Page 81 of Shadow Justice

“Me, Hopper, and Sweet Blue, who is getting whatever steak dinner Roni thinks is appropriate for a dog who helped save your life.”

Holly’s eyes filled before she could stop them. “He was scratching at the door.”

“He was trying to get to you.”

“I thought maybe you’d let Allen up.” Her brow furrowed. “I was so confused.”

“God, Holly. I never should have left you.” The guilt in his voice pulled at her heart. Reid looked wrecked, more than he had when she first opened her eyes. He sat again but stayed forward in the chair, one hand still holding hers as if he expected her to vanish if he loosened his grip.

That’s when she realized what a mess he was. There were bruises forming along one side of his face and a tear in his shirt at the shoulder. His knuckles were scraped. The side of his neck had a red mark that looked like it would darken by morning.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

His eyebrows drew together. “You have a concussion and stitches, and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

“Yes.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head. “Seeing you on that couch…” He rubbed his free hand over his face. “Holly, for a minute I thought you were dead.”

The honesty settled through her, heavier than the medication and sharper than the pain. She swallowed. “How did Allen get in?”

“He came through the alley while I was out front with Hopper. Hopper had come to warn us because Claire showed him the punch card. The message reminded him of something Allen had said after Emma’s trial, and Hopper told me he’d seen Allen in the alley.”

A soft huff escaped her lips. “I was right about Hopper, wasn’t I?”

“You were.” Reid leaned closer, and the strain in his voice made her look at him despite the headache. “I shouldn’t have gotten distracted. I sent you upstairs because I thought I was taking care of you, then I walked outside and left the rear access vulnerable. Allen almost killed you.”

“No.”

His jaw flexed. “Holly⁠—”

“No,” she repeated with as much force as her aching head allowed. “You went outside because Hopper was there and he might have been the killer. You listened to him while he told you the truth. That’s not distraction. You believed a wounded man might be more than the worst explanation. Sounds like I’m rubbing off on you.”

He looked down at their joined hands. “I still left you exposed.”

“Allen chose what Allen did. That’s on him. And you broke down my apartment door to stop him. Thank you for that, by the way. The landlord isn’t happy, but I think she’ll let it pass since you saved her life.”

His mouth curved, small and reluctant, and the sight of it eased the awful feeling in her chest. “I’ll fix it.”

“I assumed.”

He looked like he’d aged years since she’d left him to go upstairs and feed her dog. She remembered his voice coming through the fog in her head, telling Allen to put the gun down. She remembered Blue’s snarl. And then Reid’s hands had been on her face, gentle and urgent, asking her what happened while the room moved in strange angles around her.

“You stayed,” she said.

He looked startled. “Of course I did.”

Once, there had been another morning, a different bed, and a version of Holly who’d woken and found him gone. That had shaped more of her life than she had wanted to admit. It had taught her to keep certain hopes boxed away, to build safe places from wood and brick and coffee and rules, to trust routines more than promises.

“Is it only because I’m injured?”

His brows crashed together and he huffed, indignant. “I’ll write that off to the concussion. You know better than that, Holly Bristol.”

He sat beside a hospital bed with her blood on his sleeve and fear and guilt still clinging to him, looking at her as if no one could make him leave her ever again.

“I don’t want to waste more time being careful about the truth,” she said. “I’m concussed, not confused.” She held his gaze, refusing to let the throbbing in her head or the fear of what might have happened if it weren’t for him still shivering in her body steal this from her. “Look, I love you, and I’m too tired to pretend I don’t. There are too many regrets between us already, and that stops now. We have a future to plan, and you still have to master the espresso machine.”

Reid went very still, and for a few seconds, she worried she’d finally managed to scare the man who’d faced down a killer with a gun. Then he lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to her knuckles. The breath he released against her skin trembled.