“I’m fine,” he says, walking over to the bed. He sits down beside me and takes my hand. Bringing it to his lips, he kisses my knuckles.
“You’re lying.” My throat closes up, and tears start to sting my eyes. “What …? How did this happen?”
“Hey.” He reaches up and runs his busted and bruised knuckles down my cheek. “I promise, I’m fine. How do you feel?”
“What happened to you?” I ask again, ignoring his question.
He gives a soft laugh. “We’ve got plenty of time to go over that.”
“But …”
“Shh,” he whispers. “Calm down. Don’t get yourself worked up over nothing.” He looks over at the beeping machine. “You needed an IV with fluids and rest.” He sees me looking over at it. “The doctor said you’re going to be okay.” His blue eyes come back to mine, and he sighs heavily. “I’m so sorry, doll. I should have listened to you. I should have … tried to understand what you were saying.” His dark brows pull together. “I—”
“Don’t,” I interrupt him. “I don’t want an apology from you, Law.” We can’t go back and change what has happened, and honestly, anything regarding him, I wouldn’t, even if given the chance. “I don’t remember …” I say, and he lets out a breath as if relieved by that statement. I look around the room as if it will give me some kind of answers. “Scout was there.”
His bruised jaw sharpens, and he looks down at my hand in his. “He was. He was working with Steve.”
“I don’t understand. You told me he was dead.”
“Yeah, well. Scout hadn’t killed Steve like I thought,” he grinds out.
“Did he do this to you?” I ask, biting my lip. “Steve?”
He shakes his head, giving a rough laugh that holds no humor. “We’ll talk about it some other time.”
“Law …”
“Another time, doll.” He cups my face. “I want you to rest. Don’t worry about it. It’s over.”
“Will you tell me everything later?” I ask, knowing he’s trying to hide something from me.
“Of course.” He nods once, leaning forward, his lips gently kissing my forehead. When he pulls back, he runs his thumb over my lips. “Little doll …” He pauses, his blue eyes meeting mine. I’ve never seen them look so tender. So mesmerizing.
“Henley?”
He pulls his hand away, and I look over at my opened door. Lacey is standing there, her hands on her face, and she’s crying. I smile, happy to see the familiar face of my friend. I hate that I didn’t get to speak to her after what happened at the Monroe fundraiser. I had to pretty much vanish. Again.
“Come here.” I pat the comforter beside me, letting Law off the hook for whatever he was thinking. She comes and crawls into bed with me as Monroe enters behind her.
“I hope it’s okay. I called her,” he says, watching her with a soft smile on his face.
I wrap my arms around Lacey and hold her shaking body against mine while I watch Monroe and Law whisper to one another with their backs to me. I have so many questions about what happened since I was taken from my father’s house. Once again, time is missing that I know I’ll never get back. But one thing is for sure—the man standing in front of me will do whatever it takes to keep me. His appearance proves that.
DAX MONROE
The sun is rising over the trees, shining down on us out in the middle of the woods at Death Valley. It’s going to be a glorious day.
I stand between Rellik and Law. Derek stands across from me. His face is a little pale, but I think he’ll catch on quick. The kid is going to learn firsthand how we handle shit.
Law walks over to the chair he brought out here. Twisting it around, he straddles it backward and reaches up, turning his baseball cap around backward, and places his arms across the back of the chair. He looks pretty good for a guy who got the shit beat out of him a few days ago. I think Henley has something to do with that. He hasn’t left her side since she woke, except for today.
It’s time.
To find out what pieces are still missing. What part Scout played and just how deep it goes.
Rellik bends down, digging through the pile of clothes on the ground by his feet. He reaches into a pair of jeans and pulls out a cell phone.
“I’ll take that.” Law nods, holding out his right hand. Rellik places it in his hands, and Law laughs. “Don’t you love the idiots who don’t put locks on their phones?” He starts scrolling through it.
“How long do we wait?” Derek asks, shifting from foot to foot.
We all look up at him, and he bows his head. Letting out a sigh, I walk over to Steve, who sits with his legs out in front of him and his back propped up against a tree. Rope is around his neck—tying him to the tree, holding him in place. “Wake up.” I slap him a couple of times.