Chapter 38
When Freya and I arrived at the hospital, they separated us. I tried to follow and insisted I could wait because I could, goddamn it; these people have no clue what a SEAL can walk through. If the bullet was going to kill me, it would have by the time I arrived.
They didn’t see things that way.
There isn’t a man alive who could watch his partner and unborn baby wheeled away after something like that and stay calm. But I forced myself to remember she was in the right hands. Safer here than she’d been in hours.
Because it’s a small hospital, I get an X-ray within minutes, and an ER doctor removes the bullet. Thankfully, it was a clean and superficial entry, but I knew that by how I was able to move through it.
Now, I have a blood pressure cuff around my arm, my pants off, a sterile drape over my thigh, and a nurse telling me to hold still unless I want to be stitched up twice.
My pulse won’t settle. Every part of this place reminds me how fast a life can turn—beeping monitors, white walls, the sting of disinfectant that clings to the back of my throat. This is the room people wait in when the world is about to tilt, and all I can think is that she’s in one just like it.
Alone.
Trying to be calm for our baby without anyone taking care of her.
Freya reassured me the whole way in the ambulance that she thought she was okay. But she would say that. Even on that cliff edge, hanging on by the tips of her boots and a piece of plastic, she kept telling me things would be okay.
I can still feel the ambulance sway under us, still hear the hiss of oxygen and the low murmur of paramedics radioing updates. And she held my hand with so much strength in her palm.
She is already the fiercest mom in the world.
But I’m going to spend a lot of time helping her see my shoulders are broad enough for both of us.
I stare at the pale blue pattern on the curtained wall in the ER and have to laugh to myself. She might be over there thinking the same thing about me. For how different we are, we share some things, too, and showing ourselves as a fortress is one of them.
I need to get back to her.
I keep my eyes on the cheap fabric surrounding me—a material that never softens and looks faded before it’s even washed. I never hated four curtain walls more in my life.
“Are we almost done here?” I ask, trying not to sound as annoyed as I feel.
After all, I do want to use this leg in the future.
The nurse glances up with an arched eyebrow. “One minute further along than when you asked sixty seconds ago.”
“Sorry,” I say, gruffly, “My girlfriend…and my baby…”
Thankfully, because it’s a small hospital, the nurse knows about Freya, too, and takes pity on me.
She gazes at me kindly. “If there was bad news, they’d have been in here to tell you.”
She goes back to her embroidery project on my thigh. My skin stings under the flicker of her needle.
“Lucky,” she mutters, “low body fat, dense muscle, oblique angle. You’d be dead if it got to your femoral artery.”
She says it like it’s a casual observation—weather, baseball, shattered femur.
I grunt something noncommittal because none of this matters. Not compared to Freya.
Just then, Rio steps in, hair disheveled in a way I rarely see him. Cold air from the hallway drifts in behind him, brushing over my overheated skin in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.
He folds his arms across his chest and studies me.
“Any news on Freya?” I ask.
I need something.
“Yeah, I asked. She’s being monitored. As far as I know, all is normal. Lara has been in with her most of the time, so she’s not alone.”
Damn. I’ve got a lot of respect for these people. Freya’s best friend didn’t even blink before coming in here, and knowing she hasn’t been alone takes the edge off the panic chewing at me.
“The baby?”
“I think no news is good news at this point.”
The nurse glances up at Rio and is noticeably struck by his appearance, as many women are. They get scared off fast when they realize his insides match those tall, dark features.
She blushes without realizing it. “That’s what I told him.”
He nods at her, and she puts her eyes back on my leg, cheeks still pink.
“You have any other intel for me?” I pick up the tiny cardboard cup of water they gave me to sip and take one. The water is lukewarm, metallic from the tap, nothing refreshing about it, but it clears the tightness in my throat.
“Yeah. You want the good news or the bad news first?”
“Good.”
He lets out a one-syllable laugh. “Funny, most people start with bad.”
I crush the cup in my hand and place it back on the table beside me. “Yeah, well, I’m trying to tap into my optimistic side. I think it will be good for our little girl. Growth mindset or something like that.”
He smirks. “Good news is that Mike confessed. He admitted to murdering twelve women.”
