Chapter 36 Trigger
Trigger
The world didn’t come back all at once.
It returned in pieces.
The low hum of the medical unit. The rustle of fabric as someone adjusted a blanket. The steady beep of a monitor that told me what I already knew—Rylie was alive.
I sat on the edge of the cot, my forearms braced on my knees, my hands still shaking just enough to piss me off.
Rylie lay propped against pillows, a bandage on her shoulder, both wrists wrapped, her hair tangled and damp like she’d fought a storm and won.
She opened her eyes.
The moment she focused on me, something in my chest cracked clean open.
“You stayed,” she said softly.
There was no accusation in it.
Just relief.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I answered. My voice came out rough. Honest.
Her fingers twitched under the blanket. I took her hand before she could ask, careful of the bandages, threading my fingers through hers like I needed the contact to stay upright.
“They hurt you,” I said.
She shook her head. “They tried.”
I huffed out a breath that might’ve been a laugh if it hadn’t carried so much fear with it. “That scared the hell out of me.”
Her lips curved. “Me too.”
That did it.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead against hers, my eyes closing as the adrenaline finally bled out of my system.
“I should’ve seen it coming,” I said quietly. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I should’ve—”
“Eli,” she said gently.
I stilled.
“You saved me,” she continued. “But I saved myself first. You and my Dad taught me how.”
My throat locked.
I pulled back enough to look at her properly—really look. Not the woman I’d been protecting, but the one who had fought her way through concrete and darkness and still trusted me enough to run toward me at the end.
“I thought I’d lose you,” I admitted.
Her thumb brushed my knuckle. “You didn’t.”
Silence settled between us—not awkward, not heavy.
Intimate.
Then she whispered, “I knew you were close.”
I swallowed hard. “I felt you move.”
Her eyes searched mine. “You always know.”
I didn’t deny it.
“I don’t know what comes next,” she said. “But I know I don’t want to face it without you.”
That was the moment.
The one I’d been circling since the first night at the cabin.
“I’m done pretending this is temporary,” I said. “I love you, Rylie.”
Her breath hitched—but she didn’t hesitate.
“I love you too,” she said.
I kissed her then—slow, careful, reverent. Not the kiss of victory or relief.
The kiss of two people who had walked through hell separately…
…and chosen each other anyway.
Outside, the Rangers packed up, the world moved on, and consequences waited.
But in that small, quiet space?
Nothing else mattered.