Page 106 of Choosing Us

“Hey, it’s just you and me,” I call out to get his attention and eyes away from Ryan’s direction, but not before I release a clip on the left side of my utility belt, making a big show of lowering the weapon in my right hand down on the ground. “See? I’m trusting you to have a conversation here. I’m putting my gun down.”

I exhale slowly to steady my breath. I’m only going to get one chance at this.

I hope my calculations are correct.

Graham nods emphatically while pointing the knife down at Ryan, who is curled into the fetal position but still in a danger and far too close to that hunting knife. “Good. That’s right. Just you and me.” He visibly exhales and his shoulders lower slightly. “That’s a good idea. Harlow, I am so disappointed in you. After everything we have been through, you went and⁠—”

Whatever Graham was going to say next is interrupted by the extremely satisfying buzz of my taser hitting him straight in the chest. I knew I needed to be within twenty-five feet for the best chance of hitting the target, while this current model claims to be able to hit up to forty feet, I wasn’t willing to test its accuracy.

Not when it comes to Ryan.

Graham crumples to the ground, convulsing against the concrete floor. Walker and Kelly move in immediately. Kelly kicks the knife away as Walker flips Graham over, and the satisfying snap of handcuffs echoes through the cavernous space.

“I think you’ve taken enough from the lady, let alone any more of her time today, or ever again, asshole,” Walker tells Graham.

“No! No! Harlow! Harlow!” He tries to struggle against their hold, but his struggle is in vain. “You can’t do this! She’s mine!” He is yelling while Walker kneels on his back.

“The hell I am,” I declare as I walk past them.

“Piss off—oh, wait. You already did that in your pants, Dr. Tremblay.” As they pull Graham off the concrete floor, I see Kelly’s statement is accurate—a known possible side effect of being tased. Kelly’s comment would make me laugh any other day, but not today. Right now, the only thing that matters is Ryan.

I kneel next to him, cautiously hugging him, but don’t miss the groan he tries to hold back. He kisses the top of my head as I hug him as tight as I can without hurting him right now. “Hey, Lo.” Ryan grimaces as he tries to smile, but the last kick seems to have done some damage. “Funny running into you here.”

“Are you okay? I mean, obviously not, but overall, are you okay? The EMTs are on their way up, so don’t move if it hurts.” I run my hand to smooth his dark brown hair back as he cringes, trying to sit up. I’m also not sure where I can touch him that won’t hurt right now. “Does anything in your back hurt? That kick was intense. You might have some broken ribs. We’ll get you to the hospital, and I’m right here.” I gently kiss him, trying to avoid his split lip. He’s still dressed in his travel clothes, but the shirt is ripped, and I can see the start of bruising on his face. Knowing the coward that Graham is, he probably hit Ryan after incapacitating him when he took him. Ryan wouldn’t go down without a fight—there’s no doubt about that.

“I knew you would find me somehow. You or Liam, someone was going to come for me. I never doubted it.” His lazy smile contradicts his current physical predicament, but nothing could dim his goodness, or the glowing pride I feel in my chest knowing he’d always believed in me.

The EMTs quickly assess and load Ryan up in a gurney, and I follow them out, insisting I ride with him to the hospital. Once his vitals are secured and we are in route, he reaches for my hand, interlacing our fingers.

“How did you find me, Lo?” His voice is weakened by the oxygen mask covering his face.

I smile and squeeze his hand. “I called in The Cavalry, of course.”

Ryan’s eyes squint, and he tilts his head toward me. “I don’t get it, what do you mean?”

“Well, apparently,” I reach under his collar and tap on his necklace, “this is a Liam-Special.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

Ryan’s barks of laughter turn into coughing, but once it calms down, he’s grinning. “That asshole put a tracker on me, didn’t he?”

“He did—and I’m so incredibly glad he did,” I admit, then bite down on my lip to try and stop the tears. It has been an incredibly stressful four hours, but I need to keep my composure just a little longer. Ryan lets go of our hands and reaches up to tug my lip free. He gently cradles my face for a moment before taking my hand again.

He interlaces our fingers again as I brush away a rogue tear that managed to escape with my other hand.

“Me too, Lo. Me fucking too.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

“Alright, Mr. Callahan, your vitals look good. We will just monitor a few more things and wait for that last scan to get reviewed by a radiologist, but so long as you have a stable night, I don’t see why you can’t be discharged in the morning, alright?” The doctor nods and turns before leaving the room. “Hit the call button if anything changes, or you need anything. A nurse will be in soon, and I or one of my colleagues will be back as soon as radiology checks that scan.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” I say, grateful I can use a professional title because I have no memory of what his name actually was. I know he told me his name, but my memory is maxed out for the night.

“Appreciate it, Doc.” My dad steps forward and shakes his hand. It may be close to midnight, but my dad was waiting for me at the hospital when Harlow and I arrived in the ambulance. I don’t know who called him, but I was grateful that Harlow didn’t need to feel bad about taking care of some work details without worrying about leaving me alone. She needed to step out again before the last specialist arrived to examine me, but I’m not sure how long it will be until she comes back.

“Knock, knock.” A voice that shouldn’t surprise me still does as Liam walks into the hospital room. “Were y’all having a party and not telling me, or what?” Dad pulls him into a brief hug before Liam walks over and leans down to gently hug me.

I have to clear my throat before telling my brother, “You didn’t have to come from Timbuktu. I’m in good hands.”

“You know, people underestimate how fast and far you can travel with a private jet in less than five hours. But I think what you meant to say was, ‘Thanks for coming, brother. Appreciate the concern.’ Or something like that, right?” He stands up and softly squeezes my shoulder. “I had to, Ry. Someone fucked around with my family, and I wasn’t here to help. I’m sorry.”