He smiled softly, but it fell quickly, like it was too heavy to hold. “But then we got separated.”
“They had no choice but to investigate. But even they agreed that you killing our foster dad was self-defense. I would’ve died if you hadn’t done that.”
Blake’s jaw worked like he was chewing on old guilt. “It never should have happened.”
I studied him, noticing the fresh concern pulsing through his features. “Are you bringing all this up because you’re trying to figure out if watching you bash someone’s head in turned me into a monster?”
His head snapped back. “What? No.”
“It’s understandable.” I kept my voice level even though my insides were churning. “I watched you do what you had to do to save my life. Now, you’re wondering if that moment shaped something in me that led to tonight.”
“Faith, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Blake scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m sorry your past has been so painful. But you’re not alone anymore. No matter what happens with this—even if the worst-case scenario becomes reality—you’re not alone.”
My throat tightened. “Even if I killed someone?”
“Even then.” His voice was steady, certain. “If you did, it had to be self-defense.”
“What if it wasn’t?”
“I’d still love you. Because loving someone means accepting the whole person, Faith. Including the scary parts. Including the parts that might have made terrible mistakes.”
I wanted to believe him. Hell, I bet Blake believed himself, but it was easy to say you’d never turn your back on someone when you didn’t know what they did.
As if sensing my skepticism, my brother continued, “Knox is in prison for murder, and we still love him. We visit him, we support him, we’re his family. Family doesn’t just disappear when things get dark.”
Knox. Right. The mysterious fifth member of their brotherhood. I had so many questions about him, the one Ryker visited frequently to help prep for his next parole hearing. What had Knox done? What was his story?
Whatever it was, Ryker spoke about Knox with fierce loyalty, with love. So, I couldn’t imagine he was some serial killer or something.
Regardless, maybe there was hope for me too?
“I hope he’s alive,” I said quietly.I hope the man in the woods is alive, and I also hope my own innocence is still breathing.
Three sharp knocks preceded the door opening, and my entire body went on high alert.
Ryker entered the room slowly and shut the door behind him with deliberate softness, as if trying not to spook me.
I hadn’t noticed what he was wearing before, but now, I took him in. He looked morefierce bodyguardthanlawyer. Jeans that hugged his thick thighs, a black T-shirt that stretched across his muscular torso, and tattoos lacing up his arms, disappearing beneath the fabric. A dark, weathered jacket—built for function over fashion—hung over one shoulder by his finger. He tossed it onto the chair without looking, like warmth stopped mattering once he found me.
Dark hair fell across his forehead, disheveled, like he’d been running his hands through it, and those sapphire eyes, usually sharp with calculation, were raw with something I couldn’t name.
The hospital lights caught the dark stubble on his face, making him look both beautiful and dangerous. I studied him like evidence, searching for clues in the set of his shoulders, the tension in his neck, trying to decode what he was about to tell me before the words left his mouth.
He stopped three feet from my bed, and for a heartbeat, we just existed in the same space—him standing there like he was holding himself back from coming closer, me frozen against the pillows. He looked … wrecked. Like being away from me had been agony.
“Hey, Warrior.”
Warrior.The first time he’d called me that, I’d laughed it off. But he’d caught my chin, made me look at him, his eyes serious as a heart attack.“You’ve been through hell and kept fighting. Not everyone would do that. Most people would’ve given up, but not you. You’re not just a survivor, Faith. You’re a warrior.”
And now, as I heard it again with everything around me in ruins, it landed like a lifeline. He was reminding me who I was. That I’d fought through worse. That I was built for battle, even when the enemy might be the law itself.
“How are you feeling?” His voice was carefully controlled.
“Fine. Did the police find him?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
Ryker exchanged a look with Blake. “They did.”
The room felt like it was tilting, spinning, falling away from under me.
