Jealousy roared. She wasn’t his little anything.
I was being ridiculous.
And damn him, he was right.
I dragged a hand over my face. My distressed dog whined, pressing his body into mine, sensing my fury and fear. I didn’t know how to calm down.
“Okay to leave him here with you?” I asked, bending low to give my dog the first whole-body rub he’d received since I’d shown up at the ranch.
“We’ll be fine here,” Sweeney said. His hand landed on my shoulder. “She will be too. We’re all on this now, which means the snake won’t be able to stay hidden forever. Not with all of us hunting him.”
He was right, but what else would happen before his identity was uncovered?
I rubbed my dog again and said gruffly, “I’ll be back soon, and I’m bringing our girl with me. We’ll pick up the stupid cat, and we’ll all be together again. Soon, bud. Soon.”
Then, I headed out the door. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let Maiseybe hurt again, but the asshole had struck at her through her dad and sliced home anyway. Worse, she’d faced it all alone.
She hadn’t had to do any of it by herself. She could have trusted me to be at her side. But Maisey never wanted to put others out. She was more than willing to help everyone and anyone but hated to be on the receiving end. But this time was different. In trying to face this alone, she could have been killed.
Damn. My heart couldn’t take this. Couldn’t take the thought of not having her in my life.
But when I reached the hospital and saw her—despair carved into her face, pacing a deserted corner of the ICU, soaked to the bone and shivering under the sterile blast of the air-conditioning—my anger burned itself out in an instant. She was hurting. Scared. Fucking freezing.
She faced the room where the doctors fought for her father’s life, so she didn’t see me coming down the hall. But Cleaver did. He just stood there, a useless sentry with a frown dug between his brows, doing nothing. Nothing to ease her panic. Nothing to stop her from trembling in those rain-drenched clothes. And my rage found a new home—this time at him.
“Maisey!” She turned, and the tortured grief on her face sliced through me more. In two long strides, I dropped the duffel and wrapped her in my arms. She buried her face in my chest and broke. Sobs shuddered through her, wracking her body. A body that was as cold as ice.
I glared at Cleaver over the top of her head. “You’re freezing. You need to change.”
“I can’t leave. I need to know as soon as they walk out what’s going on,” she said as her teeth chattered.
“If you get sick, you won’t be any good to him,” I shot back. “I brought you some clothes.”
I grabbed her hand as I picked up the duffel and then hauled her, protesting, down the hall to the nearest restroom. After dragging her into the single-stalled room, I blocked the door, unzipped the bag, and pulled out clothes.
“Take those off, or I’ll do it for you,” I demanded. Relief flooded me when anger sparked in her expression instead of the tortured grief I’d seen.
She did what I’d ordered, toeing out of the soaked sneakers, ripping off the drenched tee and yoga pants, and letting them drop with a wet slap to the linoleum. She stood there, completely naked but gut-wrenchingly beautiful and full of fiery emotions.
She fisted her hands at her waist and scowled. “Better?”
“Not even close,” I growled.
Stepping toward her, I pulled a sweatshirt over her head. It was anSRFD one I’d grabbed from my go-bag at the last moment. The hem hung down around her thighs, and I found myself inappropriately turned on by the sight of her.
The memories of what she’d tasted like and sounded like and felt like when we’d been wrapped around each other last night flooded me.
Angry with myself now, I reached into the bag for the underwear and jeans I’d grabbed from her room. She yanked them on. “I don’t have time for your overprotective bullshit, Beckett. So save it. I need to get back to my dad.”
“Standing outside the hospital door isn’t going to change whatever is going on beyond it,” I snapped. “Tell me what the hell happened and why you went up there on your own!”
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at her toenails that were painted the same color as the dress she’d worn to the ball.
When she didn’t respond, my heart cracked open a little more.
“Tell me what happened. Why are you shutting me out?” It was a quiet plea, one she didn’t heed.
After several long seconds, when she still wouldn’t look at me, a different fear wound through me. I hadn’t lost her physically. She was there in front of me—stunning and brave and so fucking stubborn—but something had happened to cause her to retreat emotionally.