She continues, but it isn’t steady anymore. It’s breaking apart as she speaks.
“I didn’t understand it. It was so fast. I was on my knees—your blood was everywhere, Trey. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I just kept staring at where you were.”
Her voice shakes harder.
My jaw clenches so hard it aches.
She swallows.
“And then your father came.”
Something cold spreads through my ribs.
“He helped me up,” she whispers. “He told me we had to leave. That everything would be okay.”
She pauses.
“When we got outside… there were sirens. Lights everywhere. Medics were shouting. They were rushing you into the ambulance.”
Her fingers tighten on me.
“I told the dogs to get in the SUV,” she says. “I followed. And he… he apologized.”
Her hand drifts to her throat without her noticing.
My body goes still.
“I didn’t feel anything after that,” she whispers. “Just a sharp pinch. And everything faded.”
She presses into my chest like she’s trying to disappear inside it.
“Before I went under,” she breathes, barely audible, “he told me his name. He said you couldn’t protect me.”
Rage detonates behind my ribs.
But I don’t let it reach her.
I kiss her hair instead.
“You’re safe now,” I murmur.
But her eyes don’t settle.
Not fully.
“What about Gideon?” I ask quietly, voice already turning darker. “Did he—”
“No,” she cuts in fast.
Too fast.
Like saying it out loud makes it real.
“But he wanted to.”
My grip tightens slightly at her waist.
Her fingers tremble against my chest.
