Page 178 of Knotting the Cowboys

She glances at Chief Reyes, who nods permission, then continues.

"After what happened at the market today, I made some calls. Dr. Sylvie agreed to share her documentation with law enforcement. She's... she's been keeping very detailed records."

"Dr. Sylvie?" I frown, surprised she’d be here this late. "Iris, the Omega Health Specialist?"

"And also a Clinical Psychologist," Wendolyn adds gently. "Trauma specialist, and surprisingly, she's the one who treated you that first night in the hospital after you were brought in from the rescue."

The memory surfaces hazily—those first hours after Cole pulled me from the burning house, everything smoke-blurred and shock-cold. A woman with gentle hands and careful questions, documenting bruises I'd forgotten existed, recording symptoms of long-term abuse I hadn't even recognized as abnormal.

"She's been documenting everything," Wendolyn continues, opening the portfolio with reverent care. "Your physical condition upon arrival. Behavioral markers of sustained abuse. Clinical observations that paint a very clear picture of what Blake Harrison put you through."

Chief Reyes leans forward, professional interest sharpening her features.

"May I?"

Wendolyn hands over the portfolio, and I watch the chief's expression darken as she flips through pages.

Whatever Dr. Sylvie wrote, it's clearly damning.

River moves closer to read over her shoulder, and his sharp intake of breath makes my stomach clench.

"Malnutrition," Chief Reyes reads quietly. "Chronic sleep deprivation. Hypervigilance consistent with ongoing threat assessment. Scarring on wrists consistent with restraint marks." She looks up at me. "This is from your first night here?"

I nod, unable to find words. Austin pulls Luna closer, like he can protect her from the words hanging in the air. She babbles contentedly, oblivious to the way her fathers have gone still as stones.

"There's more," Wendolyn says, pulling out a second folder. "Dr. Sylvie also documented the progression of your recovery. Weight gain, improved sleep patterns, decreased startle response. Clinical proof that removing you from Blake's influence had immediate positive effects."

"This is evidence of systematic abuse," Chief Reyes states flatly. "Combined with the financial records Mr. Cross uncovered and today's incident, we're building a strong case for criminal prosecution."

"Building," Cole repeats, the word bitter in his mouth. "While he's out there watching. Planning."

"Which is why we implement protective protocols immediately." The chief's voice brooks no argument. "Deputy Martinez is already beginning the perimeter assessment. By tomorrow morning, we'll have a complete security evaluation."

She pulls out her own notebook, shifting into tactical mode. "First, we establish safe zones within the property. Primary residence, barn, any outbuildings you use regularly. Motion sensors at all entry points, panic buttons in each zone."

"I've already ordered the hardware," Mavi interjects. "Military grade, with redundant systems."

"Good. Second, we vary all routines effective immediately. No predictable patterns, no regular schedules that can be tracked. Third, check-in protocols. You miss a scheduled contact, we respond like it's an emergency."

"Seems excessive," River murmurs, though his tone suggests he knows it's not.

"Celeste thought so too," Chief Reyes responds quietly. "Said we were overreacting, that her ex had moved on. Three weeks later, she was dead."

The comparison lands like a punch. Luna fusses, picking up on the spike in tension, and Austin stands to walk her around the room. His movement breaks the frozen moment, lets us all breathe again.

"There's something else," Wendolyn says, producing a business card from her pocket. "Dr. Sylvie wants to offer ongoing documentation. Regular sessions to establish a clear record of recovery, any incidents of harassment, psychological impact of Blake's actions. Pro bono."

"Why?" The question escapes before I can stop it. "Why would she?—"

"Because she's seen this before." Wendolyn's eyes are too knowing. "Different faces, same story. And because Sweetwater Falls takes care of its own."

Through the window, Deputy Martinez's flashlight sweeps across the yard. He's methodical, checking fence lines and shadowed corners, establishing what normal looks like so any deviation will stand out. It should feel comforting, but instead it emphasizes how much our lives have changed in a single day.

"I need honesty from all of you," Chief Reyes says, closing the portfolio of evidence. "Any previous incidents you haven'treported. Any threats, no matter how minor they seemed. We need everything."

The men exchange glances, and I see the weight of unspoken experiences. How many small violations have they absorbed, thinking they were protecting me from worry?

"He called," Cole admits quietly. "Three times last week. Blocked number, but it was him. Asked about the ranch, made comments about pack structure."

---