Page 136 of Fire Island
“I did. He’s standing sentry over the other guy.”
She huffs a strangled cry of relief, and I rise to my feet. “Come on, Em will be waiting.”
She holds a hand up as her face crumples, her body still shaking.
“I just—” She turns to the side, losing her stomach to the floor.
Shock is setting in, and she’s taken a beating. Bloody cuts litter her chest and neck and shoulders. Christ, I should revive the asshole just to kill him all over again.
But I didn’t kill him.
I’m not the hero in this story.
Evie is.
Lord knows she’s saved me more times than I can count. In ways nobody’s been able to for the last twenty years. I lean down and scoop her into my arms, wincing as the wound in my shoulder burns. But I don’t care. “No arguing, baby girl. This is how you’re leaving this old hut. Safe and in my arms. And the second we cross that threshold”—I nod to the weathered front door—“that’s exactly where you’re going to stay.”
Fine hands sink into my beard, pulling my mouth down to hers. Hovering, not quite touching. “Sounds like a promise, Callum McCreary.”
“Hell.” I sink my face into her hair and groan. Breathing her in for a heartbeat, I lift my head to find her searching eyes. “It’s the only one I’m ever going to make you keep.”
We cross the threshold, not bothering to look back. As we near the spot where I left Reese, Evie wriggles in my arms. “Can I borrow a shirt?”
I let her down, pulling my shirt from my back. She slips it on, buttoning up a few buttons in the center. Her fingers still coated in red, she studies them briefly.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I say softly, taking those fine little writer’s hands in my own. They may be small, but they are formidable. Infallible. It’s no wonder that, between her incredible mind and these pretty little digits, she’s an author who reaches hearts and minds. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Evie baby.”
I hold her to my chest, kissing the crown of her head as the first tears fall.
All choked up, I stay holding her until the emotion clears and her body wrapped around mine is all that registers.
“You two need a room?” A lilt-lined voice reaches us.
Reese.
I chuckle into her hair, and we put space between us.
Reese reaches the area we stand in, dragging the still unconscious guy behind him with both hands. “Was wondering how long you were going to be. Don’t tell me you had an unnecessary pit stop while I was on guard duty.”
I double-check the guy is still breathing.
Fuck, that’s the last thing I need, another tortured soul on my hands.
I lean around Reese to see the rise and fall of the guy’s chest.
Still breathing.
Thank fuck.
“No pit stops, but I do need to wash up a little,” Evie says.
“There’s a waterhole a little way to the north,” Reese offers, waving a hand in that direction, like this is our first time on our own damn island.
“Take that fucker to the beach and meet Em.” I pull the radio, still miraculously attached to my hip by its metal clasp, off and hand it to him. “We’ll meet you there in a bit.”
“Sure. Come on, fucker.” He slides the radio into his back pocket and walks south, dragging the guy behind him.
He’s going to have a sore head when he comes to.
