"Room 4, down that hall." Sandy pointed. "She was asking for you. Very brave, by the way. Kept her head through the whole ordeal."
Devon was already moving, striding down the corridor, scanning room numbers. One. Two. Three. Four.
He pushed through the door.
Emery sat on the exam table, her hair tangled, a bruise blooming across her cheek, her wrists and ankles wrapped in bandages. But she was alive. Whole. Looking up at him with those green eyes that had haunted him for hours.
"Devon—"
He crossed the room in three strides and pulled her into his arms, careful of her injuries but unable to stop himself from holding her as close as possible. She was warm and solid and real, her heart beating against his chest, her breath on his neck.
"I thought I lost you," he said, his voice breaking. "When I found that mug in the grass and you were gone—I thought?—"
"I'm okay." Her arms came around him, squeezing back. "I'm okay."
He pulled back just enough to cup her face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the curve of her jaw. "I love you. God, I love you so much. I'd be lost without you. I can't—I couldn't imagine my life without you in it."
She laughed. Actually laughed. The sound caught him off guard.
"What?"
"You're coming on a bit strong." Her smile was soft, warm, everything he'd been terrified he'd never see again. "Though, I appreciate the dedication."
"I almost lost you."
"But you didn't." She reached up, covering his hands with hers. "I'm right here. And I love you, too."
He kissed her then, pouring every ounce of fear and relief and love into it. She kissed him back, her hands sliding into his hair, pulling him closer, despite her injuries and the fact that they were in a hospital room with the door wide open.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she rested her forehead against his.
"Never again," he said. "Never again do I leave you alone. I don't care if family or police or an entire army surrounds us. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"That might get awkward."
"I don't care."
"Even in the bathroom?"
"Especially in the bathroom. Those are prime kidnapping locations."
She laughed again, and the sound loosened something in his chest that had been locked tight for hours.
Familiar voices echoed in the hallway, growing louder and louder.
Michael Tate entered first, his face flooding with relief when he saw his daughter, followed by Walter and Brea, then Riley,Ashley, and Hasley. Bryson was the last to stroll across the threshold.
"Emery." Michael pushed past everyone else and pulled her into a careful hug. "Thank God you're okay."
"I'm fine, Dad. Really."
"Don't ever do that to me again." His voice was rough with emotion. "My heart can't take it." He pulled back, cupping her face, and kissing her temple.
"I'll do my best to avoid getting kidnapped in the future."
Brea wiped a tear before pulling Emery into a warm embrace. "We were so worried. We thought?—"
"I know. I'm sorry,” Emery said.
