He could see her there. On the ground. It gripped him, all that fear sweeping through him again even as she moved across the room to hover over his bed, cleaned up, bandaged up and okay.
He’d been so sure he’d tell her to go away. To give him space. He couldn’t get the words out, because just looking at her made everything okay.
“Hi,” she said. Her green eyes were shiny with tears.
“Hi,” he managed, wanting to take those tears away.
But she smiled. It wobbled, but it was a smile. “I… I don’t know how much Brooke told you, but Holand made it through surgery. She’s going to go away for a very long time. The Feds still won’t give a lot of details, but basically this woman has been a kind of informant of sorts, using her inside FBI knowledge to work for hire. The group that kidnapped Albennie hired Holand to find her, thenshehired the kidnapper. I haven’t talked toMr. Simmons yet—he’ll probably have more information—but it seems like everyone involved at every step is now in jail.”
Royal didn’t really understand the words—he’d blame all the drugs in his system for now, but she just kept talking, standing there, hands clasped. Nervous and upset.
He’d been so sure this was it. He’d put a wall up. Look what had happened to her in just a few days of being involved with him? He was bad luck. A harbinger.
But she just babbled on about everything that had happened. How many stitches she’d gotten, how many times Rosalie had thrown up in the waiting room. Such silly little details and he just…couldn’t stand the thought of suddenly not having Franny in his life.
He didn’t want to be bad luck anymore.
He wanted…a future. To be the brave and the good she saw. Wasn’t that why he’d become a cop? Wasn’t that why he’d stayed here in Bent County? A future meant believing he deserved one. He didn’t deserve her.
But he’d work at it.
She sat abruptly in the chair Brooke had vacated, looked pained. “I’m probably giving you a headache.”
But she wasn’t. “I like hearing your voice.”
Her mouth curved and she leaned forward, touching a spot on his forehead. “I like seeing your eyes open.”
For a few quiet moments, they just stared at each other, maybe reassuring themselves the other was all right.
“When I’m on my own two feet again. And you don’t have that bandage on your head. We’re going to go out.”
She blinked once. “Out?”
“To dinner. A movie. Whatever. A date.” He tried to move, winced when it hurt. “Like normal people.”
“A date?” she repeated.
“Yes,” he said firmly.
“Oh. Well, okay.”
“You want to, don’t you?” he demanded.
She was looking at him with serious green eyes. “Yes. Though I don’t know how normal I can be. But I can try.”
He laughed. It hurt. But somehow that was…just right now too. “Well, okay then. That’s what we’ll do. But don’t try to be normal. Just be you.”
“I think that’s a compliment,” she grumbled. “Are you sure you’re not delusional?” she asked, leaning forward. “Hyped up on pain killers and anesthesia. You might change your mind.”
He stared at her. After everything, all this, his whole damn life, she still made him smile. “I’m sure. I won’t. I like having you in my life, Franny.”
She swallowed hard. “You’re a real hero, Royal.”
Well, it wasn’t going to be easy. He shifted, winced at the pain. “I don’t know about all that.”
“I do. That Holand woman… She said heroes are fictional. But she’s wrong. Maybe heroes aren’t all perfectly good, but thereareheroes.” Her eyes filled with tears again, but they still didn’t fall. “People who do the right thing in the face of bad things, hard things. That’s you.”
He didn’t want to believe it, but Brooke had said it. Franny had said it. How could he argue with two of the best, strongest women he knew?
