"Hey," he said softly, moving to sit carefully on the edge of her bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck," she replied, her voice hoarse from the combination of drugs and emotional trauma. "But alive, thanks to you."
He reached out to frame her face with his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that continued to fall. "You're not alone, Willow. You're never going to be alone again if I have anything to say about it."
She leaned into his touch with the trust of someone who had been pulled back from the edge of a nightmare. "I was so scared. Not just of Doug, but of what would happen if you couldn't find me. Of never seeing you again."
"I found you," he said simply. "I'll always find you."
The moment was interrupted by the arrival of Todd, Frazier, and Cole, who knocked softly before entering with the kind of careful respect that spoke to their understanding of what Willow had endured.
"How's our badass doing?" Todd asked, with a grin meant to lighten the mood.
Willow managed a weak laugh, gesturing toward her bandaged ankles and the various monitors attached to her arms. "I'm a pretty busted-up badass at the moment."
"The best kind," Frazier said firmly. "You fought back when it mattered most. That scratch you gave Doug? That's how we confirmed his identity and connected him to the surveillance photos."
"What happened after the ambulance took me away?" Willow asked, her curiosity overriding her exhaustion.
Cole consulted his notes from the debriefing session with local law enforcement. "Doug was arrested and charged with kidnapping, assault, stalking, and about six other felonies. He's being held without bail, and apparently, he's been talking nonstop to the detectives about how Rose needed him and was his one true love."
"He kept calling me Rose," Willow said quietly, shuddering at the memory. "Even when I was fighting him, he couldn't see meas Willow. I was just his fantasy version of a character I played fifteen years ago.
"I had no idea he'd maintained any kind of romantic delusion about our professional relationship," she continued, her voice growing stronger with indignation. "We were never more than friends and colleagues. I thought his protectiveness was just leftover brother instincts from playing siblings on television."
Todd shook his head with disgust. "Classic obsessive behavior. He constructed an entire relationship in his mind based on scripted interactions and professional courtesy. The move to Denver, the coordinated stalking campaign—he'd been planning this for months, maybe years."
After another twenty minutes of gentle conversation and updates about the investigation, the three Keepers prepared to leave for their flight back to Montana. Waving away her thanks, they each hugged Willow carefully, mindful of her injuries, before heading toward the door.
"Casper, can we talk in the hall for a minute?" Todd asked.
In the corridor outside Willow's room, the three men formed a tight circle that excluded the medical staff and law enforcement personnel moving through the area.
"She can't walk for at least a month," Frazier said without preamble. "Bilateral ankle sprains, possible fractures that won't show up on X-rays for a few days. Her little house in Nebraska isn't going to work for someone who needs wheelchair accessibility."
Casper had been thinking the same thing since the doctor's diagnosis, his tactical mind already working through the logistics of caring for someone with limited mobility in a rural location without adequate medical support.
"Don't worry," Todd said, reading his expression. "We're already on it. Logan and the others are making arrangements.”
"She hasn't agreed to accept help from me," Casper pointed out.
"Then you'd better ask her," Cole said with a knowing smile. "But from what I've seen, that woman has already given her heart to you."
They exchanged handshakes and the kind of brief, fierce embraces that spoke to shared danger and mutual respect. As his fellow Keepers departed for the airport, Casper felt the weight of the past weeks finally beginning to lift from his shoulders.
When he returned to Willow's room, she was fighting to stay awake despite the pain medications that were making her eyelids heavy. He carefully settled beside her on the narrow hospital bed, wrapping his arms around her with the gentle strength that promised protection without restraint.
"Sleep," he murmured against her hair. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
As she drifted off against his chest, Casper allowed himself to believe that they had finally reached the end of their nightmare and the beginning of whatever came next. Tomorrow would bring conversations about the future and the slow process of healing from trauma that had tested them both.
But tonight, holding the woman he loved in the safety of his arms, he was content to simply breathe and be grateful that they had both survived to see another day.
39
The three days Willow spent in the hospital felt like an eternity suspended between relief and uncertainty. Her body was a catalog of injuries that served as painful reminders of Doug's violence. Two moderately sprained ankles that throbbed with every slight movement, deep purple contusions covering her arms and legs where he'd dragged her across rough surfaces, and they’d fallen down the concrete stairs. A persistent headache from the concussion made bright lights feel like daggers behind her eyes.
The medical staff drew blood every twelve hours to monitor the Rohypnol levels in her system, watching as the drug slowly worked its way out of her body. Each test showed improvement, but the lingering effects left her feeling disconnected and foggy, as though her thoughts were wrapped in cotton batting, making everything seem slightly unreal.
