Page 93 of Finding Home with You

“You’re right,” I say, the words catching in my throat. “I should be with her.”

He nods. “Go, we got this,” he says, gesturing to the body that’s still lying at the end of the pier. “Call me and let me know how she is,” he adds.

I turn to look at him, see the worry and concern on his face. Although Erin and I have something serious here, something that means more to me than anything else in the world, I know Finn has feelings for her too. Feelings that might be different to mine, but don’t mean that he doesn’t care for her, possibly even love her a little.

“Okay,” I choke out. “But let me know what you find here.”

“Just go, Ryan,” he says, pushing me in the direction of the ambulance.

I jog down the pier, thumping on the now closed doors of the ambulance just as they start the engine. The back door opens and the paramedic takes one look at me before gesturing for me to get in.

“Ryan,” Erin cries, her unbroken arm reaching for me. “Oh my god,” she says, pulling me toward her as soon as our hands touch.

“I’m so sorry,” I say as I bury my face against her chest. “So sorry.”

I feel Erin’s fingers in my hair as I stare down at her broken arm, now missing it’s cast but with a huge bandage wrapped around her palm and thumb where the bullet fragment hit her. Just seeing it makes me want to throw up all over again, as a million other possibilities for how this could have all gone down flash before my eyes.

God, I promised I’d protect her.

“Ryan,” comes a male voice, “we need to check her over.”

A hand on my shoulder gently eases me back and glance over at the paramedic who’s offering a small smile. I nod, moving around so I’m sitting behind Erin now, the fingers of her good hand, still laced with mine.

“She’s pregnant,” I blurt out as though suddenly remembering there was another person involved in all this.

“I know,” the paramedic says, nodding. “We’ll check everything’s okay, don’t worry.”

The trip to the hospital is a blur, as is Erin getting checked over by the doctors, her injury getting sutured and her arm getting recast in a removable plastic cast this time, so they can check her bullet wound in two week’s time. Eventually though, everyone leaves and it’s just the two of us sitting in a tiny cubicle.

“You okay?” Erin asks as she starts to get dressed, her clothes relatively clean after her coat took most of the fallout. I shake my head, amazed that they’re even letting her go home after everything. “Ryan,” she says. “Come here.”

I look up at her, see her standing before me, her arms out as though welcoming me. I swallow hard, wishing I could just man the fuck up and be here for her, be strong like she is.

“Baby,” she whispers.

And that’s all it takes as I step toward her and pull her into my arms. We stand together, arms wrapped tightly around each other as I bury my face in her neck.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, her hand running up and down my back. “I’m okay, the baby’s okay,” she continues. I nod, still unable to say anything. “But you are scaring me,” she says, her mouth against my ear. “Where’s my big strong detective?”

I pull back, scrubbing a hand down my face before looking at her. “I’m sorry,” I say again, the apology for so many things.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she says, taking my hands in hers. “It’s okay, Ryan.”

I shake my head. “No,” I say. “It’s not. Look at what happened, Erin,” I blurt out, letting go of her hand as I brush my fingers down her cheek. “You could have been killed,” I whisper.

“But I wasn’t,” she says, stepping closer. “I’m okay, Ryan, really.”

“Jesus, Erin,” I say, pulling her close as I lean down and press a kiss to her lips. “I thought I’d lost you,” I murmur, my mouth against hers. “I can’t lose you, baby, ever.”

Erin kisses me back, her mouth hard against mine, before she pulls back and cups my face in her hands, wincing a little as the newest pain registers. “And I can’t lose you either, Ryan. But we are both here now and Anthony’s gone,” she says. “He’s gone.”

I nod, knowing how true her words are. “Do you really think this was your father?” I ask, still confused as to whether it could be. Whether that hit he organized over the phone wasn’t for me after all, but for Anthony.

“I do,” she says nodding. “But just to be sure, you and I are going to go and see him.”

“Erin,” I say, not wanting her any more involved with this.

“No,” she says firmly. “We are, Ryan,” she says. “And I’m not arguing with you about this.”

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