77. Emotionally Exhausted and Verbally Constipated
EMOTIONALLY EXHAUSTED AND VERBALLY CONSTIPATED
brIGHTON
No one will ever mistake me for being patient.
Or demure.
Emotionally exhausted and verbally constipated, maybe. But just today.
I have no bandwidth for bullshit.
When the pure, sweet sounds of an October midday hit my ears, and not filled with the ringing from a pistol fired indoors without hearing protection, not swarmed by ambulance sirens or the wails of police cruisers.
When Colt isn’t screaming in fear and Strait isn’t whinnying and fighting against his enclosure. When Luna isn’t howling or hiding.
When the sounds are just birds chirping and the wind singing through the barn, Colt’s little snores and the steady thrum of Eli’s breathing, that’s the moment I exhale.
It’s also the moment I can’t not move.
“Eli?”
“Greatest gift in the world is hearing you call me that.” His murmur mirrors his soft eyes. “Though you know I’m partial to hearing it when I’m inside you.”
“You’re trying to distract me.”
“Yes. And no.” He kisses my forehead.
“I can’t sit here knowing Pop is hurt. We don’t have an update on him or Emberleigh.”
“For that matter, we don’t know where Emberleigh’s father is, and he’s the threat we’ve suspected for months.”
I whip my head to the door as I wiggle free from his arms. Turning, I set Colt on his lap and begin pacing.
I tick off my fingers as I wear a path back and forth across the office. I’m thinking out loud, releasing the pent-up energy from my body, trying to make sense of uncertainty.
“What we know… Credible threat. Abandoned FedEx truck. Unknown vehicle that two people… one we can assume is poser boy.” I look over to the blood on the hay where that asshole thought he could attack my family. “The second person potential contained. Three—”
“The second one’s no longer a threat.” Eli’s voice is calm and confident.
“You’re sure?”
“Sure enough that you can add it to your fingers as you wear out the soles in your boots.” His smile is familiar and intimate. It’s just the two of us. Well, the three of us, but it has the same effect.
I go back to my fingers. “Second potential threat contained or eliminated. Who was the first ambulance for? How did they breach the security gate? Where is Emberleigh’s father?”
She stops her pacing and whips her gaze to me. “Have we heard how Emberleigh is? What’s the word on Pop? Do you know? I can’t stay here much longer knowing he needs me.”
“We’re here because it’s the best for everyone.
I know you hate it. I know it’s eating at you, but this is us keeping ourselves safe.
Keeping Colt safe. Reducing stress on Brax, Emberleigh, and Kimp.
It sucks, darlin’, but we’re doing this because it cares for your family in a way that everyone needs right now.
” He gestures to me. “So, keep pacing and working it out, because we can't leave just yet.”
“Don’t be reasonable right now, Elias Finchley. I don’t have time for logic. Argh!”
A grin widens across his face as he stands, placing Colt in his carrier, and makes his way to me. He grabs my right hand before twirling me out and then pulling me into his chest. His other arm wraps low on my waist.
Without music, he begins to dance with me, occasionally kissing my temple or resting his forehead against mine.
An indeterminate amount of time later, I feel the buzz of Eli’s phone in his pocket. He pulls back and looks at the screen before tapping out a message.
He takes my face in both hands, his thumbs massaging small circles at my jaws. “You’re not going to like this, but you can handle it. I need to get to the hospital to Brax. He’s not hurt. It’s about Emberleigh. He wouldn’t ask me to come if it weren’t important… And it’s important.”
I pull back hard. “Hell no. You expect me to just wait around until what? I’m going along. You check on Brax; I’ll check on Pop. Divide and conquer. No more of this wait-and-see crap.”
I pull back and turn to leave his embrace.
“Remember the you’re-not-going-to-like-this part? Baby, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
“This is my family, Elias. Mine. Why are you calling the shots?” I’m trying to stay strong, but even I can hear the defeat in my voice.
He stands back, looks around, his gaze landing on the blood-soaked floor before moving to the baby sleeping in a carrier on the floor, and he grins. The fucker grins.
“This is hardly me controlling anything, Bright. This is barely-contained chaos. This is me protecting you. I wish you would let me.”
“I trust you. You know I do.”
“Then do me this favor and prove it. Stay here. Stay safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I give in. But only because I trust Eli and I trust that he will do what’s best for me and my family. He’s proven it time and time again.
Elias
Me: Leaving the hospital and coming to get you. Will tell you about the shit show when I get there.
Brighton: Pop?
She’s never going to wait long enough for a text response, so I call. She answers on the first ring. “Eli?”