Jesus. Twelve women.
Rio’s eyes cut away for a beat, tension pulling through him like a wire.
“Mariana?” I hope she was one of the names.
Rio nods solemnly.
I hope this brings him some peace at last. Rio didn’t drive her off that cliff; a madman did.
He clears his throat of the memory. “Freya kicked ass on this one. Out of respect, we told her about the confession first.”
Freya deserves this. She went against the grain, stood up to an established police officer, as well as the chief of police, and fought to make sure things were right.
They aren’t right. That would be the wrong word to use for something as heinous as a crime like this, but justice will be served.
I’m damn proud of her.
“Any news on Justin Ingram’s involvement?”
“He was found at SFO. He sent his kids and wife off on that Florida trip, but stayed back himself. He had a ticket to Mexico in his hand. Guess he was planning to flee but decided not to.” Rio huffs. “Blood is thicker than water.”
“He knew about all of this?” How could he hide this, even for his brother?
Ingram has his own daughter. Mine isn’t even born yet but I can’t imagine covering for a man who clearly hates women.
Rio continues. “Justin’s in custody now. Callum asked if Freya would like to question him this afternoon, and she said if she’s out, yes.”
Fuck. She doesn’t need that stress.
But she does deserve the satisfaction of hearing it all for herself.
I can’t help but wonder why Mike came back to Echo Valley at all.
“Why did he come back for Zoe here?”
Rio’s jaw clenches. “Serial offenders escalate. The more they get away with, the bigger the risk they chase. And they often circle back to their original ground. Mike would have known Zoe when she was a kid. Enzo and Ava found a post put up by an avatar they believe was Zoe. It was an appeal for funds for her flower shop on a community-driven forum. Mike confirmed that in his confession.”
He lets the rest fall away into whatever dark place it belongs.
Rio rubs a hand over his jaw, the gesture of a man carrying more than he’ll ever say aloud.
Such a young spirit dying before her time is something neither of us wants to discuss for longer than we need to.
And even though he’s now freed from his guilt over Mariana, I’m sure he’s now blaming himself for her taking Mike’s money.
I change the subject, though I’m not sure it will get any better. “You gave me the good news. What’s the bad news?”
Rio stares at me with features carved of steel. “Neither of us got to kill Mike today.”
The nurse draws in a sharp breath, probably happy to finish stitching me up and able to get away from our morally gray conversation.
“You’ll be sore. A lot.” She takes off her gloves. “Try not to overdo it.”
I let out a humorless breath. “Define overdo.”
She gives me a tight, unimpressed look that says she knows exactly the type of man she’s talking to. “How about starting with not standing up too fast?”
She pulls her lips into a thin smile, stands, and slips out past Rio like she wants to be close, but worries that bumping into him might make her spontaneously combust. The curtain whispers shut behind her, leaving the hum of fluorescent lights in her place.
I need to get dressed and get out of here, but all I’ve got are my bloody pants to put back on. Some way to see the mother of my child and reassure her.
Rio reaches behind the curtain and throws me a backpack. “Here. G said there are some sweatpants in there for you.”
I open the backpack. “That man takes preparedness to the next level.”
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck.
I find fresh sweatpants and slide one leg in, then carefully lift my wounded one, which is already blooming purple around the large wound dressing, and it’s stiff as a motherfucker with swelling.
Smallest price to pay. I would have given a hell of a lot more to ensure Freya’s safety.
God, I need to get over there and see how the baby is.
Rio grabs my boots from the bottom of the bed and puts them next to me and waits to check that I can put them on though he offers no help as he knows I wouldn’t take it.
I tie the last knot in my boot and push myself upright, my leg screaming under the weight. This is going to hurt like a bitch when the adrenaline wears off later.
Doesn’t matter. I’d drag myself across this floor with my teeth if I have to.
Rio watches me. “You need anything else?
“Yeah.” I stand. “To get to Freya.”
He nods once, understanding written in the tight line of his jaw.
I grip the edge of the curtain, shove it aside, and limp into the hallway.
I follow the path of fluorescent lights, hunting for the room that holds my whole damn world.
The distance between us feels like a threat all on its own.
I need eyes on them.
I need proof they’re still safe.