I couldn’t stay conscious. I wanted to, and my brain screamed that I had to—the son of a bitch had his hands on Hailey!—but each time I tried to move, to get the gun, still in my hand, pointed at the bastard so I could end this, utter blackness tunnelled my vision and I fell into the nothingness that came each time the bolt of burning pain sliced through me.

“Hailey…” I’d tried saying her name numerous times, but I wasn’t even sure if I was saying it out loud, or if I just thought I was.

Fuck. My breathing was labored with the exertion of merely living, and I couldn’t move without groaning in agony and passing out from the physical torture. I was bleeding out, I could feel the wet heat of my blood as it seeped from the holes in my chest. I was going to die here, without accomplishing the one thing I’d foolishly thought I could do—keep her safe.

Visions of that man’s greasy hands clutched cruelly in Hailey’s hair assaulted me, replaying in a vicious loop. Combine that with Creighton’s words—there’s only one way this is going to end—and laying here, so helpless and pathetic…

It was a fate worse than death itself.

More shots rang out, cracking through the sky, and I flinched, followed immediately by a guttural groan. They sounded distant—hell, everything sounded distant, muffled by a veil of agony and my pulse pounding wildly in my ears—but the bullets may as well have plowed through my heart, the way they resonated within me.

Jesus Christ, no. Hailey…

“Hailey,” I pleaded, trying to roll up onto my side again. “Hailey!” My voice sounded shrill and loud to my own ears, and I gasped desperately as the burning pain tore through me again. Black edged my vision, and everything faded, hazy, gray…gone.

* * *

Noises woke me from my semi-conscious stupor this time. Still distant, but closer than they’d been before.

“Hailey,” I said to no one in particular, just needing to taste her name on my lips.

“Stay with me, Alex. I’m right here.”

Hailey?

Jesus Christ, was I hallucinating? Was I dead?

“Hailey,” I said again, this time blinking in attempt to clear my vision.

“I’m here, Alex.” She hovered over me, swimming in and out of focus. But, goddamn it, she was there. “You’re going to be okay,” she insisted.

I felt something drop onto my cheek, and the realization crushed my insides.

She was crying.

“Jesus,” I hissed, stubbornly trying to lift my head.

“Don’t move,” she instructed, leaning down closer to my face. Which was good, because she sounded really fucking far away.

“You’re alive,” I sighed, swallowing.

“He’s gone, Alex.” Her fingers cupped my chin, forcing me to look at her. “Creighton’s gone.”

“You…?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Trent shot him.”

“Trent…” I didn’t understand, but I couldn’t seem to focus on what she was telling me, or what to ask in order to get the answers I needed.

People were milling around me now, a series of unfocused blurs of movement. I could hear them, a constant buzz of frantic words that ran together, floated around me, but never quite made it through the haze I was drowning under. It was taking all the energy I had to keep my eyes open and locked on Hailey.

“Alex, open your eyes,” she urged, wiping her arm across her face.

I hadn’t realized I’d closed them. “Hailey, I’m shot…bad…”

“The paramedics are here. You’ll be fine.” Her hand came up, and my own hand was grasped tightly within her grip. She kissed my knuckles, and though the movement cut through me like a lightning bolt, I gritted my teeth and took it, needing to feel her touch despite the realization that I couldn’t really feel it at all.

“I need you to know…”

“Anything you’ve got to tell me, you can tell me later. When you’re—”

“There might not be a later,” I groaned, wincing as one of the other people on the other side of me put pressure on my shoulder. Or maybe he just put more pressure on it—it was getting hard to tell. Pain still seared through me, but I was beginning to feel somewhat disconnected from it.

Maybe Hailey wasn’t the one who was distant from me. Maybe I was the one growing distant from her.

“There will be,” she said, but she began to cry openly again, wiping the tears from her face.

“Ma’am,” a male voice said, suddenly loud. “I’m going to need you to move away—”

“Hailey, wait.” I clutched her hand as hard as I could manage, hoping to keep her close to me. “He’s really gone?” My throat was thick and dry, obstructed by a lump of pent-up emotion. “Creighton’s gone?”

“He is,” she confirmed, nodding. “He’s gone.”

I let my body relax slightly, my grip on her hand loosening. “Then it was worth it,” I mumbled. “This was worth it. I need you to know that.”

Hailey clasped her other hand over mine, kissing my knuckles again. “You’re going to be fine—”

“I love you, Hailey Spencer.” I tried to smile, hoping it came out sincere, and not the grimace I was fighting back. “I need you to know that, too.”

If she said anything else in response, I didn’t hear it. The waves of unconsciousness had begun to crash down around me, and I drifted farther from her—the last place I wanted to be. Someone barked an order, movement flashed at the corners of my vision, but the darkness had taken me. And I let it.

