Page 154 of Desperate People

I’m his.

And he’s mine.

“Take me home, Husband,” I whisper.

His jaw clenches, and he nods, voice a growl, a vow, a promise wrapped in blood and ash and aching devotion.

“Anything you want, Wife.”

He lifts me like I weigh nothing and carries me out into the dying night.

The fire might be out, but there is something I will always know.

And it’s our truth.

We’ll never stop burning for each other.

Chapter Forty-Balor

After an hour of making sure everything got done to clean the scene, and traveling back from the city—we’re finally home.

And we’re alone.

I should feel relief.

The bastard is dead.

Lucy is alive.

The blood on her body wasn’t all hers.

She’s breathing.

Talking.

Touching me.

The doctor was waiting for her when we got here after she refused the hospital.

But since there’s literally nothing money can’t buy, I had a couple of doctors, one a plastic surgeon, waiting to tend her wounds.

The cuts are shallow enough, they’ll heal, though one was deep and could leave a scar.

Only time will tell.

So yeah, I still feel like I can’t breathe.

Not with the sterile scent of gauze and iodine filling the bedroom, mixing with the faint trace of her perfume.

Not with the bandages over her shoulder hiding what that sick fuck did.

Not with her curling up next to me like I’m still worthy of her love.

Because I’m not.

I let him get that close.

I was too late.

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