My stomach rolled as a wave of nausea hit me.
Heath and I had been celebrating my latest Wheel of Fortune victory by cooking together. Tessa had crashed out hours earlier, and I had been admiring Heath’s bare feet and shirtless chest as he’d flipped pork chops in a frying pan when Alex and a swarm of DEA agents had stormed in and forced us upstairs.
I’d panicked, fearing the worst.
But I’d never expected that the worst could actually be worse than I feared.
Ethan was dead, and we were still waiting on an update with Elisabeth’s condition. The last thing we’d heard was that she was being rushed to the hospital with a possible gunshot wound in her chest.
Walt had finally come out of hiding.
And he was back with a vengeance.
At this news, I hadn’t fallen apart.
I hadn’t cried.
I hadn’t even gotten pissed.
They were all worthless emotions that would change nothing.
And, right then, I’d desperately needed someone to change everything.
So, with my ears ringing and numbness cloaking my body, I’d settled on the edge of the bed and tried to make sense of a senseless situation.
“Oh thank fuck!” Heath barked. “She was wearing the vest.”
I closed my eyes, my chin falling to my chest as a surge of relief inundated me.
“Clare? You hear me?”
“I heard you, honey,” I whispered, doing my best to keep it together. But, as my shoulders shook and my breath shuddered, I failed.
“Yeah. Have Leblanc call me when you can. I gotta go.”
The space beside me on the bed sank, Heath’s blanket of warmth surrounding me.
“It’s okay, babe. Let it out.”
“I hate him,” I told his chest as I face-planted against it.
“I know. I do, too.”
I perked my head up so I could see him. “No, Heath. I hate him. And I hate myself too, because if it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened.”
He frowned. “This isn’t your fault.”
“No. It’s not. But Elisabeth was only on his radar because of me.”
“Bullshit. Elisabeth was on his radar because he’s a whack-job who stole her eggs and played God so he could have a kid.”
I shot to my feet. “Because I couldn’t give him that!”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Do not go down this road. Do not take his actions on your conscience. You didn’t shoot them, Clare. And you know good and damn well not a single person involved in this situation blames you for any of it. So don’t fucking start.”
I aimed my gaze over his shoulder. He was right, and deep down, I knew that none of it was my fault, but guilt was a real bitch like that.
I opened my mouth to tell him that I hated his sensible answers, but his phone vibrated in his hand. He immediately put it to his ear while lifting a single finger in my direction.
“Roman? Shit. Yeah, we’re good. What the hell is going on over there?”
I leaned into his side to hear what Roman was saying, and Heath caught the hint and put him on speakerphone.
My heart ached as Roman painfully recounted finding Ethan in the hall then finding Elisabeth unconscious on the bathroom floor with a bullet hole in her shirt and blood covering her face and chest. The devastation in his voice was tangible, and it slashed through me.
Before I knew it, Heath had scooped me up and set me in his lap. His strong hand smoothed up and down my back.
My body was nearly vibrating as I struggled to hold my rage back.
There were no words to adequately express the loathing and detest I felt for Walt.
“So, is she okay?” Heath finally asked when Roman quieted.
“Doctors are gluing the gash on her nose. She’s got two cracked ribs from the bullet, but thank fuck she was wearing that vest.”
Heath grunted his approval then pressed his lips to my temple.
“Listen,” Roman started. “Can Clare hear me?”
Heath’s gaze bounced to mine. “Uh, yeah. She’s right here.”
“Take me off speaker.”
Heath’s finger went to the button, but I was done being a silent participant in this conversation—and, really, my entire life. I’d had no control over anything when I had been with Walt. And, most recently, I’d been sitting back and trusting Heath, Roman, and the DEA to take care of me, but I was finished being in the dark.
“Don’t you dare,” I hissed at Heath. “Do not cut me out of this. Roman, whatever you have to say to Heath, you can say it to me, too.”
“Clare,” Roman sighed. “I…ah…”
“I deserve to be involved in this. And I dare either one of you to tell me I don’t. I have more than earned my place in this conversation.”
“Babe,” Heath warned.
“You know what? Fuck you both.” I climbed off Heath’s lap.
His astute gaze followed me as I began to pace.
“I spent seven fucking years being controlled by that maniac. I refuse to let you two decide what I can and can’t handle.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stopped to give Heath a pointed scowl.