* * *

I knew what exhaustion felt like. At least, I thought I did. But nothing compared to the heaviness of my limbs or the sluggishness of my movements as I roused from the depths of sleep.

Drugs. I knew that feeling; the weightless, nothing-fucking-matters stupor that came with a heavy course of painkillers running through my veins. I hadn’t felt it in years, but I had to be on a shitload of potent drugs. Good drugs. Because the memories of the morning were coming back to me in sparse, sporadic pieces, and I remembered that I’d taken two bullets to the chest and arm. I also remembered the scorching hot pain that cut through me after it, and I wasn’t feeling that now at all.

Yeah, good drugs.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, I took in the bland white walls and the pale green blanket that covered me.

Hospital.

Slow beeping sounded from my right, and I swung my head slowly to see the standing monitors beside my bed. Intravenous lines were strung from it, and I followed the clear tubes, which led to a PICC line embedded in the top of my hand.

Definitely in the hospital.

So, I wasn’t dead. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked.

I was also just as shocked to be completely alone. Obviously, nobody else thought I was in danger of dying enough that I had to be monitored too carefully. That was a good sign.

I wiggled my fingers a bit, the movements feeling strange and separate from my brain that was sending the message to do so. Then, I sought out the button on a cord—it had to be here somewhere—found it, and pressed it. Once, twice. I waited, knew I shouldn’t, but pressed it a third time, anyway. I wouldn’t be anyone’s favorite patient, but to hell with it.

A blonde woman in faded purple scrubs came in. “Look who’s awake.”

“I n-need to see Hailey.” My mouth was dry as cotton. I tried to swallow, but my throat was just as parched.

The nurse ignored me, instead choosing to check the monitors and press a few buttons. “How are you feeling, Officer Brett?”

“Like a million bucks,” I said slowly, my voice betraying my grogginess. “Is she in the waiting room?”

“And how’s your pain?”

“I don’t know, how are you?” I sighed. The nurse turned to give me a furtive glance, then went back to reading the monitors. I wasn’t the first surly patient she’d had, and I wouldn’t be the last. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not feeling much pain right now…okay? None, really. I just need to see Hailey.” I really hoped my words were coming out as clear as I thought they were.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not visiting hours. She’ll be permitted—”

“Visiting hours? Jesus Christ…” I breathed the words shallowly, as they weren’t meant for her, and leaned back, squeezing my eyes shut. Talking was the exertional equivalent of competing in a marathon.

“What about cops?” I asked, deciding to try a different tactic. “Are there cops in the waiting room? I need to speak to one of them. Immediately. It’s about…the shooting.”

Her gaze narrowed slightly. She was trying to decide whether to believe me. Either way, I was sure she didn’t want to be the one to obstruct information from an open investigation, and surely she’d heard that there were casualties found at the same scene I’d come from. “I’ll see what I can do, Officer Brett. Just, please, get some rest.”

She left without another word, leaving me sitting there with an overwhelming urge to close my eyes and sleep, coupled with nothing in the way of reassurance that she would actually even try to get someone in here to see me.

But a shuffling sound made my eyes open again a few moments later—okay, I wasn’t exactly sure how long it’d taken, and I hadn’t meant to close my eyes again.

But, Trent Montagne was by my bedside. “Christ, Brett, you sure know how to make a person worry. How are you feeling?”

Even through glassy eyes, I could see the purplish bruising and swelling near his cheekbone, coupled with a busted lip and the dried remnants of blood from a recent nosebleed.

“Never better,” I said, scared to move too much lest I feel more pain than I was ready to, but not wanting Trent to think I wasn’t capable of handling a real conversation. “Where’s Hailey?” Other questions warred within my mind, but Hailey was all that really mattered right now.

“She’s fine,” he nodded. “The nurses are still checking her over in one of the other rooms, but she’s just got a few cuts and bruises. She’s okay, Alex.”

Despite my relief, bile rose in my throat, and not from the medication. The thought of more bruises and abrasions on top of the ones Hailey already had... Enough time hadn’t even lapsed for her to have the stitches removed from her scalp yet, for God sake.

“She’s okay,” I whispered. “Because of you.”

Trent’s mouth had formed a tight, grim line. “I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done.”

“But I didn’t do it,” I said. “You saved her life. Mine, too.”

“It all worked out the way it should.” Trent pulled a fabric-upholstered chair from the corner of the room up to the edge of the bed. When he spoke again, his guarded gaze had diminished. “What the hell were you thinking, going there by yourself?”

“I had to try,” was all I could muster.

“It was suicide.”

“Maybe.” I downplayed it, but I knew he was right. I’d been foolish to go up against Creighton myself, thinking that what I felt for Hailey was enough to guide me in my plight to save her. The truth was, my affections for her made me crazy and irrational. When I’d seen that card from her father, stating there was even a chance he’d take me up on my offer, my reaction had been immediate: Hailey’s life meant more to me than my own. “Tell me what happened.”

