Page 95 of Billionaire Unreachable: Wyatt

Okay, so the bastard really had bragged aboutallof his victims. “It’s not your fault that you didn’t know, Shelby. Sociopaths are good at manipulating people. I couldn’t prove that you were in danger. Nothing suspicious has happened since the break-in. It was gut instinct for me.”

“I wish I had your instincts,” she replied woefully. “He was stalking me, Wyatt. He just made sure it wasn’t obvious when he was doing it in person instead of on the internet. I think he read every blog and social media post I did and followed every video hoping I’d give out personal clues.”

I’d already figured that out. I wasn’t sure how often he’d been watching her in person, but I wished to hell I’d listened harder to my instincts instead of writing them off as overreactions because it was personal for me.

She continued weakly, “I’m not sure when he decided to target me. I’m assuming it started with the break-in. He hated redheads or any woman who reminded him of his wife, and I apparently looked like her in his mind. He was pure evil, Wyatt. I’m not going to lie and pretend that I’m not glad he’s dead. I am glad that he can’t hurt anyone else.” She paused before she moaned, “Oh, God, why do I hurt so much?”

“Because some asshole kicked the crap out of you,” I said furiously, wishing again that I’d been the one to kill the bastard who had touched her. “We’re here, sweetheart. The painful part will be over soon.”

I’d never been so damn glad to hear the thrum of helicopter blades as I was right now.

Brock hopped into the aircraft and reached for Shelby.

I handed her over reluctantly and followed them inside.

As soon as Brock and I pulled our helmets and goggles off, Chase hit the internal lights.

It was the first time I’d really seen the true injuries to Shelby’s face, and it made me fucking livid.

Her entire face was swollen, and there wasn’t an inch of it that wasn’t purple with bruises.

She was dripping with sweat that was probably mixed with tears of pain, and I could see the real toll the trip to the helicopter had taken on her, but she’d obviously been trying not to complain.

“Fuck!” I cursed before I could stop myself for Shelby’s sake.

Once Brock had gently put her down, I noticed that she was guarding her ribs, and I pulled up her shirt only to see that her entire side was covered with more bruises.

It was a miracle she was even coherent and that she could speak.

“I know it looks bad, Wyatt,” Brock said carefully as he opened his medical pack. “But she’s breathing and she’s conscious.”

She was also in a hell of a lot of pain.

I let Brock handle Shelby’s emergency medical treatment because I wasn’t equipped to do it at the moment. I took her hand and stayed glued to my spot beside her.

“I don’t see a source for all the blood on her shirt,” Brock said shortly.

Chase turned around from the pilot’s seat. “Holy fuck! It’s not coming from Shelby. It’s Wyatt. He took a hit, Brock, and he’s bleeding pretty badly.”

“Oh, God, Wyatt. You were shot!” Shelby whimpered in an alarmed voice.

“Hospital, Chase!” I ordered. “I know that I took a hit, but I’m sure it’s just a flesh wound. I’m worried about Shelby. Let’s get moving.”

My injury was insignificant.

I’d felt the sting of the bullet, but I’d ignored it.

I wasn’t dying from it, and nobody was touching me until Shelby was treated, out of pain, and safe.

Wyatt

“Do I even want to ask how in the hell you ended up with a bullet wound or how you probably saved Shelby’s life?” Kaleb asked wryly the following afternoon in the lobby of a Billings hospital.

Despite the way she looked right now, Shelby’s injuries weren’t life-threatening, and she was being discharged. She wanted to go home, and since I’d be there to watch her, I wasn’t about to argue. She’d be more comfortable there. They’d kept her overnight because she’d lost consciousness. They’d also done extensive X-rays. The worst of her injuries were her bruised ribs. She had internal contusions that were going to hurt like hell until they healed.

They’d treated the gunshot wound to my arm. Like I’d assumed, it was a simple flesh wound that had bled profusely.

I’d told Brock and Chase to head out as soon as we knew that Shelby was going to be okay. I’d stayed in her room the night before because I had a hard time letting her out of my sight. It didn’t matter that her kidnapper was dead. I had to convincemyselfthat she was going to be okay.

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