Chapter 12 #3
"I don't care if he sprouted wings and flew you here.
I don't want him anywhere near this family.
" Devon stepped closer to Ethan, rage making his hands shake.
"I knew about you and my sister two years ago.
I know you strung her along all summer and then vanished without a word.
I'll be damned if I'm going to stand here and watch you waltz back into her life and hurt her again. "
"That's not what's happening," Ethan said, his voice calm but firm. “I just wanted to make sure Ashley got to the hospital safely."
"We could hear her crying for weeks after you left," Bryson added from his chair, his voice quiet but cutting. “Family feud or not, that kind of shit isn’t going to help you get on our good side.”
Ethan looked at Ashley, something complicated passing between them. She gave a tiny nod, and he stepped back toward the door.
"Ashley," Devon said, his voice tight. “Your shirt is on inside out and backward.”
Ashley's face flushed crimson. She glanced down at the tag clearly visible at her neckline, then back up at Devon with her chin raised defiantly. "That has nothing to do with what happened to Emery."
"Doesn't it? You were supposed to be watching out for her. Instead, you were—"
"Careful," Ashley interrupted, her voice sharp now.
"Before you start judging my choices, remember that I've watched you date Callie Callaway.
Twice. And we could start in on the long list of girls who worked the gift shop and then quit because you broke their hearts.
So maybe we don't throw stones about poor dating decisions. "
"That's different—"
"It's really not." Ashley crossed her arms. "And for the record, I didn't let Emery walk home alone. She insisted. How was I supposed to know someone would—" Her voice broke.
The fight drained out of Devon. His sister looked wrecked—mascara smudged, shirt inside out, guilt and fear written across her face. This wasn't her fault. He knew that. But he’d needed someone to blame, and she was standing right there.
"I'm sorry," he said roughly. "I just—if anything had happened to her?”
"I know." Ashley's voice was small. “I would’ve never forgiven myself. I should've walked with her. I should've—"
Devon's phone buzzed. Gabe's name lit up the screen.
"Yeah," Devon answered.
"I heard what happened." Gabe's voice was tight with concern. "Is Emery okay?"
"Don't know yet. Still waiting to see her."
"Jesus. Do you need anything? Want me to come down there?"
"No. We're okay for now." Devon rubbed his free hand over his face. "But thanks."
"There's something else," Gabe said. "I spoke to my dad. About everything—the federal case, Emery's father, all of it. He wants to come talk to everyone in person. Tomorrow. Says there are things we need to know."
Devon's stomach dropped. "What kind of things?"
"He wouldn't say over the phone. But he sounded serious. Said he's coming whether I want him to or not, so we might as well make it official."
"Okay. Tomorrow. We'll set something up at the house."
"Devon?" Gabe's voice softened. "She's going to be okay. Emery's tough."
"Yeah." Devon's throat was tight. "Call you tomorrow."
He hung up and sank into the chair beside Bryson. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind exhaustion and bone-deep fear.
They sat in silence, Ashley collapsing into a chair across from them. The waiting room clock ticked loudly, each second stretching into eternity.
Finally, after what felt like hours, but was probably only fifteen more minutes, a doctor in blue scrubs pushed through the doors.
"Family for Emery Tate?"
Devon was on his feet before the doctor finished the sentence. "That's me. How is she?"
"She's fine. Banged up, definitely going to be sore for a few days, but fine.
" The doctor—Dr. Montgomery, according to her name tag—smiled reassuringly.
"The CT scan came back clear, no sign of head trauma beyond a mild concussion.
No broken bones, but she's going to have some impressive bruising on her left hip and shoulder.
We put eight stitches in a laceration on her forearm. "
"Can I see her?"
"Absolutely. She's asking for you, actually." The doctor gestured toward the doors. "Follow me."
Devon looked back at Bryson and Ashley. "I'll text you."
"Tell her we love her," Ashley said, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
The doctor led him through a maze of hallways to a room near the end. She pushed open the door, and Devon's breath caught.
Emery sat propped up on a hospital bed, wearing a gown that swallowed her small frame. A bandage wrapped around her left forearm, and an angry bruise was already blooming across her cheek. Her hair was tangled, and she looked pale and exhausted.
But she was alive. Conscious. Looking at him with those green eyes that made his chest ache.
"Hi," she said, her voice rough.
"Hey.” Devon crossed to her in three strides, his hands hovering over her like he was afraid she'd break if he touched her. "Are you—can I—"
"Yes." She reached for him with her good arm. "Please."
He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and gathered her against him as gently as he could manage. She buried her face in his chest, and he felt her shoulders shake with silent sobs.
"I've got you," he murmured into her hair. "You're okay. You're safe."
"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I should've been paying attention. I should've—"
"Don't. Don't apologize for something you had no control over." Devon pulled back enough to cup her face in his hands, careful of the bruise. "This wasn't your fault."
"Callie said—" Emery stopped herself, fresh tears spilling over.
"What did Callie say?"
"That you'd get bored with me. That I was just a distraction. Someone you felt sorry for." Her voice was barely a whisper. "That you'd leave when I stopped being broken enough to need saving."
Fury and heartbreak warred in Devon's chest. "Look at me."
She met his eyes, and the vulnerability in hers nearly undid him.
"I’m not going to get bored with you. You're not a distraction or a project or someone I'm trying to save.
" Devon's thumbs traced her cheekbones, wiping away tears.
"You're the woman I'm falling in love with.
The woman I want to wake up next to every morning.
The woman who's brave enough to stand up and fight when the whole world's trying to knock her down. "
"You're falling in love with me?" Her eyes grew wide, but if he wasn’t mistaken, her lips twitched into a tiny smile.
"Have been for months. Was too stubborn to admit it until you almost got—" He couldn't finish. Couldn't say the words.
"Killed," Emery finished quietly. "I almost got killed.”
"I know." He rested his forehead against hers, careful of her injuries. "And I swear to God, we're going to find out who is doing this. We're going to stop them. But right now, all I care about is that you're here. That you're okay."
"I'm scared."
"Me too."
They sat like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, breathing in sync. The hospital sounds faded into background noise—distant beeps and footsteps and overhead pages. All that existed was this room, this moment, this woman in his arms.
"Devon?" Her voice was small.
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm falling in love with you, too."
His breath caught. "Really?"
“I am.” She pulled back to look at him, a watery smile on her bruised face. "Even though you have terrible taste in past girlfriends and your mother is already planning our wedding and your sisters are exhausting."
"My sisters are definitely exhausting," he agreed, relief and joy flooding through him. "Anything else?"
"I’m starving."
“I’ll get a snack, but I’m sure the second Elsa hears what happened, she’ll be in early and staying late trying to nurse you back to health.”
“Oh, Elsa’s waffles and bacon. I could be down with that.”
He laughed, the sound surprising him. How could he laugh when she'd just been hit by a car? But sitting here with her, acting like this was just another normal day at the winery while she looked at him with love in her eyes despite the fear—it felt right.
Devon was going to make sure that Emery didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few days. And whoever was trying to destroy her was going to learn a tough lesson about what happened when you came after someone a Boone loved.