“Would you promise that you wouldn’t step in front of a bullet for me?”
His jaw clenched.
“Exactly.” She swiped her thumb over his cheek. “I’ll promise you something else. That I’ll love you forever.”
It wasn’t the promise he’d been looking for. But fuck, it felt good anyway. “Forever’s a hell of a long time.”
“Thank God.”
He lowered his head and kissed her. A gentle kiss. Only stopping when the door opened and Indie, Colt, Noah, and Addie stepped in.
Bonnie strokedthe back of Zane’s head.
Finally, he was sleeping. Although, she wasn’t sure how long he’d been out. She’d just woken to find his head on the bed beside her.
No matter how much she pushed, no matter how muchanyonepushed, he refused to leave her side. A part of her loved that. She wanted him in arm’s reach at all times. But she also knew he needed rest.
God, she loved him. Seeing that gun aimed at him…
Her heart stuttered, the fear still alive inside her, as if she were back in that basement. It would take a long time to recover. Or maybe she never would. Maybe the memory would live inside her forever, coming back to her in quiet moments, reminding her that Zane wasn’t bulletproof.
She turned her head toward the window. Even though the curtains were closed, sun slipped through the gaps. It was morning. Good. The day from hell was over. It was in the past and she’d never need to live through it again.
Right now, her biggest problem was that she needed to pee.
Slowly, she slipped out from beneath the sheets, testing one foot then the other. Steady enough. And her IV pole could double as her walking stick. Win-win.
Zane didn’t move as she stepped away from the bed.Thatwas how tired he was.
He should have at least gone home for a bit of sleep. Noah would have stayed with her. But he’d refused. And sheknew why. He blamed himself. But that was stupid. Everything that had happened was Monty’s fault. And those other prison-escapee jerks.Theywere the ones who’d kidnapped them.Theywere the ones who’d tied them up and shot the bullet from the gun that had hit her. All the blame was squarely onthem.
In the bathroom, she peed and washed her hands before noticing her reflection in the mirror.
Argh. She was a mess. Her unbrushed hair stuck up in every possible direction, she was as pale as a piece of paper, and there were scrapes and bruises everywhere.
She tugged down the shoulder of her hospital gown to look at the bandage. She couldn’t even remember the pain of the bullet hitting her. Maybe her body had gone into shock. It hadn’t hurt then, and it didn’t hurt now—thank you, medication.
With a sigh, she turned and stepped back into the hospital room…only to stop at the sight of the woman in the doorway. “Maisie.”
The other woman spun toward Bonnie. She stood just inside the room, her hand still on the doorknob. “Bonnie. Hi.”
Slowly—well, as fast as she could—she crossed over to her former best friend. “What are you doing here?”
“I, um, heard around town what happened. Word travels fast in Amber Ridge. I just wanted to check that you were okay and…” She lifted a bouquet of flowers. “I know this isn’t much, but I couldn’t come empty-handed.”
“You brought me flowers?”
Maisie shuffled from foot to foot. “I was worried. We used to be friends. Good friends. And having you back here has reminded me of that. I know coming home hasn’t been easy for you—”
“No. It hasn’t. And you’ve done nothing to help that.”
Maisie’s eyes widened with what looked like authentic confusion. “What did you expect me to do?”
Was that a serious question? “The Whites hate me because they think I left Dean at that party while he was drunk, for no reason. You could tell them therewasa reason.”
She stepped back, face paling. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why? It doesn’t mean his death is your fault. It’s neither of our faults. But it tells his parents that I wasn’t selfish that night, stranding him there just because I’m heartless.”
