Proving once and for all, my heart wasn’t a dead block of petrified wood.
I didn’t just love her. It was so much more than that. It was as if she were the reason I breathed. The reason I existed at all. I’d been put here to be of service to her. I’d done a decent job of it as kids, distracting her from her sister and the stupid headgear. I’d even been there when her mom died, but I’d utterly failed once we’d reached adulthood.
No more.
I narrowed my gaze on Bugsy.
“She’s absolutely going to the hospital.”
“I agree,” her dad said.
Maisey shook her head and winced. “No. I’m really not. There’s no need to take up a bed in the ER for someone to tell me what I already know. I have some bumps and scrapes. Nothing more.”
One look at my face had her gentling her response, soothing me, when she should be the one receiving comfort. “Seriously, Beckett. I doubt I evenhave a concussion, so there’s no reason to freak out over nothing.”
The EMT put her hand on Maisey’s elbow and guided her back to the ambulance. “Let me finish cleaning the pebbles out of these scrapes at least.” As she worked, Bugsy said, “Beckett and Maisey both know what to look for if she does have a concussion. Her eyes are clear and steady. That knot will hurt like a bitch, but I think it’s fine for her to stay here if she wants.”
“No one should be staying here,” Parker stated dryly.
I had twelve hours left on my shift, but I’d call Stoney and have him cover for me. I wasn’t leaving Maisey. Not now. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to leave her again.
And that did cause a moment of alarm. A twinge in my chest. I loved my job. Maisey loved hers. We wouldn’t be able to be tied at the hip for the rest of our lives. But those were all things to think of later. After we’d figured out who was doing this and stopped them from hurting her worse than they had tonight.
“Parker is right,” Fallon said. “You should all come to the resort and stay with us for a few days.”
Maisey shook her head and paled once again. She was hurting and trying to hide it. Big fucking surprise. She didn’t want to be any trouble. Didn’t want anyone to have to take care of her.
“Fallon, it’s the Fourth of July weekend,” she said softly. “The ranch is packed. You don’t have room for three more guests.”
“We can put the kids together, so someone can stay with us, and Mom and Teddy have a guest room. They won’t mind someone staying there,” Fallon insisted.
“I booked two nights at the Carlyle for the Firefighters Ball,” I said. “Maisey and I will be there for the next two nights.”
Maisey looked from me to her dad, concern practically dripping from her.
“Would you stay with Lauren and Teddy for a few nights, Dad? I’ll feel better if I know you’re somewhere safe while Beckett and I are gone.”
“This isn’t about me, Maisey,” Lewis said. His voice was hoarse, broken with the same raw emotions I was battling. “You’re the one they keep coming after.” The furrow in his brows deepened. “I just don’t understand why.”
When everyone in the group’s attention turned to Maisey, she flushed. “I wish I understood it myself.”
“I’m hoping to get some prints off the crowbar or the note this time,” Cleaver broke in. “And I’ll follow up on the boots you described, Maisey.”
Confusion bled in. What exactly had she seen? “Wait… You saw him?”
“No,” she said. “They struck me from behind, but I saw their boots when they stepped close enough to shove the note in my shirt…” she trailed off. My insides clenched. They’d touched her. They’d put their hands on her skin.
As if sensing the direction my thoughts had gone and the rage and fear that swamped me, Maisey grabbed my hand with her free one and squeezed it. Comfortingmeyet again. “Nothing happened, Beckett. They just left the note.”
It didn’t bring the relief it should have because it wasn’tnothing. They’d hit her. They’d knocked her out. And even if they hadn’t done something more tonight, they could have while she’d been lying on the ground unprotected.
Cleaver cleared his throat. “No one sells those boots locally. But anyone could have bought a pair online. I’ll do my best to track them down, just don’t get your hopes up on it leading us anywhere.”
“What type of boot?” I demanded.
Cleaver’s eyes fell to my feet. “From what Maisey described, it seems like the boots you guys wear with your Class B’s.”
What the hell? Was this one of my team? Stoney? Someone else at the firehouse whom I hadn’t even started to suspect? New pain squeezed my lungs tight—new fear and new regrets.