Page 91 of Vetted for Vengeance
“You didn’t.”
“But you were going to.” That slips out before I can stop it.
I feel his stiffened instantly. I feel the silence. Not from the room. From him.
Just for a second.
“Yes.”
No denial or softening of the fact. Just the truth.
I nod, thinking it would be less painful than speaking, but discovering how wrong that assumption is.
“I don't remember picking up the brick.”
“Save your voice,” he orders.
We both know what my words mean. Don't blab secrets.
I didn't choose a target.
If I had picked up the brick in my other hand…
If they had been the other way around…
Would I have hit Rhys?
My throat tightens again, my breath coming out in choked sobs.
“You knew what you were doing,” he encourages.
He's right. The adrenaline was pumping as I stepped between them. It's only now that my mind has fogged with doubt.
Sirens cut through the air outside. A sound that should have filled me with relief sends dread through my veins like ice.
What if I say something wrong and get Rhys into trouble?
“I don’t want them here,” I whisper.
Rhys’s grip tightens.
“They’re coming, anyway.”
And for the first time, I don't know if that's a good thing.
Chapter forty-three
Rhys
Noah lies on the ambulance cot, breathing deeply. He has an oxygen mask over his face, supposedly resting. The two paramedics are checking him over, and I'm staying out of their way.
Well… doing my best while Noah keeps me surgically attached at the wrist.
He is determined not to let go of me.
His neck looks sore and angry; his eyes are bloodshot and damp with tears. But I am so incredibly proud of him. I may have gone into the barn to save him, but he saved me. He slapped my face, not across my cheek but the center of my face, right across my mouth and nose.
He didn’t hit the other guy like that. Noah hit him with the brick.
