Page 79 of Stay for Me

I stayed awake until I couldn’t. That way, I didn’t get sucked into the nightmares. Before, they were replays of old combat missions, the ones that stuck with me, but now, Diana was mixed in, enduring pain I never wanted her to. I was half-tempted to call Grayson, to have him yell at me and pull me out the way I did for him last year when Carrie had been taken. His mind had warped the present and the past, forcing them together, and instead of watching himself be tortured by the terrorists who took him, it was Carrie.

He’d been sucked in, and his team called me, knowing I was the only person on the planet who would be able to pull him out.

I adjusted my hold on the reins and looked to the tree line, knowing what I had to do.

I knew I had to talk to my therapist. I knew I had to keep Grayson in the loop, because it’s what I expected of him, and he’d honored that tenfold.

You never take your own advice, man.

Both Grayson and Kings said those words to me—on the same night, in fact. Now, five years later, I still struggled with it.

Because you don’t deserve a damn solution. You deserve to rot. You deserve to suffer. Especially after hurting Diana.

Weeks had passed, and still, I heard nothing—not a single whisper of her coming to visit the ranch. Guilt coated my tongue, vile and poisonous. Hurting her was the single greatest torture I’d ever had to suffer through, but knowing her relationship with everyone else on Hallow Ranch had been fractured because of our connection was a different kind of pain entirely.

The hair on the back of my neck shot pin straight as a second cry rang out through the trees.

Fuck.

Goddamn fuck.

That wasn’t in my fucking head.

My eyes narrowed, scanning the mountain before snapping back over to the herd on the other side of the pasture. The rest of the cowboys were too far away to have heard the cries. I leaned back and blindly fished out the walkie from one of my saddle bags and radioed Jigs.

“Jigs. This is Mags. You copy? Over.”

I heard a round of static. “You got Jigs. Over.”

My eyes swung back to the mountain. “Are the girls hiking today?” Over.”

“No,” he answered. “Val and Harmony are in the town. Over.”

My shoulders relaxed, but only slightly.

It was in my head.

“Wait—Mags. Do you copy? Over.”

I brought the walkie up to my mouth. “Copy,” I clipped.

“Mags—shit—” Jigs cut out, static following. My jaw tightened, the pain I’d been harboring for the last month becoming damn near unbearable. When Jigs’ voice came across again, fear grabbed me by the throat, ready to choke what little life I had left. “Mags, Diana is hiking today. I repeat,Diana is on the mountain.Caleb just told me. Over.”

My blood ran cold, and before I could think, I snapped the reins and shouted the command. Midnight took off instantly, hooves pounding as I steered her towards the base of the mountain, panic lodged in my throat.

Diana was on the mountain.

Diana was on the mountain, and she’d screamed—crying out for someone, anyone.

My firefly was in danger.

I snapped the reins again with one hand and lifted the walkie up once more, my body moving in time with my steed. “She’s in trouble,” I growled. “I’m going to find her. Over.”

There was nothing but red in my vision as I urged Midnight to a halt and swung off, leading her to a tree. With eased practice, I tied her off on a low hanging branch and moved to the saddle bags, pulling out the satellite phone, a first aid kit, and my pistol.

“I’ll be back, girl,” I told my horse.

Then, I disappeared into the trees to find my woman.

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