Page 207 of Ride the Sky

“We can talk now,” Tripp says.

I shiver. Force myself to avoid looking at Wyatt. I can feel his stare boring into me. “We can. What about?”

“Wyatt. You married him.” Tripp sounds wounded.

“You think I love him?” I laugh, gesturing toward Wyatt, hating myself. “I’m using him. For insurance, Tripp. You think I could afford it myself?” I bite my lip. “You know what it’s like. You and I, we grew up together. Survived in this shitty Podunk town. We weren’t born with silver spoons in our mouths like him.”

All my focus is Wyatt.

Nothing else.

Tripp drops his arm. The gun dangles loosely in his grip. Wyatt’s burning gaze tracks us.

Keep talking. Keep talking to get us out of here.

“I wish…” I tilt my head, swallowing the bile in my throat. Force a sweet smile. “I wish you had just asked me out or something. We could have avoided all this mess. But it’s not too late, you know.”

Tripp takes a step closer. He reaches out to cup my cheek. “It isn’t?”

I lower my lashes. “No. We could go away together. Wild horses. Sunshine.”

Tripp’s stare is glassy. I can’t tell if he’s buying my bullshit. “Yeah. We could.”

I step into him. At the sweep of my breasts against his chest, his breathing speeds up. His eyes close.

A wicked grin tilts my lips when I see it. My cane. Resting against the workbench in the basement.

I don’t want flowers. I want knives.

Knives.

I step closer, and then I gasp. My leg gives out. I collapse to the floor.

“Fallon.” Tripp kneels beside me. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

I rest my hand on his shoulder. “My leg.” I shake my head. “It’s really killing me.” I point at the cane. “Do you think—”

Tripp’s nodding now, sticking the gun in his front waistband. “Yeah.”

Without another word, he turns and sprints for the workbench.

Quietly, I let the cuffs slip off my wrists. No longer tethered to the chain.

“Fallon.” Wyatt’s whisper is urgent. Worried.

My attention zeroes in on his handsome face.

Our eyes unite.

He’s seen my deepest secrets, my scars, and he’s loved me through it all. I know he’s killed and he’s hurt and he’s the best person I have ever known. He’s the man I belong with, the man I love, and the man I won’t lose.

I’ve hated the last two years more than I can count. But for the last two months, I have loved fiercely, and I am not ready to let it go.

Never.

“Don’t,” Wyatt gasps. His face is screwed up like I’m killing him. Good. Because if anyone kills him in this life, it’s me.

His wife.

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