Wyatt answered, dressed down in just his button up shirt, minus his blazer, and he’d switched his slacks for a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee. He looked so much like Webb, I did a double take until I saw Grady sitting at the little desk in the room swearing at his laptop. The Wi-Fi really did suck.

Wyatt ushered me in the room, turned on a tiny little device that he said would record the interview, and then launched into a million questions. I didn’t realize how tired and how stretched thin my nerves were until I had to recount every single crazy experience I’d been through since landing in Wyoming. I wanted to cry. I wanted to fall onto one of the beds, bury my face into a comforter, and scream until my lungs burst. I wanted to throw the remote against the wall and watch it shatter. I wanted to grab Wyatt by his shoulders and shake him while telling him there weren’t enough words in the dictionary to properly describe everything I had lost, and even more, what I had gained over the last week or so.

All I did was curl my hands into fists so tight that my fingernails cut into my palms deep enough to draw blood and carefully, thoughtfully go over every single minute of the last week. I spoke slowly and precise, making sure I hit every detail, captured every moment of fear and panic that had overtaken me once I realized we were under attack. Both men listened with a sympathetic ear and watched me with eyes that were kind, but still sharp and trained to pick up on anything I may have exaggerated or left out. It was intense and when I was done, my legs felt like Jell-O as I climbed to my feet to head back to Cy’s room. Wyatt offered to walk with me but I brushed him off, needing the short commute to pull my defenses back up so that I could be strong for Em. Telling them how I found her up in the tree, cut up and torn, telling them how all she said was that they hurt her, it caused a lump in my throat I couldn’t swallow around. Wyatt mentioned they still needed to talk to her and that she was probably going to get pulled into the case as a witness, but he assured me that both he and Grady understood she wasn’t ready for the pressure any of that would put on her. Frankly, I wasn’t sure when she would be able to stand back on her own two feet and fight, but I didn’t share that with him.

I paused at the door to collect myself and to pull my features into a mask that I hoped was one conveying confidence and assurance, just in case Em was up. Even if she wasn’t, I felt like I needed to fool someone into believing I had my shit together.

The lights were out, but with the door open behind me I could clearly see that the bed was empty and missing the lump that was my best friend. I had a moment of panic before remembering she might simply be in the bathroom. The light was shining through the crack at the bottom of the door and I could hear someone moving around inside the small space. I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck and walked toward the door.

“Em, the nurse said you shouldn’t get those dressings on your stitches wet. I told you I would help you clean up if you wanted to take a shower.” The process wasn’t easy considering the amount of skin on her that was currently being held together by staples and string.

I didn’t get a response, so I lifted my hand and knocked on the door while calling her name louder. The wood swung open under my hand and I blinked stupidly at the sight that greeted me. My brain shut down and my heart took over as Cy turned around from where he was wrapping a towel around his lean waist, water cascading enticingly over the muscles that cut across his upper back. His hair was blacker than black with water as he flicked it out of his eyes and looked me up and down. He ran a hand over his obviously tired face, but his lips kicked up in one of his rare grins and I felt it like a punch right in the center of my chest.

Tired and scared for his brother, worn out and battered from our week through hell and back . . . and yet . . . he still smiled for me and at me. It was the single most precious gift I had ever been given and I would treasure it forever.

“Sutton is down for the night. They gave him a sedative to keep him still, so he doesn’t inadvertently shift that bullet fragment. He’s not moving, so the doc kicked me and Lane out and told us to rest up. Waiting seems like it should be easy but he assured us it’s not, and even though he’s awake, Sutton’s still on borrowed time.” He took a step closer to me and I reached out a hand so that it was resting on the center of his wide chest. He felt so warm, so vital and alive. I had no idea how I was supposed to walk away from it and be okay.

“Where’s Em?” I gasped as he put a hand over mine and slowly started to move toward me. His actions made me step out of the bathroom. His bare feet pushed mine all the way across the room until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress in the center of the room.

“I showed up and told her I just needed to grab my shit, so I could move rooms. She had a little fit I wasn’t still at the hospital with Sutton and asked me who was going to sit with him tonight while we wait for his surgery. I told her the staff banned us from the room for the night, and before I could stop her she was out the door and on her way next door. I caught up with her and walked her to the ICU.” He shook his head and moved his hands so that he was holding onto either side of my face. He tilted my head back and lowered his head until our lips barely touched. “The nurses didn’t even try and talk her out of going in the room. She settled herself in the chair next to his bed and told me she would be back here in the morning before he woke up. I figured I would come back here, clean up and wait for you to show, so we could have a proper goodbye.” His words kissed my lips and wrapped around me. “I don’t know what Sutton was thinking, sending a girl like that away, but something tells me when he gets better he’s going to regret it more than he regrets any of the other shit choices he’s made about women.”