Three Reckless Words: Chapter 26

“Winnie, stay with me. I love you.”

Those words sear my throat like a prayer to a God who won’t listen. I know what it feels like now when a man throws himself down, begging for divine intervention, everything hanging by a thread.

And all I can give her right now is the truth.

Truth and a smile.

Even when she’s worn ragged in this terrifyingly fragile state, she still tastes like honey. Hard to believe, but she settles against my chest like she’s content to stay there forever, a small smile on her face.

Seeing her like this with her hair matted, scratches and bug bites all over her arms, her face too pale and still somehow flushed, it’s enough to turn my insides liquid.

I fucking found her.

If it wasn’t for those bees making noises that could rival a jet engine, I might have lost her for good. I searched for hours, tracking deeper into the woods, far off the trail, using an old historic map on my phone from the days when a company came out here clearing trees and looking for coal to mine.

The paths are long overgrown, but barely traceable in some areas if you stop and look.

When I heard that racket, I followed, mostly out of curiosity.

Now, I press her face against my shoulder, loving when she sighs.

“You… you smell like Archer.” She slurs her words.

“I am Archer, Sugarbee. I’m here,” I tell her, but either she doesn’t hear or she doesn’t process.

She just lets out another long, slow, chest-heaving sigh.

“I miss Archer.”

“I missed you too,” I whisper, knowing she won’t hear it.

I don’t care.

There’ll be plenty of time later to laugh about how out of it she is, after we’ve escaped this damn forest.

At least I’ve got the extra gear, courtesy of her old man bringing in the best police search and rescue resources in the whole state.

I hate to admit it’s made this hunt easier.

Yes, Carroll Emberly is still a first-rate fucknut for helping cause this disaster, but he’s also man enough to own his mistakes. Possibly just in time to save his daughter’s life.

“Winnie?” I say when her eyes close, shaking her gently. I’m no doctor, but I can tell she’s gravely ill, and you can’t let people this sick fade before they get medical care. “Stay with me, woman. Don’t sleep yet.”

She stirs, nestling closer, but at least she’s still conscious.

Still breathing.

I try to stop myself from imagining what might have happened if I hadn’t gotten here in time.

I’m doing a terrible job of it.

The only thing I can picture when I close my eyes is what would’ve happened if we’d lost her for another night.

She’s fucking burning up. Her skin feels like clothes just out of the washer, clammy and hot.

“Stay with me,” I urge, climbing over a large fallen branch as I head back the way I came. At some point, I’ll have to shift her onto my back.

I’m about a mile out from the nearest group and real help, but I like having her here, cradled against my chest.

I guess it appeals to my insane inner caveman, the lunatic who needs to hold her, to feel her, to have her warm sweet breath against my neck so I can know she’s alive.

I’m not her knight in shining armor.

I’m one more culprit who drove her away, and now I’m racing against time to save her, to put her back together so I can apologize and tell her she’s everything.

She is my gravity.

And even if she decides she can’t be, if I’ve hurt her too much… she still needs to hear it when she’s lucid.

I need one chance—just one—to tell Winnie Emberly she’s turned me into a madman.

Forever obsessed.

Forever lovesick to my soul.

Goddamn.

I’m just glad I noticed that boot print before I turned off toward the distant buzzing.

When I radioed my findings back to the command center, the sheriff in charge told me it looked old, stamped into the ground for days.

Thank God I followed my instincts instead.

Winnie stirs again.

Her auburn hair hangs damp with sweat.

“Am I dead?” she asks.

“No,” I tell her as gently as possible. “You’re in heaven.”

“H-heaven? This feels like a dream.”

“You’re awake, sweetheart. You’re alive and well.” I risk a look at her to see she’s gazing up at me, her eyes unfocused. She sees me, yes, but she’s not registering that I’m really here holding her.

She reaches up to trace my jaw under my beard, the palms of her hands burning.

“You’re so handsome,” she whispers. “Why lie to me? You… you can’t be here.”

