Page 92 of Her Dom's Secret Past

Nothing had ever made them throb like they were now. I wanted to screech the place down, I wanted to howl. When were the pain meds going to kick in and give me some relief?

Justin was still crying a little so I tried concentrating on him.

“I truly am going to be okay, Jus.”

“We were terribly worried. Charlie kept telling me John would rescue you, but I couldn’t see how, even if he was in charge. There were so many police in the salon.”

“That should have made you happy seeing all those men in uniform.”

“I was too upset. When Charlie rang me and told me what happened, I scooted there as fast as I could.” He squeezed my hand, his face serious. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Not at the moment, but I will be.”

Charlie finally reappeared. He had a funny look on his face, a cross between being angry and almost laughing.

“Where’s John?”

“On his way back.”

“Back?”

“Stupid guy. He thought you wanted him gone. He only heard half of the last thing you said. He heard you say he needed to go, so he went.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“He didn’t hear you say ‘go kill those fuckers,’ he actually thought you wanted him to leave you.”

I started crying again and couldn’t stop, despite Charlie’s attempts to make me. I had no idea how long I sobbed, but the next thing I knew John was there and I was kind of in his arms—that made me cry more. I wasn’t usually a weepy sort of woman, but today the dam had well and truly burst.

He was apologizing, I was bawling, and neither of us were making much sense. Finally, my wails turned to sobs, then the sobs to tears, and at last the tears stopped. I wanted to burrow myself in his arms but couldn’t. I hurt enough from being held and from crying. Justin and Charlie were nowhere to be seen. They must have left to give us some privacy.

“My dearest, darling woman, I’m very sorry. I never thought, I…”

“It doesn’t matter, but did you do what I asked?”

“I don’t know what you wanted.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Yes.”

I gave a very satisfied sigh. I never thought I’d ever wish anyone dead until today and now I was happy to know John had killed them. “Good.”

“I should never have put you in such danger.” His voice filled with misery, like he was punishing himself over this, blaming himself fully.

“How could you know?”

He shrugged. “I just should have.”

“Why did they want you? They said something about a brother.”

It appeared as if the weight of the world was resting on John’s shoulders, but he did answer. “You know the man who shot me?”

I nodded carefully because my head hurt.

“Well, he had a brother who I’d faced before. We had a knife fight when I tried to arrest him. I cut his face pretty badly.”

“Scarface,” I gasped, and he looked at me oddly. “That’s what I called him in my head.”

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