Page 224 of Overcast

“Never,” Emmy chimes from behind me. “And you’re bleeding all over Reagan’s floor.”

Who the fuck cares?

“They didn’t teach him nice back in—where the fuck are you from again?”

Mills.

I don’t have to peer over my shoulder because he squats down, right in between Stormi and I, like the pain in my ass he’s been the whole time.

“Hey, Cinderella,” he greets with a small smile her way. “You’re a psycho, you know that?”

“Can you give us some fucking space?” I censure. “I haven’t even gotten to yell at her yet.”

A small hand loops underneath my arm. “Lockwood,” Emmy calls out. “Help me lift him up?”

“Dude,” I complain. “Can I have—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Wade carps, promptly at my other side. “We already heard you talk enough about your feelings, and I’m queasy as hell from it.”

Amazing, I had an audience.

“It was sweet,” Emmy whispers closely at my side because it was sappy as fuck but true. “I had my sight on the dude behind you, good thing I didn’t cry. I might’ve missed.”

“After this,” I grumble. “I’m beginning to wish you had.”

I’m lifted up, positioned so I can stand on my good leg but pulled away from where I want to be. As well as all the shit I have to say.

With Emmy and Wade on my sides, I take a split second to appreciate how lucky I am that they pulled through. Another minute or so, it would’ve been too late. I would have lost everything that my heart longed for and would never get back.

I also have to watch Mills grab Stormi’s hand and gently guide her upward. I’ve barely gotten to touch her yet, and...here we go again.

“I have a first aid kit in the back of the trunk,” Emmy advises, slowly helping me turn around. “We’ll get you bandaged and—”

“I need everyone out of the room,” I bark out. “Then you can administer first aid.” Wade immediately lets go of me, not about to argue about the possibility of me bleeding to death.

He understands me—it’s all I could ask for in a brother-in-law.

“Alright, clear the room,” Emmy announces, then lightly tugs on my shirt. “Three minutes, I’ll be counting.”

“Of course you will, Em.”

She doesn’t move, staring up at me before she rapidly begins to blink. Diverting her eyes, she hides the fact that she’s about to cry.

I pull her in for a hug, resting my chin for a moment on top of her head when I mumble, “Go start my timer and grab me a beer. I’m going to need it.”

She nods then pulls away from me as I steer my attention back to the woman I want to throttle. Who I crave to kiss because it’s been too long since I got to taste her.

Yes, it was my doing, but this woman almost blew her head off.

“You,” I command gruffly from the pain throbbing through my whole right leg and because I’m pissed. I point at the ground in front of me. “Come here.”

Hesitantly, she does, keeping a safe two feet in between us which might be for the better. However, space is something we’ve had too much of here lately.

“If you ever do something like that to me again, I swear to God, sweetheart, I will—

“I don’t regret what I did,” she admits, lifting her chin defiantly. “There isn’t—” Snatching her bicep, I haul her into my chest, almost knocking myself off balance.

“Regret it,” I seeth through my teeth. “You have no fucking idea what you almost did to me.”

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