“No lie,” I tell her again, but it’s no use.

She’s trapped inside her fever and whatever hallucinations started before I swept her up.

Hot tears are swimming in her eyes.

I want to wipe every single one of them away.

Her voice cracks as she speaks.

“I… I love you, Archer. If I got to spend the rest of my life with you, if I could marry you, if I wasn’t dying… I would. I’m sorry,” she whispers.

It floors me.

Absolutely short-circuits my brain.

Shit.

If I wasn’t hauling her to safety as fast as I can without tripping, I’d have to stop and stare into space to process what she’s saying. It’s too fucking enormous.

The rest of her life.

Not just a few weeks, a month, a year.

Not just the hottest, strangest summer of our lives, bursting with stolen kisses and fatalistic pleasure.

Her whole life.

Fuck me.

The sweat pouring down my face in this heat must be getting in my eyes. They sting like hell.

“If my dad would just buzz off,” she slurs, “and if my life wasn’t a wreck, I would choose you. Always. Every time.”

“Winnie.” My voice breaks.

This wasn’t where I planned on making a big declaration of love—hell, I hadn’t planned on any declaration at all—but the words throttle my lungs and I need to get them out.

Right the fuck now.

Her breath flowers across my neck and she grabs at my shirt.

“I’m so sorry for pushing you away. I was wrong, Winnie. Shutting you out was dumb as hell. I see that now, I—” I’m not good at apologies, even when I know there’s a decent chance she won’t remember this once she’s better.

Goddammit, though, I need to say it anyway.

Especially when I already told her the rest once.

And once wasn’t nearly enough.

“I love you,” I growl. “I love you because you’re a free spirit. Whether you know it or not, you came and set me free, and I love you for that. I’ll never forgive myself for seeing it so late, for putting you through this, but fuck.”

She shifts in my arms. The tip of her nose feels oddly cold against my throat when the rest of her is fire.

It’s damp, and when I glance down, I see she’s crying.

“I don’t make the same mistake twice. If you’ll have me, after this is over, I’ll keep you, Sugarbee. I’ll keep you for the rest of your life.” I don’t care if it means I have to bend time and space and science to keep her alive.

I’ll be here for every breath she has, all her days.

I’ll be the man she can count on to never let her go.

Next to Colt, she’s more important than anyone else in the world. I know she shares that feeling, and I don’t care if she’s too sick to say it or even comprehend it right now.

She understands, though, and I love it.

Just like I love her.

It’s stunning that it took a wake-up call this horrible to beat some sense through my thick damn skull.

Before she went missing, I was walking around with my head in the clouds, adoring her and needing her and wanting her but never knowing how much I loved her.

If it takes me ten years, I will find a way to prove it.

Every day, I will fight for her.

But she’s still crying, and I hold her tighter.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper softly. “Tell me where it hurts.”

“No, it’s just… why does this have to be a dream?” Her voice hitches. There’s such anguish it almost stops me dead.

“Winnie, listen. You’re not dreaming. I’m really here, holding you, taking you to get some help.” I shift, propping my leg against a rock and freeing an arm so I can cup her cheek. “I’m as real as my beard, sweetheart.”

Her fingers feel so small and warm as she clings to my hand, her cheeks slick with tears.

Her chest heaves.

If taking her pain ten times over would ease her anguish in the slightest, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I was dreaming, though. I dreamed you’d say that for so long. I wanted you to say it, to tell me you loved me. But now you did and it’s all in my head.” Her crying intensifies, wet sobs that rack her entire body. “I wanted it for real.”

“It is real. Winnie, look at me.” I turn her head to look into her eyes. “Do you see that? I love you. This is real.”

Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are glazed with tears as she looks up.

“I hope I never forget your face.” She laughs.

It’s no use.

The sooner I get her to a hospital, the faster she’ll have her brain back.

I’ll tell her a second time, and she’ll believe me. It’ll be easier after I’ve done it once. I test the words again.

“I love you.”

