Page 80 of Recklessly Yours

HATTIE

Wasthis what it felt like to die? My body vibrated with fear and my head thrummed with pain. I wasn’t ready to open my eyes yet, afraid of what I’d find. The last vision I had was of Josh lunging at me with a knife in his hand as I attempted to throw myself, and the chair I was still tied to, over to avoid being stabbed. But I couldn’t remember anything after that.

Shuffling noises and then the sound of someone howling in pain hit my ears. Was that me? Maybe I was having an out-of-body experience.

Dylan called my name—an agonizing hitch to his voice—finally forcing me to pry my eyes open. My stomach tightened. Was he hurt?

On the ground in front of me, Josh lay on his stomach while Dylan pressed a knee to the middle of his back. Dylan held my stare, agony radiating in his eyes, as he holstered his gun and pulled Josh’s arms behind his back before securing his wrists with a zip tie.

A stream of blood running down Dylan’s arm caught my attention, and I gasped at the sight, my heart lodged in my throat. The cut looked deep, and blood continued to gush from it as I lay, immobile, tied to this damn chair and now, feeling utterly useless.

Dylan glanced down at the slash across his bicep and groaned. “You chose the wrong woman to fuck with.”

As he shifted his weight on Josh’s back, Josh howled out in pain.

“All clear.”

Ethan stepped inside and headed straight toward them, wearing a cocky smile. “Well, that was easy.”

Easy? He wasn’t the one who’d had a psychopath with a knife lunging at him.

Dylan glared at him, then stood and let him take over. “Read him his rights and lock him in the back of a squad car.”

“Sure thing, Boss.” Ethan tipped his head at Dylan’s arm. “You need to get that looked at. Definitely gonna need stitches.”

He nodded but kept his gaze focused on me. “Yeah, it’ll have to wait, though. I have more important things to do first.”

Those words sank deep into my soul, making me feel seen and important to someone for the first time in a very long time.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

DYLAN

In three long strides,I was crouching in front of Hattie and lifting the chair to an upright position. She had hit her head pretty hard when she tipped herself sideways, and my first task was to make sure she wasn’t bleeding. After running my hand over the side of her head and not finding blood, I relaxed.

Cupping her face with my hands, I pressed my lips to her forehead. The smell of fresh rain enveloped me, instantly soothing my frayed nerves. “You okay?”

Sniffling, she nodded, her eyes welling with tears. “Your arm.”

Gently, I looped my hands around her to untie the rope securing her wrists. “It’s not that deep. It’ll be fine.”

“I thought he was going to”—her throat moved as she swallowed—“kill me. Then I was scared he hurt you.”

“I know, baby.” I rested my forehead against hers as I loosened the rope. “But it’s over now. And we’re okay. We’re both okay.”

My body relaxed only slightly as I repeated those words in my head.

Draping her arms around my neck, she fell against me. For a long moment, we stayed like that, just breathing one another in. Finally, I slid my arm under her knees and picked her up, wincing and ignoring the pain.

“Dylan, your arm.” Worry etched her features as she swatted at my chest. “I can walk, you know.”

“I know. But you hit your head and might have a concussion, so let me carry you, okay?”

Sighing, she snuggled her face into the place where my shoulder meets my neck. “Only if you promise to let me look at your arm when we get to your car.”

“Deal.” I didn’t set her down until I’d made it to the passenger side of my SUV. Once she was seated inside the vehicle, I held her face in my hands again, searching her face for any marks or bruises.

“Dylan.” She covered my hands with hers. “I’m okay. I promise.”

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