41. Shiloh
Shiloh
This is a full-circle moment. I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. They said I have a minor concussion. Other than that, I’m just bruised and banged up. It could have been worse. I’m more worried about where Ledger is.
Did he catch the men?
Is he hurt?
Or did he drop me here because we’re only friends, which is exactly what I told him I wanted, and he doesn’t feel like he should stay?
But he said he would be back.
As if he knew I was thinking about him, my husband strides into my room with a grimace and roughened hands.
“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, coming to the side of the bed.
I nod and tell him what the nurse told me.
I wring my hands, not sure what to say, or maybe burst into tears. I’m oscillating between both.
“You came back,” I rasp.
He frowns. “Yeah, I told you I would.”
I bite my lower lip, making the pain discourage my tears.
“Do they need to keep you overnight?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Okay, we can’t go back to your place, so I’ll take you home and we’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll get the papers,” he says and walks out of the room, looking for a nurse.
I’m right back where I started, beat up, without a home, and now I don’t even have my clothes.
But maybe, if he’ll listen, I might have Ledger, and he’s all I need.
Ledger comes back with a nurse and a clipboard. She gives Ledger care instructions and has me sign a couple of things.
They roll me to the front doors and he stoops down, picking me up before I have a chance to stand.
“You don’t need to hurt your feet anymore,” he says.
I stare at his profile as he carries me, and that knot in my chest loosens.
He sets me in the truck and we head home, home. His home. But it didn’t take long for it to feel like mine too.
We pull into his garage, and he shuts off the truck and closes the garage door before he gets out.
“Ledger, I —”
“We need to —”
We say at the same time and I press my lips together.
“We need to talk,” he says.
“Yeah, I think we do,” I whisper.
He gets out of the cab, and I open the door, but he meets me there, helping me out and carrying me into the house.
“Where’s Dozer?” I ask as he sets me on my feet.
“He’s at the station, and we’re going to have to leave him there for the night, or rather, the morning. I have … well, I’ll explain that in a second,” he mumbles.
Hobbling to the couch, I drop with a sigh.
“I’m sure you’re tired, but we only have a couple hours.”
“Okay,” I say, and the words feel heavier than they should, probably because I’m holding too much in.
He grabs us a glass of water and sets it on the coffee table next to the still unfinished puzzle.
“Why do your hands look like that?” I ask him.
He won’t look me in the eye, and my stomach clenches. “Grey is back, but he won’t be bothering you again.”
“I knew it was him,” I rasp, as my hands shake and I shove them under my thighs. I can’t breathe.
Ledger’s hands come around mine. “Look at me,” he says.
I lift my chin, and he says, “I took care of it. He won’t be a problem anymore.”
“What does that mean?” I choke out.
“It means exactly what I said.”
“Did you kill him?” I ask slowly. That’s one secret I’d take to the grave.
He huffs. “No, though he probably wishes he was dead. But no, I didn’t kill him. I have enough self-control for that.”
I swallow thickly.
The bags under his eyes seem to have gotten darker in the past few days.
“I’m sorry, Shy.”
My mouth drops open to speak, but I’m too shocked to form words.
“I should have been there, maybe convinced you to stay here. I don’t know, but I’m sorry I let this happen. I let you down, again.”
I grip his hands firmly in mine and can’t fight the tears anymore. “None of this is your fault. I’m the one who left.”
“The moment you told me what you saw, I should have put a deputy on you at all times.”
“If you did, then it would confirm that I talked,” I rasp.
He sighs. “I know, but …”
“I should be the one apologizing.”
“Why? You’re the victim,” he says, shocked.
“In this instance, sure, but I lied. I pushed you away in my feeble attempt to protect you because of what I knew. I didn’t want to run the risk of you standing between me and them. I —”
“You will never stand between me and them, Shy. That’s my job, regardless of how you feel about me,” he says.
I take a nervous breath and look him in the eye. “I don’t want to be friends with you, Ledger. I thought it was the right thing to do because I knew you respected me enough to let me go. But I was so wrong.”
“Oh, thank God,” he grumbles and grabs my face before smashing his lips onto mine.
It hurts a bit, but the relief outweighs the bite of pain.
I whimper against him, and he gently pulls back, kissing my bruised face and forehead.
“I love you. I don’t want a divorce. I want to stay married to you,” I rasp.
He takes a stuttered breath. “Say it again.”
