Page 158 of Valor

My mom breezes into the living room with a fresh plate of French toast.

“Woman, you’re going to make it impossible for me to even walk outside,” my dad says.

“Good. Then you won’t get shot again.” She hands him one plate, then offers me the other. “Eat.”

“Mom—”

“Eat, Lani Hunt. You need your strength, and you’ll be getting it whether you like it or not.”

I laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”

When she’s out of the room, I glance over at my dad who, despite his complaint, is already eating the French toast. When he catches me looking at him, he smiles. “It’s not like I’m going to win that argument anyway.”

* * *

“Are you sure about this?”Gibson asks for the hundredth time as we step up to the front door of my apartment. “Lani, I can take you back to your parents. You can sleep in my guest room. Whatever will make you comfortable. My mom even offered up her guest room.”

Turning toward him, I cup his handsome face. “Gibson, I’ll be fine, okay?”

His expression softens slightly. “I just want you to be happy.”

Leaning up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. “Then let me do this. Let me fight my way back to normal. Facing her was step one. Facing this place is step two.”

“Do I want to know what step three is?”

“Another date,” I tell him.

“That I can do. Is right now too soon?” He gestures back toward his truck, and I laugh.

“Yes. Let’s get this over with. Right now, it’s the elephant in the room, and I want to see it so I can realize it’s not nearly as big as I’m making it out to be.”

He still looks unsure, but he nods anyway. I know he’s still beating himself up over the fact that—in his opinion—he’s the one who brought Deputy Brown into our lives. But none of us blamed him—not even Tommy Yates, who Gibson nearly had to arrest to keep from killing her himself before the officers came and transferred her to the county jail, where she’s waiting out her time until a trial date.

After speaking to Pastor Ford though, Taylor came down from it when the Pastor reminded him that vengeance is not ours to take. It belongs to God. And nothing we do will ever come close to what He can repay.

So instead, even though it was incredibly difficult, we said a prayer for her. That she will find whatever it is she’s looking for and make her way to redemption and salvation.

I face the door and take a deep breath before sliding my key into the lock and pushing it open.

It swings easily, no glass shards to block its way. Which is surprising, since I haven’t had the chance to come and clean up ye?—

Tears fill my eyes when I step inside the foyer of my once-trashed apartment.

It’s been completely restored. Better even than it was.

There is a brand-new potted plant—a pothos—on the kitchen counter.

My cardinal painting has been reframed and rehung, and there’s a brand-new glass coffee table in the center of my recarpeted living room.

“What—how?” I turn toward Gibson.

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Your landlord recarpeted for you, and he let me in so I could do some cleaning and redecorating. I didn’t want you to come back to a mess.”

“But—” I trail off and turn back toward the apartment. “I’ve only been gone a week. How did you do all of this in a week?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” he replies with a grin.

“I didn’t even know I wanted to come back until this morning. I could have just decided to box it all up and move out.” I glance back at him just in time to see him shrug.

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