Page 216 of Indulge
Finn and Declan exchange a look, and before I can argue again, they haul Reggie up between them. His good arm slings over Finn’s shoulder.
“Car. Now,” Finn orders.
I follow them out of the church, my hands shaking, my vision swimming with tears and light. Rowan’s already ahead of us, unlocking the SUV and throwing open the back door.
“Get him in,” he says, voice tight, eyes full of the kind of fear he’ll never admit to.
They ease Reggie into the back seat, Finn climbing in beside him with a towel pressed against the wound.
“I’m coming too,” I say, already moving toward the door.
“Bella—” Rowan starts.
“No!” I cut him off. “You can kill me later for being stubborn, but I’m not leaving him. Not even for a car ride, not after this.”
Rowan hesitates, his jaw clenched, then nods once. “Fine. But you sit behind me. If he crashes, you hold pressure. Got it?”
I nod, sliding in beside Reggie. His hand finds mine instantly, sticky with blood and trembling with pain.
The car lurches forward. Rowan drives like the devil’s chasing him.
Reggie’s head tips against the seat, his breathing shallow. “You should’ve gone with Declan, you don’t need to see this,” he murmurs.
I squeeze his hand tighter. “And let you bleed out without me? Not a fucking chance.”
Finn’s still working, his voice low. “Keep him talking. Don’t let him drift.”
So I do. I talk. About nothing. About everything. About how we’re getting married, about how I still owe him new shirts, about how I’m going to bake him cookies every damn day if he just keeps his eyes open.
He smiles weakly. “Sounds dangerous, Princess. Might die from sugar instead.”
“Shut up and stay alive,” I whisper, tears streaking down my cheeks.
Rowan glances back in the rearview mirror, his knuckles white on the wheel. “We’re almost there.”
I don’t take my eyes off Reggie the whole drive. Not once. Not even when Finn tells me he’s stable.
Because I can’t.
Because the second I blink, I’ll see the church again. The gun. The blood. The moment I almost lost him.
And I can’t lose either of them. Not ever.
So I keep holding on—to Reggie’s hand, to Rowan’s reflection in the mirror, to whatever’s left of my sanity—and I don’t let go.
Not until we’re safe.
108
ROWAN
“Rowan.” Reggie’s voice is rough.
I blink, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. My neck aches from the position I’ve been sitting in, half-slumped beside his bed.
“Can you take Bella home, please? Finn is gonna observe me tonight, then I’ll be out in the morning.”
I follow his gaze to the other side of him—Bella’s curled up on the chair, her cheek pressed to her arm, the blanket sliding off her shoulder. She looks uncomfortable as hell, but she hasn’t let go of his hand once.