Trent let out a long breath, running his hands through his hair. I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t sure he should explain just yet. He must have decided that he wasn’t just talking to the morphine that coursed through my veins, because he glanced at the doorway, made sure we were alone, and began to speak. “I went to your place, just as you asked—which I’m still pissed at you about, by the way.” His gaze shot up and he glared at me. “You could’ve told me what the hell was going on yesterday.”

“Keep talking, Montagne,” I groaned.

“Hailey found the card that came with those goddamn flowers—”

“The card?” My brows furrowed, and I let out a sigh. “Shit, I must’ve dropped it.”

Trent stared at me, hard, and I had a feeling I knew what he was thinking. If I hadn’t dropped that card, I’d be dead. Hailey undoubtedly would be, too. But he had enough tact to keep the thought to himself. “We went to Desert Canyon,” he said instead. “But we didn’t know how long you’d been there.”

“I went an hour before the time Creighton put on that card, trying to get a one-up on him.”

“A lot of good that did you,” Trent rebuked, irritated.

“Point made.” I shot him an angry glare. At least, as much as the pain medication would allow. “How’d you know where to go? I didn’t even know.”

He shrugged, looking genuinely confused. “I didn’t. But Hailey was looking at that trail map; she seemed to know where to go.”

I tried to contemplate that, but my mind was too foggy. “She was alone when I saw her,” I mused, my gaze never leaving Trent. “Where were you?”

It wasn’t meant as the insinuation it sounded like, but Trent’s jaw ticked, clenching under the pressure of his defensiveness. “I only left her for a moment, trying to secure a spot where I knew she’d be okay. I made sure she was armed, but the stubborn woman didn’t stay put.”

“Shocker,” I said drily. “I’m not blaming you, man. She would’ve done what she wanted, whether you’d tried to keep her safe or not.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

“See, we’re a match made in fucking heaven.”

Trent rolled his eyes. “If I’d made it around the side of that rock, I’d have had a good, clear shot at taking Banks out long before…things escalated.” He looked away from me, down at his hands, but his gaze came back up to mine. “I swear, I never meant for that son of a bitch to get Hailey, Alex. I never—”

“Trent.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. When I reopened them, I’d regained my composure, and I hoped I looked as sincere as I was. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. Hailey’s fine, you told me that.”

He nodded, but looked unconvinced. I wondered if he’d ever fully forgive himself for the decision to leave her unattended. “Turns out Banks had a guy checking out the perimeter of that clearing. I guess it’s a good thing I happened upon him before Hailey did, but he came out of nowhere.”

“That’s how you got your ass kicked?” My hand didn’t leave the bed, but I waved my fingers slightly, indicating his bruises.

“Pfft, you should see the beating I laid on him.” A moment’s reprieve from the serious stuff.

“Is this guy of Creighton’s alive?”

Trent nodded. “He was unconscious, and I unarmed him at the scene, but he’s in custody now. He’ll never see this side of a prison cell again.”

“Good, because I’m pretty sure he’s the one who shot me the first time. I’d love to have a chat with him. Alone. Off the record.”

Trent didn’t even hesitate. “Not a goddamn chance, buddy, but nice try.” His mouth twitched, but it wasn’t quite a grin. “Anyway, I must’ve been too distracted fighting this guy to see the other one had made his way past us and headed in Hailey’s direction.” Again, regret marred his features. “I heard the gunshot—the second one you took—and so did he. It was enough of a distraction for me to get the knockout punch in. But by then, the other guy had Hailey, and I knew I’d made a grave mistake.”

“You did everything you could do.” My voice was quieter now, my mind conjuring up a conglomerate of what I remembered and the story he told, seeing it play out in my head like a movie.

“As soon as I had the shot, I took it, Alex. I want you to know that.” Trent’s throat moved as he swallowed. “Every second that passed before I took that shot was hell. It was excruciating. I knew I was gambling with Hailey’s life, and I thought you were already…” He shook his head, breathing out a sigh again.

Now, it was my turn to look away. Damn it, I should’ve reached out and patted him on the back or something. But if I saw that devastated, haunted look in his eyes for more than a fraction of a second, I was going to do something crazy, like cry. And there was enough emotion in this room without that. “You saved our lives, Trent,” I whispered. “Hers, and mine.”

“I saw you fall,” he admitted. I watched his eyes scan the bed I was in, and the bandages covering my shoulder and upper chest. “I saw you go down, and I knew I would never forgive myself. I think that was the moment I really realized that the only reason I hadn’t called in for backup was because I wholeheartedly trusted your judgement.”

All I could do was nod. Words just weren’t an option.

“You know what I learned from all this?” Trent cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Enlighten me.”