“Hey, darlin’. Kimp was airlifted to Austin. I’m coming to get y’all.”
“What did they say?”
“The staff didn’t inform me of anything, but, Bright? Brax said he’s in a medically induced coma. We’ll be with him as soon as we can get there.”
“Eli…” Pain bleeds through the line in the whisper of her voice.
“I know, baby. I’m grabbing a change of clothes at home and will be there. Less than thirty minutes, okay?”
“Hurry!”
“The ranch is secured. We need to pack a bag for Colt, since Brax asked us to watch him while he’s with Emberleigh at the hospital. Can you do that?”
“Okay.”
“Anything you think Kimp wants with him for the next few days while he recuperates?”
“Let me think on that.” The sounds over the line tell me she’s moving.
“I need my tablet, if you can grab it, and we need to figure out a car seat for Colt. Bright?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re walking into two crime scenes, and—”
“What?”
“This isn’t a surprise after today. The cops have left. Photos have been taken and evidence has been collected.”
“M’kay.” Her distracted tone means her brain is going ninety miles a minute.
I stay silent, waiting for her prompt, wanting her to pause long enough to center herself.
“So?” She continues.
“So… There’s been no clean-up.”
All sound through the line stops. I wait for a response, but none comes. I listen for footsteps or breathing but hear neither.
After longer than Brighton Ranger is known to be silent for, there’s a sniffle, followed by a deep inhale. The weight in her voice belies her words. “I’m tired of being this strong. At least today…”
“You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. I’m in awe of you. You can do this.”
“I know I can, Eli.” Well, at least her spine is back. “I’m just tired of it.”
“I’m happy to take care of it, baby, so you don’t have to. You know I’d rather you not have those images burned in your brain.”
“But that means longer to get to Pop.”
“It does.”
“I’d rather deal with the aftermath of what I see and get to my dad faster.”
“That’s what I figured. Get after it. I’m at home. I’ll pack quickly and then be there to get y’all. Love you, darlin’.”
“Love you too, Eli.”
We disconnect and get on with the business at hand.
I grab her hand and thread my fingers through hers, as we leave the parking garage, making our way to the breezeway connecting us to the hospital. Her fingers squeeze mine as if she’s trying to suck the strength from me to channel it as her own.
She’s shaking, cold, and was quiet the whole drive. Hell, the seat warmer didn’t even help. My verbose, in-control woman is neither of those right now.
Colt is asleep in his carrier hanging from the crook of my other elbow. How he continues to sleep through this is beyond me, but I’ll count that as one of today’s few blessings.
As I lead her toward the front desk, it isn’t lost on me that it is rare that I actually lead this woman. She knows her mind, is always in charge, and takes no shit. She doesn’t need anyone. But I have no doubt that she needs me.
The receptionist points us in the right direction, and we continue down the angled halls into the labyrinth of sterile whites and cold metals to find the right elevator in the wing of this maze of hallways.
We enter, and she stares at the electric numbers as they flip before needing a tug to exit and make our way down the hall.
Her silence is eerie. Her diminutive form is foreign to me. Her spirit seems to have lost its light.
The double doors that lead to the grouping of rooms where Kimpton recovers are within eyesight. When Brighton sees them, she drags her feet, buying seconds more time.
“Bright?”
Her head bobs, but she doesn’t face me and doesn’t say anything.
“Brighton.”
Nothing. Oh hell, no.
I tug her to the empty waiting room on our left and place Colt’s carrier on the floor next to me.
Without preamble and with only a hungry look at her mouth, I push Brighton to the wall, hand at her neck, thumb at her jaw, tipping her face to mine.
I take her mouth, forcing entry.
My other arm goes low around her back tugging her to me.
She’s limp, as if her mind’s far away, and not with me. And then she is. A little moan of pleasure is audible and vibrates on my tongue. She meets me there, warring for dominance as is her way. She wraps an arm around my neck and threads her fingers through my hair.
I pull back and look into her eyes. “Darlin’, your dad is a Ranger. He may not be invincible but he’s a hell of a fighter. You of all people know that.”
She nods.
“He’ll make it. He’s too ornery not to. But he’s going to need you to be you when we get into that room.”
She nods again.
“You ready for this?”
“I am.” She throws back her shoulders and lifts her chin.
“Or at least fake it ‘till you make it?”
“Or that.” She offers a small smile with that comment.
I take her hand again, kissing the back of it, before grabbing Colt and the two bags on the floor, and lead her from the room to the metal double doors.
I indicate the call button. She acquiesces and pushes it, readjusting her spine.
“May I help you?” the disembodied voice asks.