“I love you,” I say a little louder.
“I never wanted you to leave,” he rasps, kissing me again.
“I’m sorry I put you through this.”
He shakes his head. “I’m glad you’re okay and proud of you for fighting back. This is almost over.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means I need to take you up to Dallas’s place.”
“Why can’t I stay home?” I ask.
“Because he knows where I live,” Ledger rasps and kisses me on the forehead one more time before he stands.
“I’ll get a few things and we’ll head up, okay?” he says.
I lean back against the couch, confused, but also relieved. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I trust him, and he’ll tell me when the time is right.
Leaning my head against the couch, I grab the blanket on the other side, pulling it over me. I’m tired and cold, and this couch is pretty comfortable compared to the twin blow-up mattress I got.
“Shy, wake up,” Ledger says gently.
I force my heavy eyes open, and he’s standing there in fresh clothes, holding a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.
“Do you want to shower first?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I mumble. He hands me the clothes, and I trudge to the bathroom.
“You’re not going anywhere, right?” I ask him, squeezing the clothes in my hands.
“I’ll be right here.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods, and I go through the motions of my shower, half-asleep and kind of sore. The water burns in the scrapes on my feet, but I manage to pull myself together.
When I’m done, Ledger is right where I left him.
“Feel better?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
Driving up to Dallas King’s vacation house in the dark is terrifying. No wonder he picked the area. It’s hard enough to get up to during the daytime.
Ledger chuckles, keeping his eyes on the gravel road.
“Why are you laughing?”
“You’re practically bracing for impact with every bump of the truck. Don’t worry, I’ve driven these roads plenty of times.”
I groan and we dip again. “It’s scarier at night.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says.
“Tell that to the road.”
He huffs, and a few minutes later we finally make it, all in one piece.
I get out, and the cool mountain air fills my lungs, waking me up.
Ledger grabs two bags from the back and leads the way. He punches in the code and locks the door behind us, dropping the bags and wandering into the kitchen.
“I didn’t think to grab food,” he mumbles.
“Not hungry.”
“Drink?” he asks.
“Water, please.”
He fills a glass for me and downs his own.
“I think we both need some shut-eye,” he says, setting the glass in the sink.
I follow him up the stairs into one of the guest rooms. He sets a bag for me, presumably with his clothes in it, on the chair to the side and turns to leave.
“Ledger?”
He hums, turning around. The lights are off, and I can barely see him.
“Thank you for everything.”
“Always,” he rasps and closes the door behind him.
Indecision bounces in my heart like a pinball. I want him to stay. I want him with me.
I throw the door open, only to find Ledger standing there with his back to me.
“Ledger?”
He turns around and drops his bag. “I don’t want to sleep without you anymore,” he whispers, as if it’s a secret.
“Then stay with me.” I grab his wrist and pull him into the room and shut the door.
He flips on the light and unpacks his bag, setting his gun on the nightstand and wandering into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
When he’s done, I watch him drop his jeans and t-shirt, and I pull off all the decorative pillows.
He stares at me from across the bed, and something settles in my chest.
I love this man.
He reaches down and flips the light off, breaking the spell, and we crawl in bed together. I don’t know what time it is and I don’t care anymore.
We lay side by side and I don’t know what to do. It almost feels as if everything is new again.
His hand brushes mine, sending a shiver up my arm.
We’re like crashing waves, coming at each other and pushing up the shore, then receding back into the vast ocean. Only I don’t want to recede anymore. I want to collapse so deeply into him that I don’t care if I ever come back.
I lift a finger, wrapping it around his, and he curls his own, holding mine in place.
When we were apart, I learned a few things about myself.
I’ve always been capable of being on my own.
That was something I never needed to prove to myself.
The ability to pay bills and make myself dinner might make me independent, but that’s it.
It doesn’t give me the chance to care for someone heart and soul, or learn what it means to sacrifice for someone you love.
It doesn’t open my eyes to what happens when I have someone at my side, ready to dive in with me.
I proved to myself that I love my husband because I love him. It wasn’t born out of some twisted savior complex because I felt bad about everything he was giving me and received very little in return. No, it’s simply because.
And that’s enough.
“We’re taking the Kensingtons down tomorrow. It will all happen at once, and it could get messy.”
I sit up on my elbow, needing to see his face.
“Ledger, they’re dangerous. They won’t go down without a fight.”