Tears roll down my cheeks when a distant sound has my ears perking.
It’s a siren.
A police siren.
West.
I push up with every last ounce of strength I have left and run.
The sound is getting closer, and I can feel it. Safety.
I round a bend and there, through the trees, I see the flashing lights of a police car.
West is here.
I stop running and weep.
It’s over. It’s finally over. I’m safe.
The cruiser barrels around the corner, slamming on its breaks when the driver spots me.
The door flies open, and my heart soars at seeing West again. He runs to me, and I leap into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”
“West,” I croak out.
“I know baby, I know. I’m here, and I’m never letting you go.”
Behind him, more cars come to a screeching halt, along with an ambulance.
True to his word, West doesn’t let go of me.
Not when the paramedics examine me.
Not when Cade gets my statement.
Not the entire ride to the hospital.
After I’m looked over and hooked up to an IV, Sarah and Wren are allowed into the room, and all embracing into a giant hug, we cry.
“I’m so glad to see you, Jade.” Sarah weeps, crawling up onto the bed.
“Watch her IV, Sarah,” West growls. He’s been so protective of me since we arrived.
“Relax, Sheriff, we got our girl back.”
Later that night, I’m released and allowed to go home with West.
“Let’s go get you cleaned up. I’ll start a bath for you,” he says as we make our way up the stairs. Halfway up, I have to stop. My legs are still weak, and I’ve got a major headache.
Wrapping his arms around me, he hauls me into his arms and carries me the rest of the way.
Sinking down into the warmth of the water, my bones cry at the relief. West helps me wash my body and hair, and all I can do is stare out the window, too afraid to blink and find that this is a dream.
Tucking me under the covers, West kisses the top of my head and tells me to get some sleep. I’m not sure what time it is when I feel him crawl in next to me, but his whispered words have me crying into the night.
“I thought I lost you.” He cries into my neck.