Those three words are so fucking heavy they almost break me.

I’ve said them to Mom, of course, but that’s an old habit. A kiss on her cheek, a quick ‘love you’ at her house before I grab Colt and go.

Back when Rina and I were together, I said it to her, too.

Not often, admittedly.

More at the beginning, when we tried to convince ourselves it was true and our cursed relationship could work. Back when we were naïve.

Then it faded and stopped.

I don’t know if I was the first one to give up on that magic phrase or if it was her.

Regardless, the love ended before our marriage. I haven’t said it to another woman since.

Over ten damn years without conjuring those words, and here I am, sputtering my love to a girl who’s barely conscious.

If my heart wasn’t pounding through my chest with real fear thudding through my veins, I’d find it funny.

“Hang tight, just a little while longer. I love you,” I tell her again.

She’s practically asleep now. The crying probably exhausted her, but the ghost of a smile touches her lips as she whispers, “I love you, too.”

It takes too long for her to wake up.

Too many hours where I’m stuck by her side in the hospital room—like hell I was settling for the waiting room and her family didn’t fight me—watching IVs stuck in the back of her hand as she lies under a thin blue sheet.

I only break the silence to text her friend, Lyssie, letting her know the nightmare is over.

The whisper of her breath is the only sound in this room.

I count her breaths, too, because they’re my only assurance she’s still alive.

The nurse said she was horribly dehydrated. She’d gotten a nasty stomach bug from some water she drank. They gave her meds and now they’re replacing her nutrients or something.

I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.

All I know is I’m not moving until she wakes up.

My own exhaustion kicks in and I nod off a few times into the morning. Grey light filters through the blinds when I lift my head from the corner of her bed.

She’s awake, watching me with a tired smile.

Relief floods my system.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. How you feeling?” I pull up my chair and take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, yourself. How long have you been there?”

“A few hours.”

“All night, you mean.” She rolls her eyes. “You look rough.”

“Nice to see you too.”

Another tiny smile touches the corner of her mouth, and her fingers tighten around mine. “I didn’t think you’d ever come.”

“You couldn’t have kept me away with a chainsaw. I was ready to cut down every square foot of that forest until I found you.”

“I didn’t take you for a big outdoorsman.” Her smile widens.

“Neither did I until you went AWOL.” I stare at her face for a second, reassuring myself there’s color in her cheeks. “You scared me shitless.”

She purses her lips. “I blame the tent.”

“What?”

“The reason I got lost. The stupid tent. If it didn’t suck so much because I bought it used, I would’ve just stayed there all night instead of trying to find that RV park.” She grimaces, and it’s so damn cute I have to stop myself from kissing her. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“If I was worried?” I thread my fingers through hers, and though she tenses at the contact, she doesn’t pull away. “Winnie, do you know how fucking crazy I’ve been?”

Her smile turns down. Just one side, like she’s holding the expression back in a losing battle.

“I’m really sorry.”

“No. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, I was—” This is coming out wrong. I’m supposed to be comforting her, reassuring her about us, but instead she’s just feeling guilty for running. I kiss her knuckles. “I know why you left. I get it.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I never wanted anyone to fuss over me.”

“I know, and I’m not blaming you. I’m blaming me. I’m just relieved as hell you’re okay.” When she doesn’t flinch, I brush her hair back and trail a knuckle over her cheek.

She turns her eyes to me.

When I lean in for a kiss, she puts the arm with the IV around my neck and pulls me down.

I swear, if she wasn’t here recuperating in a hospital bed, I’d shut the door and show her just how relieved I am she’s okay. For now, I check my instincts, very damn reluctantly.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she whispers again.

“I always will, even if all you want is to punch me in the face.” I shake my head, a lump hardening in my throat. This woman makes me too emotional. “I’m sorry I made you feel abandoned.”

She looks down at our joined hands on the pale-blue sheets.

“I don’t remember what was real and what was just a dream. You found me and carried me out. But you said so much.” The redness in her cheeks deepens.

