Page 137 of Shattered Souls
One of the EMTs glances up at me, her expression professional but unyielding. “Springview Medical.”
A cold knot of dread settles in my stomach. The same hospital where Riley and Aurora were taken. The idea of them being under the same roof again—of my father being anywhere near her—fills me with a deep, simmering hatred. “Take him somewhere else,” I demand, my tone edged with desperation. “Anywhere else.”
The EMT shakes her head, already turning back to Bertram. “We can't. Protocol dictates that we take patients to the nearest hospital.”
I stand there, fists clenched, as they lift him onto the stretcher and load him into the ambulance. The doors slam shut with a finality that echoes through the night, and I’m left standing in the middle of the charred remains of the house, helpless as they drive away.
I stalk over to Logan’s car while I dial Royce to fill him in on Bertram’s determination to not fucking die. I no longer need to be here. If my father is under the same roof as Riley and Aurora, then you can bet your ass I’m going to be right there with them the entire time!
39
RILEY
Despite the heaviness in my muscles and the slight scratch at the back of my throat, I feel much more rested when I wake up. Opening my eyes, I immediately latch onto the dark orbs staring unblinkingly at me as though I might disappear if they dare close for even a fraction of a second.
His hair is a mess, sticking up every which way, and he’s pale-looking. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, possibly from the smoke since Royce said he went in to get me or from lack of sleep. Probably a mixture of both.
Despite his appearance, a weight lifts off my chest at seeing him, knowing all three of them are okay and that they all came.
We stare at each other for a moment, a whole host of emotions transpiring in that simple exchange. With only our eyes, we acknowledge everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. I silently admit how fucking terrified I was, and he confesses to nearly losing his freaking mind when he discovered I was gone.
He apologizes for letting me down even though he doesn’t have to.
I apologize for leaving the arena without one of them that night, even though we both know I had no other choice. That I’dmake the same decision time and again if it meant rescuing my daughter.
He says that he wishes they’d gotten to me sooner.
I tell him it doesn’t matter because they arrived in time.
The only thing neither of us brings up is his dad. Is he alive? Did they find him inside the house? The questions cycle on repeat in my mind, but I’m not yet ready to hear the answer. To know if I killed him or, at the very least, was responsible for his death. Or if he somehow managed to escape.
My gaze drops to his hands, noticing the thick white bandage wrapped around one.
“You’re hand,” I croak. Thankfully, I no longer sound like a twenty-pack-a-day smoker, although my voice is still not my own. Presumably, that will heal in a day or two.
He glances down as if only now realizing it’s bandaged.
“It’s nothing.” His own voice is thick. “Minor burn. Nothing that won’t heal.”
I frown down at his wrapped hand, before I slide my gaze away, feeling guilty. “Where’s Aurora?” I ask, realizing the seat Logan had been sitting in earlier is now vacant.
“Logan took her home so she could sleep in an actual bed,” Grayson explains. “Royce went with them. Doctors said you could be discharged once you woke up.”
Silence falls heavily between us as I stare at him before he exhales heavily. The top half of his body curves forward and his stoic expression fractures into one of heartache.
“Fuck, Tempest.” His voice is deep and thick, coated with anguish. “When I saw that godforsaken house on fire, I thought I was going to lose you. That we were too late. I’d never have fucking forgiven myself if you or Aurora had…”
“Hey,” I soothe, opening my arms, and he practically falls into them, his long, hard body resting against mine as he buries his face in my neck. “We’re both okay. We made it out.”
His shoulders shake, and I simply stroke my hand up and down his back, breathing in the comfort of being this close to him.
“Can’t say I’m sorry to see that fucking houseburn,” he eventually says, steel in his voice.
“You and me both. I just wish I could have witnessed it from theoutside.”
Lifting his head, he pins me with a glare. “Not funny.”
I can’t help it, I grin. The last twenty-four hours or so might have been harrowing. An emotional rollercoaster. Butfuck me,I am so happy knowing Aurora is safe and that the guys came for us.
