I don’t know how to fix it for her, so I settle for covering her hand with mine. “You want to talk about what happened, or just sit quiet a while?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at her reflection in the window and shakes her head, then nods, then shakes again like she’s arguing with herself.
“I’m a coward,” Emma says finally. “I thought after everything, after the therapy and the healing, I wouldn’t fall apart like that. But I did.”
“That’s not cowardice. That’s trauma.” I keep my voice even, drive one-handed so she knows it’s not just words. “You saw the man who kidnapped you. Your body did exactly what it was supposed to do—get you somewhere safe. That’s not weakness. That’s survival.”
She looks at me, her mouth set in a line. “No. I survived because of you. I’ve always survived because you keep swooping in and fixing everything for me. I’m just . . . I feel like a liability.”
“You’re not a liability, swan,” I say, squeezing her hand so tight I’m surprised I don’t bruise bone. “You’re the reason I’m still here. You’re the only reason I give a damn about any of this.”
She lets out a sound somewhere between a scoff and a sob. “That’s not a healthy dynamic, Bones.”
“Don’t care.”
“You should. Unless you want to be stuck with my broken ass forever.”
“That’s been the plan since I was sixteen.”
That gets a ghost of a smile from her. “You never even liked me back then. You just felt sorry for me. I was such a pain in the ass no one wanted to deal with me.”
I shake my head, eyes still on the road. “I never felt sorry for you. I liked you so much it made me stupid. Only reason I didn’t do anything about it is because Stone would’ve kicked my ass for it.”
She laughs lightly. “God. Can you imagine? He reacted so poorly to us as adults. Imagine how he would have reacted if we’d done anything as kids.”
“He’d have pulled you out of the dance academy and locked you in a tower.” I laugh. “But I would have visited. Smuggled in energy drinks and sugar cubes, since I know you run on those. We could have made it work.”
She leans her head back, eyes closed, but her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile. “I never knew what to do with you—at first, anyway. You were just this weird, scrawny kid with long eyelashes and no sense of self-preservation. I thought you’d get yourself killed before you turned eighteen.”
“Not dead yet,” I say, sparing a glance at her. There’s color creeping back into her cheeks, the stress of today fading at least a little. “And I have a lot of self-preservation now. It’s all reserved for you.”
24
BONES
At the clubhouse, most of the brothers are already back from the town meeting, bikes parked in their usual arrangement. Through the windows I can see people moving around.
I get out and walk around to Emma’s side, opening the door and scooping her up again before she can even try to get out on her own.
“I don’t want to talk about it with everyone,” she says quietly as I carry her toward the entrance. “Not yet. I just want to sleep and pretend this didn’t happen.”
“Then that’s what you’ll do.” I push open the door with my shoulder and immediately Maggie appears, taking one look at Emma’s face and understanding without words.
“Guest suite?” she asks.
“Yeah. She needs ice, elevation, and probably some pain meds.”
“I’ll bring them up.” Maggie hurries ahead to open doors. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you settled.”
I carry Emma up the stairs, Maggie leading the way. I set Emma gently on the couch and she immediately tries to adjust herself, wincing as she moves her ankle.
“Let me get the bath running,” Maggie says, already heading into the bathroom. “She’s got half the forest on her.”
“I can shower,” Emma protests weakly.
“You can barely stand,” I say. “Bath is safer. I’ll help you.”
She doesn’t argue, which tells me how exhausted she really is.