“No dream,” I say. “I meant every word, Sugarbee.”

Her breath catches. I know she’s about to ask me to repeat what I said then.

I steel myself to tell her again since she’s fully aware—but a knock at the door interrupts us.

“Come in,” Winnie calls.

“Oh, Winnie, you’re awake!” A small, faded woman who looks like she’s been dipped in beige walks in. Linda Emberly, Winnie’s mother, I’m guessing.

She rushes to her side, leaving me alone to face the tallest pile of misery I’ve ever met. Carroll Emberly.

We might’ve spoken for ten or fifteen minutes at the command center before the wild hunt for her began. We reached a truce. After I brought her back, he agreed to drop the charges, but that doesn’t mean I like him after the enormous shit he stirred.

I don’t bother playing nice.

Winnie gasps when she sees her father and squeezes my hand so tight it almost hurts. Her mom throws her arms around her neck.

She just looks between her parents stiffly.

“I regret the recent unpleasantry,” Carroll says flatly, clearing his throat after a heavy moment where I’m not sure if he’ll ever speak.

Hell, I don’t know if he’s talking to Winnie or me, but it doesn’t matter. This stuffy turkey fuck has a mountain of apologies to make.

Winnie says nothing, lying there more guarded than ever.

She tolerates her mother’s presence while the older woman blubbers all over her, hanging on and wailing, but she’s still just glaring at her dad.

Waiting.

“Honey.” He clears his throat and steps forward, but when her expression hardens, he stops. “I mean it. You can’t fathom how truly, deeply sorry I am for how we’ve treated you. If I’d known it would lead to this…”

He swallows and shrugs.

“What? You would have treated me like a human being?” she asks coldly.

Silence.

My fist shakes at my side, hungry to grab this prick and push him right out of the room. I don’t care if it gets me handcuffed for assaulting a state official or whatever the fuck.

“I should have considered my choices more carefully, Wynne. I wish to God I had, but… I was proud. Too focused on doing what was best for the family, for—”

“For you,” Winnie spits.

Goddamn, that’s my girl.

I have to bite my cheek to avoid grinning at the way Carroll’s head drops.

“Almost losing you was the revelation I shouldn’t have needed,” he growls, swallowing thickly. “When you were lost out there, when everyone was looking, I had a lot of time to reflect. My anger, my pride, my arrogance, it almost got you killed. Regrettably, I never knew how foolish I could possibly be until my actions nearly cost me my own daughter.”

Guilt is pure sorcery, transforming the biggest assholes into weeping kittens.

I know it well.

Later, when they’re gone, I’ll show her how sorry I still am for making her feel like she doesn’t belong in my life.

“Holden told me what he did. He broke the law and our trust. I warned him there will be criminal charges if he ever comes near you again. I won’t be on speaking terms with Senator Corban for the foreseeable future,” Carroll continues after another long pause where there’s nothing but Winnie’s rough breathing and Linda’s awful sobs.

They may be bad people, yes, but they’re sincere.

Winnie never told me much about her parents’ marriage and I had to read between the lines, but now I’ve seen enough to understand.

I see why she couldn’t marry Holden, even before he came stomping around, clinging to her like a fucking comfort blanket.

“I don’t care about Holden. What about him?” Winnie whispers, nodding in my direction. “I care about what you’re going to do to the man who saved my life.”

“Yes, Archer Rory.” Carroll looks me full in the face for the first time.

He’s an egomaniac to the core, but I can see the toll this has taken. He looks old and shrunken, all the lofty authority he normally wields like a sword has turned into a giant limp noodle.

To think I ever felt threatened by this goon and his stupid damn antitrust probe.

“No man will ever be more worthy,” he says.

Huh?

I stare at him in shock.

“I see it now, Mr. Rory. You did your utmost to save Wynne’s life. Since I can never repay you, rest assured that I won’t be standing in your way.”

“You can repay him by ending the probe,” Winnie snaps. “And then stay the hell out of our life.”

