Page 47 of Pocketful of Us

"Ro?"

"Sketch," I sobbed, unable to contain my feelings. "Oh my God,Sketch!"

"Holy fuck,Ro?"

My whole face caved in. Every emotion I'd been battling to control burst clean out of me. My heart went wild at the sight of him. I couldn’t make it stop. It was hammering in my chest like I had run a marathon. The relief in my veins was flooding me.

I wasn’t sure who moved first, but we both lunged for the other, bodies fusing in the tightest hug humanly possible.

"Sketch…"

"Ro." His breath was coming hard and fast as his arms came around my body, wrapping me up in his embrace. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"You're okay." My tears ran freely down my cheeks as I cried hard and ugly, feeling more gratitude and relief in this moment than ever before. "Oh, thank God!" My hands roamed all over his face and chest, seeking confirmation that this wasn't another cruel mirage or dream. "You're here. We're both here. We're gonna be okay…"

"Baby." His fingers were caked in dry blood but he still reached up and wiped my tears away. "I can't believe you're really here." His voice cracked and he pulled my face to his. Kneeling in front of each other, he rested his brow against mine, breathing hard and fast. "Fuck, Ro, when I woke up and found you gone, I lost my fucking mind." Cradling my face in his hands, he pressed a hard kiss to my lips before pulling back to just look at me, his breathing fast and ragged. "Where'd you go, huh?" His voice was thick with emotion. "I was so scared. I looked everywhere for you. I thought I'd never see you again."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," I half-panted/half-sobbed, mirroring his actions by clutching his face in my hands. "I've been so scared I could hardly breathe. When I watched that bullet…" No. I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t even think about it. "I had to believe you were okay," I sobbed. "It was the only way I could keep going and not lose my mind again."

"Yeah," he replied gruffly, mirroring my words. "I know the feeling."

"What the hell are you doing back in Pocketful, you big jerk?" I demanded, shaking his shoulders, furious with him for trusting Seth, but too in love to let him go. "You came here to kill my father? Are you completelyinsane?"

"Maybe," he replied honestly. "Or at least I was when I agreed." He blew out a breath. "I had to find you, baby, and Seth said that he knew where you were." He looked so lost as he spoke. "I knew that I couldn’t find you on my own – and God knows I tried. Presley tried. He had Lucky and his goons try to find you, too, andnothing.You were justgone, Ro." His shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm crazy for you, Ro, you know that. There ain't a damn thing I wouldn’t agree to if it meant that I got to see this pretty face one more time." His thumb stroked my cheek. "But I know that I screwed up, okay? I get that."

"Uh, youthink?"

"He's dangerous, Ro," Sketch admitted. "Like completely fucking unpredictably dangerous."

"Seth?"

He nodded slowly. "He gave me this." He pulled a cell out of the pocket of his hoodie. "He said that when he texts me, I have to go inside and help him." He cringed in shame. "He wants your dad dead, Ro. He's so bitter that I think it's poisoned his mind."

"Well, you don’t have to help him," I blurted out, fury filling my veins. "You're not going anywhere near my father."

He sighed heavily. "I said I would, Ro. I gave him my word, baby –"

"And I'm saying no!" I snapped. "It's not happening, Holden. You are not going into that house to get your head blown off by my deranged family!"

"Shh," he coaxed, holding me tighter. "Okay, okay. Relax."

"I mean it," I added, clinging to him. "I don’t trust Seth. Your father thinks this whole thing is a trap and I agree with him."

"My father?" he replied in a flat tone. "Which one?"

"Both?" I offered weakly, feeling a world of sympathy for him wash through my heart. "They're both here," I added, snuggling deeper into his chest when he stiffened. "They want to help us."

"Fuck them both," he bit out, shaking off all notions of help. "I don’t need a damn thing from either one of them. I only need you. The rest of the world can get fucked."

"My dad wants to hurt you," I said. "He wants you dead! You should have heard the things he said – the things he wants to do to you." I shook my head, rejecting the memories. "You can't trust either one of them." A shiver rolled down my spine. "Your dad and Raffaele went in there to negotiate with him."

"Raffaele," he whispered the name softly. "That's who you were with?"

Swallowing deeply, I nodded. "Yes."

"Did he…" Grimacing, he blew out a pained breath before finishing, "hurt you?"

"No."

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