Page 102 of Fragile Sanctuary

They worked in tandem as I tried to let myself float away and not feel the pain of Susie holding my wound together or the glue being placed across my flesh. I hummed to myself, keeping my eyes closed.

The screech of tires had my eyes flying open. I quickly spotted Shep’s truck, but it wasn’t him my gaze landed on. It was Anson. He stalked across the pavement, his eyes wild. His dark gray T-shirt was pulled taut across his chest as it heaved with his ragged breaths. Everything about him was swirling darkness, as if shadows clung to him somehow.

The sea of emergency services personnel parted for him as if sensing the darkness. He prowled toward me, something in his movements more animal than human. His blue-gray gaze swept over me, assessing anything that was out of place in a matter of moments.

He slowed just as he approached the gurney, and I opened mymouth to tell him I was okay, but I didn’t get a chance. He pulled me into his arms, the move heartbreakingly gentle and forceful all at once.

I felt each heave of Anson’s chest against mine. Each inhale and exhale felt jagged as if they caught on tattered pieces of his heart. “Reckless,” he choked out.

My arms went around him, and I held on tight. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” he growled. “There’s a goddamn gash on your forehead, and someone drove you off the fucking road.” Anson’s arms shook around me, vibrating with fury, and maybe even fear.

I gripped him tighter, trying to assure him with my body as much as my mind that I was okay. “The doctor already fixed my head. I’m okay, Biscuit’s okay. I just need to go home and have a long soak in a bath.”

Anson kept holding on. “Someone tried to hurt you.”

The words were barely audible, more sound than syllables. Tortured and coated in barbed wire.

The reminder hadmybody trembling. It hadn’t been an accident. Whoever it was had wanted to harm me. I wished I could believe that it was a random tourist experiencing a blast of road rage, but I knew that wasn’t true.

Someone had tried to burn my house down a couple of nights ago, leaving behind what might as well have been a death threat. And I hadn’t wanted to deal with the reality of that. But now, I had no choice.

Someone out there hated me. Hated me so badly they wanted to hurt me in the worst ways possible.

Anson pressed his face to my neck. “Nothing can happen to you.”

I wanted to reassure him that nothing would, but I wasn’t so sure I could.

“What the hell is going on with you two?” Trace’s deep voice broke into the bubble surrounding Anson and me.

As I tried to pull back, I remembered that we had an audience, and every pair of eyes was now glued to us.

Oh, shit.

32

ANSON

I felt eyes on me.Could sense the heat of them boring into my back. But I couldn’t look at anyone but Rho. While the damage to her forehead had been dealt with, I could still see the angry gash—something violent, something that had torn at her flesh.

The thought had nausea sweeping through me, fury fast on its heels. Because someone had tried to hurt Rho. Someone had tried to snuff out the only tiny pinpricks of light I had in my life.

Shep had shared what little he knew on the ride over. Someone had forced Rho off the road and down the side of a ravine. God, it could’ve been so much worse. It could’ve meant the sort of damage that was permanent.

Rho worried the corner of her lip, but my fingers flashed out, gently pulling it free. I couldn’t stand the thought of her being in any more pain, even the slight kind brought on by a nervous habit.

“What the hell is going on?” Trace barked.

That had me whirling on him. “Don’t speak to her in that tone.”

The menace lacing my words had Trace’s eyes widening.If I wasn’t mistaken, a hint of respect entered his expression. His face quickly resumed its careful mask.

“Let’s just dial it back a notch, everyone,” Rho said. Her voice was a balm to my overheated skin. She laid a hand on my back, the feel of her palm branding me, even through the cotton of my T-shirt. “Anson and I are…friends.”

“Friends,” Trace huffed.

“This isn’t important,” I snarled. “What’s important is finding out who the hell did this to Rho.”

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