Our life.

Fucking chills.

Nothing has ever sounded so divine on her lips.

“Yes, well, I’m withdrawing all open inquiries into Higher Ends’ business practices immediately,” he says, glancing back at her. This time, he walks closer and stops by her side, almost reaching out to take her hand before changing his mind. His eyes flick around the room, almost panicked. “As noted, I’m severing ties with Senator Corban as well. He knew what his son was capable of, and as far as I’m concerned, he was complicit in Holden’s cruelty.”

That doesn’t surprise me. Senators don’t wind up where they are with great moral compasses. I doubt Holden or his father could find true north much faster than the tortured monster in front of me.

What surprises me is the way Winnie’s eyes fill with tears.

“Really?” she whispers.

He nods decisively and turns to me.

“If you’d like, Mr. Rory, I’m prepared to go public with property damage claims on Higher Ends’ behalf. Holden told me the truth, so the proof is ironclad. I’ll ensure he repays every penny owed.”

Winnie waves her sobbing mother off to one side so she can look at her dad with a clear view. He glances down at our linked fingers but says nothing.

“I’ll discuss it with my brothers and let you know later. Right now, all that matters is she’s safe, and she needs rest. So if you’ll kindly wrap this up…”

Linda bursts out sobbing again as her husband takes the hint.

With halting steps, he marches his wife out of the room, and the air becomes easier to breathe again.

Colt’s waiting at home when I get back around ten o’clock in the morning.

Last night, I called Mom to sleep over and watch him, but she had to leave this morning for her art group. I find my boy alone, staring at his phone. He drops it in his lap the instant I walk into the room.

“How’s Winnie?” he asks eagerly.

For a second, he looks so grown-up it makes my throat tighten.

Only thirteen and the kid’s a damn mini-me with twice my maturity at his age.

“She’s good, Son. She rested up and she was looking much better when I left.”

I texted him brief messages about her progress last night, but I guess he needed to hear me say it to be certain.

I can’t blame him. Typing lies is easy enough, but your face tells things you can’t hide.

“Holy crap… thank God!” He fist pumps the air. “I was watching TikToks about people who went missing, all the bad stuff that can happen…”

I can’t help smiling when I rush over.

I drag him up in a bear hug and hold him so tight my shoulders ache.

I need to hold my kindhearted, nervous boy.

I need to banish his fear.

Hell, maybe we should be hugging like this more often, even if I know how much teenagers become allergic to it. I’m sure he needs it as much as I do.

I feel the way he exhales slowly, the fear draining out of him.

“She’ll be okay, Colt,” I say. “She was dehydrated and delirious, but she’s awake now. She’s getting plenty of fluids. Do you want to visit later? I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“Sure,” he says, his voice muffled. He doesn’t let go, and neither do I. “Is it true you found her in the woods?”

“Yeah. She was hanging out by some bees. I picked her up and carried her back to the rescue team.”

He laughs loudly.

“Bees? Damn, that’s Winnie, all right. Cool, Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He pulls back and looks up at me with the biggest smile I’ve seen him wearing in ages.

He doesn’t have to look too far to meet my eyes anymore.

He’s been growing like a thistle all summer, and though he’s awkward and gangly, I know he’ll grow into his own tall body soon enough.

I couldn’t be happier he’s my flesh and blood.

Later, we’re on our way out to the hospital when I notice another vehicle following us. I’m scowling before Colt says a word, annoyed how I know it’ll cut in front of us.

By the time we’re in the parking lot, Rina’s standing next to her Jeep, waiting.

The way she’s standing makes me wary. She’s all tucked in, looking at us with both her hands clasped in front of her.

“Wait in the car a sec,” I tell Colt before striding over.

We haven’t spoken since our meeting at that little coffee shop where she told me all about her reasons for coming back, and how she was almost angry enough to destroy the bees before Holden beat her to it.

I don’t know what else she has to say.

This certainly isn’t the time or place.

“Not a good time, Ri,” I tell her as I approach.

