"I'll follow you to the hospital," she called out as they carried me toward the ambulance.
"Actually," Gideon interjected, "Walker needs to debrief you while everything's fresh. It's important for the case."
I silently thanked him for the excuse, even as it tore at my chest.
The ambulance ride was a blur of medical jargon and pain medication. By the time we reached the hospital, the drugs had taken enough of the edge off that I could think more clearly—which was unfortunate, because thinking clearly meant facing what I'd done.
I'd pushed away the best thing that had ever happened to me because I was too much of a coward to admit I didn't know how to love someone the way they needed to be loved.
As soon as they’d sewn me up, I refused the drugs and requested papers to sign myself out.
"Walker will meet you at the back entrance in twenty minutes," Gideon said, his disapproval radiating through every syllable as he handed me a clean shirt. "And for the record, I think you're making the biggest mistake of your life."
"Noted," I replied, carefully threading my injured arm through the sleeve. The doctors had wanted to keep me overnight for observation, but I'd signed the AMA forms despite their protests. It seemed to have taken hours but I couldn't risk Emily showing up, couldn't face the hurt and confusion in her eyes.
"She deserves an explanation, Dion. Not this cowardly disappearing act."
I flinched at the accusation but didn't deny it. "She deserves someone who can give her what she needs."
"And you've decided that's not you based on one argument and her running off? The woman who just watched you take two bullets for her?" Gideon shook his head in disgust. "This isn't like you."
“We’ve done nothing but fight since we met. She doesn’t want a Daddy. She needs a partner, and we both know I can’t give her that."
Gideon stared at me for a long moment. "She called for you. When they were loading her into the ambulance to check her injuries, she kept asking for you."
I grabbed my jacket, ignoring the pain that shot through my shoulder at the movement. "Walker's waiting."
Gideon didn't try to stop me as I walked out, though his silence spoke volumes. The back corridor was quiet, most of the staff occupied with more critical patients. Walker was already there, his expression carefully neutral as he helped me into his truck. Somehow he'd managed to grab the dogs knowing I needed to disappear. I managed to smile at them, while they tried to lick me to death.
"Where to?" he asked once we were clear of the hospital parking lot.
"The cabin," I replied, leaning my head against the window. "I need space to think."
Walker nodded, not asking questions. That was one of the things I'd always appreciated about him—he didn't push when he knew you needed silence.
The drive to Belleair beach took nearly two hours and I hovered between pain and nausea the whole way. By the time we arrived, darkness had fallen completely, the only light coming from the stars overhead and the headlights of Walker's truck as we navigated the narrow dirt road.
"I grabbed some supplies," Walker said as he helped me out of the vehicle. "Food, clean clothes, medical stuff. And I brought the stuff for your boys."
On cue, Anubis and Hades bounded from the back of the truck, circling me with anxious whines, carefully avoiding my injured side as if they sensed my wounds.
"Thanks," I managed, reaching down to scratch Anubis behind the ears. The simple gesture sent fresh pain through my shoulder, but I needed the comfort of their familiar presence.
The cabin was exactly as I'd left it—sparse, functional, isolated. Walker helped me inside, checking that the generator was running and the water was on before setting the supplies on the kitchen counter.
"Gideon's going to keep calling," he warned, pulling out his keys. "And probably show up if you don't answer. I’ll be back every day to check your dressings."
I frowned. “That’s a four hour drive.”
He just stared at me, and I groaned.
Walker studied me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "For what it's worth, I think you're wrong about this. But I also know you well enough to know you won't listen until you're ready."
After he left, I sat in the gathering darkness, listening to the waves crash against the shore beyond the dunes. The dogs settled at my feet, their warm weight grounding me as my mind replayed every moment with Emily—from finding her in that warehouse to the look of devastation on her face as they loaded me into the ambulance.
My phone buzzed constantly. Gideon. Eric. Even Maddox. I texted Gideon once and said I was going to sleep.
I managed to get some water and somehow see to the dogs then I locked the door, climbed into bed, and turned my phone off.
