Page 88 of Stay for Me

“No,” Mags answered, stabbing the knife into the top of his table, the blade going one fourth of the way in. He placed his hand below the heel of my hiking boot, the leather on top now sliced open, and begin wiggling it gently to ease it off me.

“Diana, if you can bend your foot, do it now,” he instructed, his eyes on his work. Denver returned, first aid kit in hand.

All of us watched, the tension in the room thick as I slowly bent my foot down, pointing my toes to the fireplace. Thankfully, the pain wasn’t bad. Not great, but it was manageable. Another plus it wasn’t, in fact, broken. However, my foot was swollen beyond belief.

Mags, on his knees beside the couch, reached over the coffee table to snag the spare pillow on the chair. He placed it on top of the armrest by the fireplace and, ever so gently, eased my foot down. “Good?” he inquired, finally looking at me, his eyes soft.

I nodded, afraid to speak.

Abbie lowered herself to my level, putting her hand on my arm. I twisted my neck to look at hair. Emotion painted her face. “Harmony and Val are rushing here.”

My tongue felt like a thousand pounds as I breathed, “I don’t think—”

Abbie leaned into my space. “Don’t fight this,” she said smoothly. “Let us take care of you.”

“Mags is going to wrap your foot, and when the girls get here, they’ll get you cleaned up,” Denver informed me, handing Mags the first-aid kit. Abbie and I didn’t miss the look shared between the two cowboys.

Then, just for the sake of my own comfort and sanity, Abbie whispered something in my ear. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Thehotwatersteamedup the cozy, rustic bathroom as I sat on the toilet lid, staring at the floor. Val leaned over the edge of the tub, checking the temperature, Harmony on the counter top. Abbie had gone to fetch me some new clothes. Before the girls arrived, Mags had given me some medication for the pain, holding a glass of water to my lips, not letting me do a thing. My protests didn’t mean shit to him. He’d only said my name, leaving the rest unsaid as Denver watched us from across the living room.

When Harmony and Val arrived, the ranch owner immediately went to his wife, kissing her forehead and murmuring something in her ear. Her green eyes widened before they swung over to me, horror and confusion painted over her face.

Of course, before I could let it sink in, Mags shifted, blocking the view and putting his hand on my neck. “You say the word,” he whispered, his voice jagged again, “I’ll send them away. All of them.”

That was ten minutes before I was taken into the bathroom, and everyone was here now—including Chase, and Thomas was on his way.

Apparently, Jigs had done the honors of informing the Sheriff who then notified my paralegal. At this point, I could only assume Emma had been informed and I wouldn’t put it past her to hightail her butt to Hallow Ranch from Denver.

The bathroom was silent, and despite the warmth the water created, I still shivered.

“Alright,” Val said quietly, flicking the water off her hand as I looked up at her. “The bath is ready.”

I nodded and sat up, moving my arms to take my shirt off. I winced, a sharp pain shooting through my right side.

“Whoa, Di. Slow down,” Harmony rasped, her voice soothing as she hopped down from the counter, her Docs hitting the floor softly. She looked at her sister-in-law as she came to me.

“I got it,” I said, shaking my head. “Just sore, that’s all.”

“Diana, look at me,” Harmony ordered.

I tipped my head back, instantly reading the look on her face, the understanding in her blue eyes as her fire red curls created a halo around her head. “Don’t make light of this,” she warned gently. Silence drifted between us. Harmony, more so then anyone else I knew, had endured a lifetime of hell before meeting Mason by chance. She had been tortured, beaten, and raped by her ex-husband. She’d also suffered the loss of her unborn daughter at his hand. There was a reason her voice had a permanent rasp to it, a constant reminder of her past.

Because of her strength and all she’d overcome, I listened to her. “Alright,” I said.

“Now, Val and I are here for you—nothing else,” she began, looking at her sister-in-law, my dear friend. When she looked back to me, she continued. “You absolutely can get undressed by yourself, but speaking from experience, Di, it’s going to hurt—badly.”

A lump formed in my throat.

“You’ve endured enough pain,” she rasped, tears pooling in her eyes.

She had no idea.

I felt my own tears then, my eyes stinging.

“Let us help you,” Val pleaded, coming to us and grabbing my hand, squeezing. Tears were already falling down her cheeks. “Please, Diana.”

Her words—both of their words—had a double meaning behind them, and it broke me. Therefore, my next words drifted from my lips on a broken, cracked whisper. “I don’t know—” My breath hitched. “I don’t know what to do.” My face crumbled then. “I don’t—I can’t—”

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