A strand of chestnut hair falls over her face and she brushes it back. I think I spy a new tattoo on her wrist, an intricate mesh of fine lines I can’t decipher.

“Colt told me about Winnie,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

“She’ll be fine. Nothing to worry about,” I clip.

“Oh, I’m glad. I know Colt was pretty scared.”

I glance back at our son, who’s still strapped in the passenger seat, staring at his phone and pretending he’s not watching us every chance he gets.

Another reason to try to keep this civil.

“What did he tell you?”

“Not much. He didn’t know a ton when he called last night.”

Damn, that’s a first, calling his mom because he was worried?

I know I was too busy to take his calls or help his anxiety much beyond sending the occasional update, but shame still creeps through me.

He’s my son. I should’ve done better.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

She sighs. “Look, I know I’m hardly your favorite person right now, but I’ll only be a second. I emailed you those photos I took of Holden Corban attacking those bee box things. I don’t know if you’re going after him legally, but if you are, it’s proof. And, you know, a gesture of goodwill.”

I wait for more, near certain that’s not why she’s here.

“And?” I prompt.

“…and there’s one more thing, yeah,” she says. No shit. “I was just offered a new art job in Chicago.”

The fuck? The blood drains from my head as I stare at her.

“You’re leaving,” I growl, anger flicking through my veins.

“I mean, I know it sounds bad, but—”

“Goddamn you, Ri. Colt just started getting used to having you around and you’re pulling up stakes again? I should’ve known.” I snort, struggling to keep my voice down.

She’s so predictable it’s ridiculous. Yet I still let myself get pulled into the possibility that she could do something new.

That this time would be different.

The definition of insanity, doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results.

Rina will never fucking change.

“I’ve heard enough,” I say coldly, already sick of this.

She grabs my arm as I turn, ready to storm back to the vehicle and be done with this whole conversation.

“Archer, wait.”

“No. I don’t have time for your bullshit excuses right now,” I grind out. “Let go, Rina.”

“Just listen!” She plants her small body firmly in my way. “I know you’re pissed. I get it, but this isn’t like last time. I want to see him. Often. I want Colt to visit me.”

I stare at her.

Rina, the ex-wife I once thought I loved, the mother of my child.

Age really is catching up with her, and in the evening sun, she looks a little like she could blow away in the breeze.

“I’ve discussed it with him.” She swallows. “I was thinking we’d take a trip together this fall, maybe he could fly in for winter break… but you were so worried about Winnie, I didn’t know how to bring it up. And that’s when I realized this isn’t the right place for me after all, even aside from the job.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you were so caught up with her, you couldn’t think about anything else. That’s not your fault, it’s honestly kind of sweet. Colt loves her too. You guys made a life here, and I’m not part of it. That’s my fault, no one else’s.”

I don’t understand.

I also don’t recognize the woman she’s become.

She might look the same, but this isn’t the Rina I know, who resented me for having near total custody every time she came back to ruin Colt’s life.

It’s like something getting washed away from my eyes so I can see clearly again.

Are we finally being adults?

Goddamn, it’s taken long enough.

“We’re both committed to burying the past, right?” she says gently. “You’ve been trying and so have I. But Archer, that’s easier if I live elsewhere.”

“Like Chicago,” I say numbly.

“Chicago, yes. Not too far, but far enough. A comfortable distance and a quick plane ride away.” She smiles and pats my arm. “Go get her, Arch. We can talk more later, after she’s back home.”

Home.

No matter how weird it sounds coming from her, it still feels right.

It’s almost felt like Winnie always belonged with us. Not that there’s any guarantee she’ll just move back in with me like nothing ever happened.

“Later,” I agree, raising a hand and jogging back to the car.

It’s only when I’m walking in with Colt that I notice I don’t feel the same lingering melancholy frustration I usually do over Rina’s antics.

Once stung, twice shy, they say.

Winnie Emberly has broken the cycle, and I can’t wait to bring her home for good.