“I’m never trusting your goddamn judgement again.”

Muted laughter sounded between us, followed immediately by a grimace on my face and a dulled throb of pain in my shoulder. “I’m not even sure I can blame you for that,” I said with a forced grin. “But, whether you trust me or not, I can tell you now, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you did. For me, and for her.”

“Her? Who’s her?”

The sound of another voice near the door made us both turn.

Hailey peeked around the corner of the doorway, standing there with new bruises and scrapes, wearing a hospital gown that matched mine. She still had her jeans and boots on, though, dirty and blood-stained.

“You are a sight for sore eyes.” The words came out of me in a sigh of relief. Something within me eased just by seeing her standing there. Bruised and battered, yes, but still standing. And still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

“I’m sure there’s a veiled dig in there somewhere about how rough I look, but I’m going to let it slide.” Her mouth quirked up, and she pushed away from the doorway.

Trent stood, offering her his chair. She took it with only a silent nod of thanks.

“The nurse told me you were awake,” she said softly. Then, her eyes narrowed. “Are you high?”

“As a kite.” I grinned, breathing in deeply. “But you still look beautiful to me.”

Hailey stole a glance in Trent’s direction. “Yeah, he must be high.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll leave you two be,” he said. “Just remember, the guy’s just taken two bullets to his shoulder. So, none of that coffee-cup-smashing funny business you all are into, okay?” He looked between the two of us, grinning like the damn Cheshire cat, then leaned toward Hailey. “Not that he’d feel any pain right now, anyway, I don’t think.”

I arched a brow at him, knowing damn well what he was referring to but not understanding how he knew. “I’m sitting right here,” I reminded him. “And you can leave anytime.”

Trent chuckled. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Hailey watched him leave, then turned to me. “He thinks he’s pretty funny.”

“He usually is,” I said. “Except for when he’s an asshole.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

“Maybe not, but guys can be assholes and still be good men.”

“Speaking from experience again, are you?” She leaned closer to the bed, laying a hand tentatively on my bare forearm.

I just smiled. Everything was all right as long as she was here, as long as I could feel her touch. I let my head relax into the pillow, my eyes closing as the heat of her fingertips sank into me, warming me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

She didn’t respond. Maybe she didn’t know exactly what I was apologizing for. Hell, I wasn’t sure I knew. I let the silence loom, content in the truths it held—we were here, and we were together. If Hailey wanted to talk, cry, swear, or yell at me, she could. Because we had time now.

But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she lowered her head onto the rail of the bed, letting her fingers trace softly over the tattoo near my wrist. “I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered.

“You didn’t.” Dull pain pulled at my shoulder as I turned my hand over, palm up, silently asking her to hold it. Her fingers entwined in mine. “I thought I’d failed you,” I confessed.

She raised her head, squeezing my hand ever so slightly. “You didn’t.”

My throat was thick, both from dryness and a swell of emotion. I wasn’t sure we’d ever fully agree on that, but I wasn’t going to argue. “What are the doctors saying?”

“You lost a lot of blood, but—”

“I meant about you.”

Hailey’s eyebrows rose. “You were shot twice in the shoulder and had a blood transfusion, but you’re worried about me and my bruises?”

“Yes,” I smirked. “I’m a good guy like that.”

“You think you still have to convince me of that?”

“Wouldn’t want you to forget it.”

Hailey rolled her eyes again. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And high as a kite,” I added. “Trent’s probably right, you know. I’m feeling no pain, so if you wanted—”

“Do yourself a favor and don’t finish that sentence, Mr. Magnificent.” She chuckled, and the smile she wore lit me up from the inside out.

“Fine,” I whined, giving her hand as much of a squeeze as I could muster. “So, two shots to the shoulder, huh?”

She nodded. “Yeah, basically. One to the outer part of your shoulder, and the second one in closer to your clavicle.”

“Oh, I like it when you talk all medical to me.”

Hailey’s eyebrows scrunched together, then she laughed. “I said clavicle. Good God, no more morphine for you.” She shook her head, but managed to compose herself. “You lost a lot of blood, Alex, but you’re going to be okay.”

I understood now why I was still alive. The impact of the second bullet had seemed so much heavier, so much more…vital. I honestly thought I’d been hit in the chest and left to lay there, bleeding from the heart as the woman I loved was murdered only a matter of feet from me.

Kind of a poetic tragedy when you put it like that.

“We’re going to be okay.” I said it softly, a newfound seriousness to my voice, reminding her that she wasn’t alone, even after all that had happened.

“It’s over,” she whispered, nodding, though I wasn’t sure whether it was in response to my comment or not. She wore a haunted look now, but it didn’t resemble the vacant torment I’d seen in her eyes the day I’d met her.

“No, Hailey,” I said, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. “It’s just beginning.”