Page 122 of Late Harvest

She knew what happened medically, of course. Sensed her rapid decompensation into PTSD. One minute, she and Sebastian were chatting in the backseat of the town car, him teasing her that Chicane would be happier to see him. The next, a crushing blow, her breath stolen, as she’d read the words aggressively sprayed on her home. The only home she’d ever owned. The only place she’d ever been completely comfortable. Safe.

Even at the Remingtons’ modest home, there was always the specter of her mother’s rundown section eight apartment looming. Then Doug’s home, the hub of so much pain and fear.

Remy shivered, a tiny sob escaping lips that were thankfully no longer numb. In fact, the overall shock had finally abated, leaving in its wake a riot of painful emotions surging in a way she hadn’t felt since⁠—

“Arabella?”

Sebastian’s tender voice, so rich and beautifully modulated, washed over her. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye down her temple. Then another.

“Angel, can you open your eyes for me?” She could hear the terror leaching into his words.

Remy opened her eyes, immediately landing on Sebastian’s. “Hi,” she croaked out. Clearing her voice, she tried again. “Sebastian. I—I’m better. Promise.” Remy forced herself to produce a small smile, squeezing his hand.

“Oh, thank God.” Sebastian’s eyes dropped closed for a long moment, chin tucking as his body curled forward in relief. “Thank fucking God,” he whispered, now scanning her. “I’m so sorry, Angel. So sorry.”

“You didn’t do it⁠—”

“Bash, give me a minute to check her vitals, ok? Then we can all talk.” Brinder’s faded British accent reappeared in full force, something Arabella knew happened when her boss’s emotions were heightened. Easing Remy into a seated position, Brinder efficiently took her blood pressure, checked the pulse oximeter, and then listened to her heart. He nodded, his face conveying all was well. “You gave us quite a scare, Remy.”

“I know. I⁠—”

“No explanations needed.” Brinder smiled warmly, turning his head at a din of voices coming from down the hall.

Now Sebastian broke into a smile as well, sitting lighter, his shoulders not hunched with the weight of worry. “The cavalry has arrived.”

“Who?” Arabella offered quietly, still working to ensure steady breath in and out of her lungs.

“We couldn’t keep them away. Your red wine posse. Lila apparently lit the bat-wine signal.” Sebatian’s gaze was tender but his lips lifted in the corners in obvious amusement. “Grayton groused and did his Army Ranger thing, but Lila wouldn’t take no for an answer. She may look like a bubbly cheerleader, but that woman is a force to be reckoned with. You up to visitors?” His smile turned a little sheepish, but so endearing. “I hope so, because I’m kind of afraid to tell them no.”

Suddenly, Remy no longer wanted to be in bed. She loathed feeling like an invalid. Or, worse, weak. Because weak women often became prey.

She should know.

“I’m getting up.” It wasn’t a request.

Remy shifted, swinging her legs to the side.

Alarm evident, Sebastian reached for her. “Arabella⁠—”

“Remy.” Brinder cut him off, using a firm, calm tone she knew from personal experience was very effective at work. “Go slow. If you can stand without feeling dizzy, you may go gently into the other room—assisted. Where you will sit”—he raised his brows—“and continue your recovery. Understood?”

Arabella raised her chin a fraction of an inch, her eyes narrowing. That was the moment she knew she was just fine. She wanted to pummel her boss.

Even more so…she was grateful. Two months ago, she’d been largely alone. Now? She had a fiancé who doted on her—even if that relationship had an unknown, but inevitable expiration date on it. Which she refused to think about. A boss who’d somehow morphed into a friend. And a group of women who clearly cared enough to bully their way into Brinder’s condo.

A rush of tears filled her eyes, and Remy blinked to keep them at bay. She nodded at Brinder, who stepped back. As soon as he moved, Sebastian slid in next to her, practically shoving his sister’s husband out of the way. Brinder—who topped Sebastian by at least four inches—stumbled back, jaw dropping comically.

“Never get between my queen and me,” Sebastian announced, taking her elbow with a wink. Behind Brinder, Honor slapped a hand over her laugh, while Brinder just shook his head, chuckling. It was a moment of levity they all desperately needed.

Remy shuffled down the hall, arm tucked in Sebastian’s, with Brinder in the lead, periodically looking over his shoulder. Remy was surprised he didn’t walk backwards like a tour guide, just to keep tabs on her status. In the past, she’d likely have been pissed off by it, but now, it was surprisingly touching. She was carefully, slowly learning the lesson that it was safe to make yourself vulnerable to the right people.

As soon as she emerged into the spacious room, her friends descended on her. Remy was wrapped in one tangled group hug and then individual ones, with Lila going last. The normally gregarious blonde held on tight, whispering, “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s ok. How’s Truly?”

“Back at her house. She has her best friend with her.”

“Good.” Remy nodded.