Page 84 of Off-Limits Daddy
But then Daddy looked at me again—eyes unfocused, the barest twitch of a smile on his mouth.
Something cracked open inside me. I couldn’t hold it back.
“I love you!” The words ripped free, too loud, too raw. “I love you! Daddy—do you hear me? I love you!”
Every head turned. Even the EMT paused.
And Daddy’s eyes fluttered, just a little.
Then they loaded him up.
Boone laid a hand on my shoulder. "Come sit down. We’ll call Sage. He’ll get you to the hospital."
I nodded, but my knees didn’t feel like they belonged to me. My legs felt useless. Boone guided me to the bench outside the station. Marco handed me a bottle of water. Griff kept watch like I might unravel.
Ten minutes passed. Or a year.
Sage pulled in, jaw tight, worry etched across his face. “Come on,” he said.
I climbed into the passenger seat. Shut the door.
I stared out the window, fingers fisted in my lap. Outside the window, everything looked normal. Birds on a wire. Sunlight skipping across rooftops. But nothing in me felt normal.
And neither of us said a word.
My heart was already at the hospital. Waiting on someone to tell me that the man I loved—the man I hadn’t gotten to love for nearly long enough—was going to be okay.
TWENTY-FIVE
REID
Dim light pooled along the ceiling, casting soft shadows across the beige curtain drawn halfway to the right. A low hum from the fluorescent bulb above, the beep of a monitor off to the side. My head pulsed—dull, manageable, but there washeaviness behind my eyes. Someone had adjusted the bed so I wasn’t lying flat, and judging by the chill at my back, my shirt was gone, swapped out for a flimsy hospital gown. My legs were still in uniform pants, my boots were off. One ankle was taped tight.
Riiiight, the fall.
I blinked slowly. Everything came back in pieces.
Boone shouting. The ladder shifting. That split-second drop.
And then... Ari.
The door clicked open without warning. There wasn’t a knock, or slow lead-in—just Ari, eyes rimmed pink, clutching a canvas bag to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
His shoulders were tight, mouth pressed into a line. His curls looked like fingers had raked through them over and over, not messy, just unsettled—like him.
He spotted me, and something in his face broke wide open.
He crossed the room in five steps and leaned in before I could sit up straighter. Arms sliding around my shoulders, lips brushing my forehead, then the slope of my cheek, the edge of my temple. Soft, frantic kisses like he didn’t know where to land first.
“Hey,” I rasped. “Easy. I’m not going anywhere.”
He laughed under his breath, watery and uneven, but he didn’t pull back. His chest pressed gently to mine, careful around the IV line near my elbow.
“You said it,” I murmured. “Earlier. Outside the rig.”
Ari stilled.
“You said you loved me.” I looked up at him. “Was that the panic talking? Or...?”
