Then Ruger's hand lands on my shoulder.
"It's done, brother." His voice is steady, an anchor in the storm. "He's gone."
I stare at the body.
At the thing that used to be Virgil.
He looks smaller in death, diminished, like the monster under the bed revealed to be nothing but shadows and dust.
"I was supposed to protect her." The words come out broken. Fractured. Like glass grinding against glass. "That's my job. That's all I had to do, Ruger. Protect my wife. Protect my baby. And I failed."
"No." Ruger steps in front of me, forcing me to meet his eyes. His face is hard, certain. "You didn't fail."
"She was right here." My voice cracks, and I feel tears burning behind my eyes—tears I haven't let myself shed since this nightmare started. "While I was riding to that fucking motel, she was here. He had her for hours. Hours. And I didn't know. I couldn't feel it. What kind of husband doesn't know when his wife is?—"
I can't finish the sentence. Can't say the word.
"She's alive." Ruger grabs my shoulders, shaking me slightly. "Vanna is alive. The baby is alive. You got here in time. You saved them."
"You didn't see what he did?—"
"She'll heal." His grip tightens. "She's the strongest woman I've ever met, and that includes Tildie. You know that. You've watched her claw her way back from hell more than once. She'll do it again. And she won't be doing it alone."
I want to believe him.
I want to believe that this can be fixed. That the woman I love can recover from this.
That we can go back to building the life we were planning—the baby, the future, the happily ever after Vanna talked about surviving for.
But I can't stop seeing her on that mattress.
Can't stop seeing the bruises, the blood, the torn clothes.
Can't stop imagining what happened in this room while I was miles away, useless, chasing shadows.
"Hey." Ruger shakes me again, harder. "Look at me, Garrett. Look at me."
I force myself to focus on his face.
On the brother who's stood beside me through everything.
"This part is over," he says. "Virgil is dead. He can't hurt her anymore. He can't hurt anyone anymore. Now you go to your wife, and you hold her, and you tell her it's over. You be there for her. That's how you protect her now."
"I don't know if I can fix this."
"You don't have to fix it alone." Coin's voice, quiet and steady, from somewhere behind me. "She's got you. She's got the club. She's got Leah, Tildie, all of us. We take care of our own, brother. That's what we do."
I take a breath.
It shudders through my chest, painful and raw.
Then another.
Then another.
My hands are still shaking, but the tremors are starting to fade.
The tears I refused to shed are drying in my eyes.
