“You’re going to be okay, Mom,” I said quietly. “Help is here.”
Someone knocked on the half-open front door.
“In here,” I called.
Footsteps sounded, steady and slow.
“Hurry up,” I snapped, and the man hurried around the corner, eyes widening when he caught sight of the room.
“How long has she been like this?” he asked, rushing over and dropping his bag. He checked for a pulse and then nudged me aside, going to work on her in a flurry of movement.
“I don’t know. I found her about fifteen minutes ago.”
“What’s her name?”
“Trisha.”
He stopped working on her and wrote it down on a clipboard, and I wanted to yell at him to stop filling out paperwork and make her better. But I bit my tongue.
“And you are?” he asked.
“Easton Raines. Her son.”
He scrawled that and then thrust the clipboard at me. “Here. Fill this out.”
I took it and hurriedly filled in my mother’s information. Secretly, I was just glad for something to do. While I worked, two more paramedics joined the first, bringing a gurney with them. Both of them picked up the pace when they saw the destruction and the unconscious patient in the middle of it all.
I listened while they threw instructions back and forth to each other and the rest of the emergency crew filing in—two more EMTs, a firefighter, and a couple of cops.
“Do we know what happened?” one of the paramedics asked.
“I have a pretty good fucking idea,” I said, my voice barely more than a growl.
The guy eyed me. “And you are?”
“This is Easton, her son,” the first paramedic said. “He found her like this fifteen minutes ago. Not sure how long she’s been out.”
“Judging from the dried blood, I’d say she’s been here at least an hour,” the second paramedic replied.
Panic threatened to overwhelm me then. She’d been lying here, dying alone, for an hour or more? I gave up on the clipboard. Fuck paperwork. Fuck anything else in the world that wasn’t saving my mother’s life. And especially fuck the monster who’d done this to her.
“Mr. Raines?” The second paramedic leaned in close, forcing me to concentrate on him. “I’m Justin, and I’m going to take a look at your mom now.”
“Please help her,” I said, barely looking at him before looking down again to be sure he didn’t jostle her.
“We’re going to do our best,” he assured me, searching for a pulse with one hand and pulling his bag closer with the other.
“Easton?” A familiar voice cut through the rest.
“Yeah?” I turned and spotted a face I hadn’t seen since high school. He looked older now, but he was still the same broad-shouldered guy I remembered from all those years ago. The stern expression he wore was a staple. Resting cop face, we’d called it. I’d run up against him once as a minor when Angus and I had stolen his dad’s truck and tore through a cornfield. The sheriff had threatened to tan our hides—but he hadn’t told my old man, which saved my ass more than he could know.
“Sheriff Wayne.”
I pushed to my feet as he approached and offered a handshake.
“Haven’t seen you since you took off for the big city, son.”
“More like the Falls’ bigger, richer brother,” I snorted.
“Let’s give the EMT’s room to work.” He gestured for us to step away, and I followed him to the far side of the room. I wasn’t willing to let my mom out of my sight, but space was okay—as long as it meant they saved her.
“You want to tell me what happened here?” Sheriff Wayne asked.
His wolf put mine on edge, and I remembered Wayne wasn’t just the sheriff. He was also Tobias’s beta.
I stiffened. “I don’t report to the pack,” I said.
“Relax,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m here as a cop. And I want to help your mom,” he added when I didn’t react. “Did you find her like this?”
I nodded slowly, gauging his level of knowledge. This wasn’t his first visit to the Raines household, but he’d never pushed me to admit anything. Now, though, there was too much knowing in those weathered eyes. Too much anger. And not enough shock.
“How many times?” I asked.
“How many times what?”
“How many times have you been called here for this?”
He studied me with a hard expression. “Today makes two this year.”
“Shit.” My hands fisted. She’d never mentioned this during our calls. Never mentioned him laying a hand on her. Or anything requiring police intervention. I’d hoped that meant he’d stopped. I realized now I’d been lying to myself. Denial was easier than facing the fact that I’d left her behind. This was my fault.
I glanced at her body, still unconscious where she’d fallen. Or where he’d tossed her. Then back to the sheriff.
“He’s a son of a bitch,” I said, my teeth clenching right along with my fists.
“Damn right.” Wayne’s eyes glittered with a rage close to the kind spearing through me.
“I’m going to kill him for this.”
He smirked. “Might not want to mention that to a cop.”
“Not even one who’s witnessed what he does to her twice this year and not done a damn thing to stop it?”
I expected righteous anger. Instead, he just sighed. “I can’t blame you for taking that shot, but unless she wants to press charges, my hands are tied.” He paused, probably waiting for me to argue, but I was sick of wasting my breath. “For what it’s worth, I’ve talked to Tobias about this.”
“Yeah, I can see he’s really concerned.”
“I called him on the way. This is worse than the other times,” he added as if that meant something. “He’d like to sit down with both of you.”
It wasn’t much, but it was more than I’d gotten ten years ago. I nodded, feeling suddenly a hell of a lot older than my twenty-eight years. “Text me the details. I’ll be there.”
He nodded, his expression hard and determined. “In the meantime, try not to kill the bastard.”
He clapped me on the back as he left, pretending not
