Page 137 of Secrets in the Deep

Ryan dove forward, grabbing Emily by the arm as she went over the edge with Roscoe. But the bastard had a firm hold on her other wrist.

A single gunshot rang through the air.

Roscoe dropped, hitting the concrete beneath them, eyes open, gunshot wound to the temple.

One glance. That was all the asshole got before Ryan pulled Emily up and scooped her into his arms.

“You’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she whispered back, digging her head into his chest.

Alive. She was alive. And Roscoe was dead.

It was over.

31

Ryan watched as the doctor wrapped a bandage around Emily’s calf. It was so fucking white against her skin.

Emily had been stabbed in the leg. Fuckingstabbed. Again. He’d been stabbed too, but the wound was shallow and doctors had already wrapped it. He barely noticed it. All his attention was on Emily.

The only good thing to come out of the last few hours was that imaging had shown she didn’t need surgery, just sutures and bandaging.

Didn’t help the rage in his chest.

“All done.” The doctor stepped back.

“What now?” Ryan asked, straightening. “Does she need to stay overnight for monitoring?”

The doctor shook his head as he removed his gloves. “Nope. She’s good to go.” He looked at Emily. “Just keep up with the pain medication and come back in if there are any problems.”

“I will.” A tiny hint of a smile from Emily. “Thank you.”

Ryan moved over to her side and slipped an arm around her waist.

The second the doctor stepped out, Emily leaned her head against his chest. “Thank God. I’m ready to go home and sleep this horrible day away.”

There was no sleeping this away for him. Shit, he didn’t know when he’d be able to sleep again. The sight of her on that roof, knife against her neck, was going to torment him for a long fucking time.

He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“How’s your side?” She looked at the place he’d been stabbed.

“It’s fine. I don’t even feel it.”

She looked at him like she didn’t believe him, then went to stand, but he scooped her up before she could put weight on her leg.

“Ryan—”

“You arenotwalking.”

“Okay, well, then I need a wheelchair. You got hurt too.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” He strode toward the door.

“I need?—”

“Me. That’s it. And you’re also not going to win this one.”