“The bleeding has slowed, and he’s upright and talking. It’s not good, but I don’t think it’s fatal. It was in his shoulder,” Faith offers, and I blink rapidly at the sudden rush of water against my eyelids.
“Go home, Valentina,” Mateo states, his tone leaving no room for argument. I look down at my hands again, the blood beginning to dry in the oppressive Texas heat, but I nod.
“I’ll drive her.” Faith stands, extending her hand out to me. I stare at it and then down at my own. She wiggles her fingers, and I bite my lip as I take her waiting grip.
“What? No—” The blonde woman takes a step down the stairs toward us, and Faith turns on her. I don’t see her expression, but I hear the iron in her voice, and not for the first time, I admire this unsuspecting woman.
“I love you guys, but you don’t need me right now. She does, and I go where I’m needed.” No one fights her as she helps me fully up, her grip never wavering from my blood-coated one as she walks me around to the passenger side door of my car.
She opens it, but before I can slide in, she pulls a jacket from my back seat and spreads it over the leather of my passenger side. A fresh wave of tears fills my eyes, and this time, I can’t fight them off.
We climb in, and I watch the taillights of Gus’ truck fade into the horizon as he races to meet the ambulance.
McCrae has to be okay.
***
“Can I make you anything while you shower?” Faith strides into the kitchen like she’s done it a million times, and I stare after her. I don’t feel at home here—I don’t think I ever will—but Faith seems at home wherever she goes, and I envy that about her.
She’s unassuming but so confident in herself—in her safety—that she’s always at peace,at home.
“You can go.” I don’t have it in me to fight anymore. I just want to shower off the evidence of this horrible day, crawl into bed, and hopefully never wake. Or rather, wait to hear that McCrae’s okay and then never wake up.
“I’m good.”
I grind my teeth, the overwhelming urge to tell her to get the fuck out of my house sitting like poison on my tongue.
“I didn’t ask,” I bite out.
“You don’t have to.” Faith comes around the corner once more, her shoes off, a towel slung over her shoulder like she’s been here all along. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Why? Because you think I’ll go back over there and finish what I started?”
She rolls her eyes.She actually fucking rolls her eyes at me, and I hate that it makes a spark of admiration light in my chest.
“No. You were never going to ‘finish’—” she adds air quotes around the word finish, “anything. I’m not leaving you alone because someone tried to kill you tonight, and no one should have to be alone after that.”
I blink, the fact that someone tried to kill me all but forgotten until this moment.
“You believe me that I didn’t shoot McCrae?”
Her face twists, and she leans against the door frame. “Yes. I’m not dumb. The shot came from the back, which would have been impossible for you.” She pauses, her gaze scrutinizing but kind. “You sure you didn’t see who it was?”
“No,” I bite out, tired of defending myself.
She nods, accepting it. “I know you’d never hurt McCrae. He’ll be okay, Valentina.” She pats my arm.
I open my mouth, but no words come out. She seems so sure, so certain.
“Because you know me so fucking well?” I hiss, stepping toward her. I don’t like anyone knowing anything about me, certainly not the one thing I secretly consider my weakness.Because Reyeses don’t have weakness.
Her eyes narrow, like an annoyed mother talking to a toddler. “No, because he keeps you safe, and I know that’s ultimately what you want. You’d never risk him.”
She doesn’t say more, and she doesn’t have to. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s not wrong either.
“He should have let them shoot me.” I deflate, staring down at my hands again.
“And what good would that have done anyone?” There’s anger in her voice I don’t understand.
