Page 93 of Cruel Revenge
I couldn’t stand anymore. I sank to my knees, sobbing as I held her.
“I’m so sorry for everything!” she cried. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” I said, holding her head to my shoulder, cradling her, beginning to rock back and forth. “Nothing at all, sweetie. Nothing!”
We knelt there, crying together, holding each other, and for a long moment, nothing mattered.
Heath stepped forward again, and I looked up, wanting to thank him for giving me one last moment with Carey before it ended between us. He had seen everything now. I couldn’t hide this from him anymore, and there was no way someone could love me after it was seen. After what I had done here.
But when I met his eyes, I wasn’t greeted with the end of a relationship.
Something moved into place, and I was filled with love. It was more complicated than that. There was worry, happiness, exhaustion, and fear.
All of it from love.
His eyes went wide. Mine felt like they were going to pop out of my head. We stared mystified for a moment as Landon shuffled around and unlocked the cages with the boys. Arlo and Benjamin ran to each other, then grabbed Kody into the hug as well. The boys crying together made Heath and me break our eye contact. Landon trying to pat their heads like they were still young children made both of us chuckle.
I pulled Carey closer as she tried to bury herself closer to me, refusing to yield her now impressively strong grip. Heath looked at us, his expression soft and loving.
“We’re going to talk about this later,” he said softly, smiling because we knew what had just snapped into place.
I had begun to think it was impossible.
We had a mate bond.
I could feel it, a new limb that felt like it should have always been there. I could feel him.
“Talk about what?” Carey said, lifting her head from me, her eyes teary still.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” I promised her, running my hand over her hair and seeing it was back to normal. I looked at Heath, opening my mouth to ask.
“Later,” he mouthed. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I mouthed back to him, my cheek pressed hard into Carey’s hair. Then I groaned.
“Are you okay?” he asked out loud this time.
Carey pulled away, frowning.
“I smell blood,” she said, finally looking down at my body and seeing I was covered in it.
“There’s a lot of that. I’m sorry,” I said to my girl.
“No, I smellyours!” she said, suddenly panicking. “Are you injured?”
“Okay, why don’t you back off and let me look?” Heath said, reaching down to haul Carey off me. I tried to stand, but I grew dizzy, and he had to catch me.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, she’s taken some shots,” Heath said, his hands going over me. I felt each one as he found them. “Fucking hell, Jacky.” His exasperation was clear in every way possible—the sound of his voice, the scent that surrounded me, and through the mate bond. His worry was the same.
“No! Jacky, you have to stay awake! We haven’t talked and?—”
“Talk and walk,” Heath said, trying to move me. My legs worked, but I was quickly running out of energy. He lifted me and started to carry me out, but Carey followed, a blanket wrapped around her. She stayed near us, trying to fall in step with her father and keep up.
“I love you,” I said to her, smiling. “More than anything.”
“Can I… can I call you Mom?”
