Page 82 of The Moments You Were Mine
I hung up on him for the first time in my entire life.
When I found Fallon already stuffed into an ER cubicle, she wasn’t falling apart, but there was a haunted look in her eyes. And it hit me how much this entire damn day must have brought back her worst moments. I’d had guns aimed my way, been in the heat of battle, and the shots today had only panicked me because of Fallon. Because of the innocent people being targeted.
But Fallon wasn’t a SEAL, and the last time she’d had a gun pointed at her, she’d witnessed someone die. As the hours went by, while the doctors kept her for observation and waited for test results, she started to wilt. It was more than exhaustion I read in the slope of her shoulders. This was that damned weight of responsibility she was good at taking on. This time for some asshole who’d come for her and the ranch.
What I wanted—no, needed—was to take her home, order an entire team to surround her house, and lock her away until we caught the bastard doing this. But she’d never let me. She’d hate it if I caged her, and I didn’t know what that meant for either of us once I finally got her home.
Every time my phone buzzed in my pocket, I cursed, having to leave her to take the damn call, having to return to the cold, hard facts while dealing with the sheriff, the security team, and my dad when all I wanted to do was pull her into my arms and insist that I’d make everything okay.
But could I? I hadn’t protected her again today. She’d been out in the open…
I shook my head as I returned to her room, for what felt like the hundredth time, in time to see Fallon being wheeled away for yet another scan. When she gave me her phone and asked me to handle her dad, it puzzled me for longer than it should have.
For as long as I’d known Fallon, she’d craved her father’s attention. She hadn’t ever wanted him telling her what to do, but she’d wanted his love and affection—at least, the Fallon I’d known as a child had. But then again, she hadn’t been that lost, abandoned teen in a long time. Three years ago, I’d clung to the idea of her still being young in order to save myself from a fall I’d subconsciously known was coming. But she was a grown woman, the owner of a ranch where she oversaw hundreds of employees, and she wouldn’t want her daddy rushing in to save her. Not now. Now, it would only make her feel like she’d failed.
It was another thing Fallon and I had in common. The weight of our regrets hung on us, regardless of whether we were truly responsible for them or not.
Just as I started to return Rafe’s text, the phone vibrated with a call, his image filling the screen. I answered, cut him off when he demanded to talk to her, and gave him as much information as I could. She was stable. They were running tests.
“Damnit,” he’d demanded. “Why the hell did I have to hear about all of this from your dad today? The tractor accident, the cabin, and now this? Why didn’t she tell me herself?”
“The last thing Fallon wants is for you to come running back from Australia to take care of this.”
Rafe was quiet. “She’s always been too damn independent for her own good. But I promised her she wouldn’t ever face anything alone again, and I mean to keep that promise.”
“She’s not fucking alone.” The surety and fury in my tone must have told him more than I’d intended, because his response turned sharp.
“Neither of you are kids, Parker, but—”
“Stop before you say something both of us will regret. I won’t let Fallon be hurt again on my watch, Rafe. I’m not saying that out of some damn obligation to you or my dad. I’m saying that because she means more to me than any person on this planet.”
That moment when I’d thought she’d been shot swam in front of me yet again. The absolute desolation I’d felt. I never wanted to feel that way again. If it meant breaking old promises I’d made as a clueless teenager, so be it. I didn’t know what it meant for Fallon or me or our futures, but I wouldn’t let another day slip by without facing the truth, without facing the risks loving someone presented with courage and bravery—and Fallon.
“I see.” Rafe’s voice was deep, full of emotions. “That asshole JJ did a number on her, Parker.”
“I know.” What I didn’t say was that I’d done a number on her too. I’d added to her scars, and I hated myself for it. Rafe may have promised her he’d never let her face anything bad alone again, but right now, with the stench of antiseptic surrounding me, I vowed I’d never hurt her again.
“With Theo thrust upon you, your life has been tossed up in the air,” Rafe said.
I ran a hand over my head. I hadn’t even thought about Theo when I’d been thinking about Fallon. My emotions and plans were all over the goddamn place. Dad had said sometimes a grenade landed in your life, and it was only in the wreckage that you saw what it had brought you. I understood that a bit better today than I had a month ago. That Parker, the one who hadn’t had his life torn apart, would never have felt the love I had now for Theo, the pride I’d had in teaching him to ride his bike, or the pure joy of snuggling with him at night while we read books. The old me would never have kissed Fallon and burned from the inside out with a passion and intensity that topped the exhilaration of a skydive in midnight skies.
When I finally responded, my voice was thick. “What I’m telling you about Fallon has nothing to do with Theo or the way my career is up in the air. What I feel for Fallon…”
Rafe’s sudden laughter cut me off, surprising the shit out of me.
“Damnit, I’ve lost another bet with my wife because of you,” he said over more chuckles.
“Excuse me?”
“She told me a decade ago I had to pull my head out of my ass and see what was happening right in front of my eyes with you and my daughter.”
“Nothing has happened,” I quickly interjected. I didn’t want him to think I’d gone back on the promise I’d made when Fallon was fourteen. “We’ve been friends. That’s it.”
It was the truth. Nothing had happened that day she’d kissed me in the bar. Nothing had happened until one world-altering moment and a cataclysmic kiss of a lifetime had changed everything.
“I appreciate the sacrifice,” he said with dry sarcasm. “If someone had come along and told me Sadie couldn’t be mine, I would have pounded them into the ground. But you, letting Fallon experience life and have a normal college experience, giving her a chance to grow into a strong, vibrant woman without the intensity of a soulmate kind of love blindfolding her and limiting her options…that tells me more than anything just how much you care about her.”
Love. Soulmates. The words hung in the air and sent a chill up my back. Not because they felt wrong but because they felt so damn right.
