is ready to let us out of their sight.

I know the feeling. I’ve barely let go of Fallon’s hand since I got her back in my arms. She keeps reaching back to touch me like she knows I need it just as much as her. That physicalconnection that’s my lifeline to her. A reminder she’s okay. She’s alive.

We were connected in that basement. We knew what to do. Rely on each other. Fight for each.

If I had lost her…

Hell, I wouldn’t have survived it.

“Fallon, c’mon,” Reese says, appearing with a bag of clothes. “Let’s get you changed.”

After casting a flat sideways glance at me, Fallon lets Ruby and Reese lead her down the hall to the bathroom.

“You want to take a statement,” Davis booms as he walks Richter to the door. Tonight, his scary marine voice is in full force. “Make a fucking appointment. My brother’s not in any shape to deal with an interrogation.”

My family’s closing ranks. It’s what they do best. Protect.

“Gonna be a long goddamn day,” Ford says, storming in from the hallway, a bottle of Jack in his hands even though it’s barely seven a.m.

“I need a drink,” I drawl.

“You have a concussion, dumbass,” Ford grumbles, pulling the whiskey bottle out of my reach.

Thankfully, it’s minor. More annoying are the three older brothers currently on guard right now. Still on alert, their expressions are hard and grim and they’re booming orders like it’s their business.

A good thing, too.

They’re the ones that sounded the alarms. That came looking for us before anyone. They knew something was wrong the minute they saw my truck on the side of the road. They were the ones who had come to Tripp’s house earlier, asking him to help search. It was Charlie who saw my wedding ring on his finger and put two and two together.

Thank fuck for bossy older brothers.

“Then who’s it for?” I ask Ford.

“Me.” He takes a swig from the bottle then passes it to Charlie. “Christ, you took ten years off my life, kid,” he says, still rattled and pale.

“That’s why you have younger siblings,” I drawl. My head gives a twinge, and I hiss a breath.

A second later, there’s a big hand on my shoulder, strongarming me into a chair at the kitchen island.

“Kid, I will kill you myself,” Ford drawls, worry shining in his eyes. “Sit the hell down.”

“You hurtin’?” Charlie gruffs.

“Hell, I don’t feel great, man.” Breathing through the throb in my temple, I sit there and watch my hands shake.

“Give him a goddamn shot.”

I look up in amusement, in surprise, at Davis’s boom of a voice.

“Your hands,” Davis says, softer now. He slides a shot my way and I shoot it back. “It’ll steady ’em. Then you get some rest.”

I swallow through emotion. Grateful my brothers are here. To never let me down. And always have my back.

“You’re gonna be okay, kid,” Davis tells me. He palms my face, searches my eyes. “We won’t let you be any way else, you know that, right?”

“Thanks, man.” I don’t stop him when he pulls me in for a hug. One that Charlie and Ford each get in on.

When I pull away, my gaze finds Fallon in the kitchen. She’s dressed in soft gray joggers, a white tank top, and a long fuzzy pink duster that no doubt came from Ruby. Her fierce scowl tells me she’s enjoying none of the attention heaped on her by her sister.

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