Page 144 of Doubt


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“Faith.” I closed the distance between us and reached for her, trying to anchor her with my touch. But hope had already lost its battle in those beautiful eyes.

“Please don’t.” She stepped back, putting the kitchen island between us like a barricade. “Don’t comfort me. Not right now.”

“Is this because the crime scene photos got leaked?”

Her lips thinned into a white line. She twisted the dishcloth in her hands, wringing it like she was trying to strangle her own fear.

Okay, so that’s a yes.

The photos had made everything worse. Splashed across every news site, every social media platform. But it wasn’t just that. All night, I’d watched her wrestle with those fresh, fragmented memories that didn’t even help her case. We already knew she’d stabbed him. Once. In the neck.

“Anyone would’ve felt relieved if they’d just survived an attack,” I said, forcing my voice to soften. “Those new memories don’t change the fundamentals of your case.”

“I don’t want to talk about the memories.” She set the spatula down. “And please don’t minimize what’s actually happening, Ryker. I’m a smart woman. I can see the writing on the wall. I’m not giving up hope, I’m not giving up my fight, so you don’t need to give me a pep talk.”

This woman.So strong yet so vulnerable, all tangled into one beautiful, heartbreaking masterpiece.

The anger drained out of me, replaced by something that felt uncomfortably close to fear. “What do you need?”

“Your promise.” Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “Two promises actually.”

I wanted to squash the conversation again because, goddammit, I did not—could not—explore plans that didn’t end in happily ever after for this woman. But I could also see thatnottalking about this would only give her more anxiety. “Anything.”

The word sent a cascade of emotions throughout her features. Relief, gratitude, and then, because this was Faith, guilt. She cleared her throat, gathering courage.

“First …” Her voice cracked. “If this doesn’t go the way we want … promise me you’ll find someone to take care of Rainbow for me.”

I pressed my tongue hard against the roof of my mouth, fighting for control, but she barreled on before I could speak.

“The right someone. Not just anyone.” The words tumbled out in a desperate rush. “You have to vet them. Really thoroughly. Like FBI-level background checks. Make sure they actually want a dog, not just think they do, and that they’ll never ever get rid of her.”

Behind her, Rainbow lifted her head from where she’d been dozing in a patch of sunlight, ears perked like she knew we were talking about her.

Faith’s hands shook as she gripped the edge of the counter. “And make sure they know she loves her treats first thing in the morning. Like, the second she opens her eyes, she’s looking for her morning cookie. And she needs her sunny spot by the window. Every day, Ryker. At my place, or yours, she sits in a patch of sunlight and just … exists. It’s her favorite thing.”

She was rambling now, couldn’t stop, and each word cracked my chest open wider.

“She doesn’t like loud noises, so they can’t have kids under five, and she sleeps on the left side of the bed—always the left—and she has this little snore when she’s really content and?—”

“Faith.” I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my eyes. “If this doesn’t go the way we want, I’ll take her.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I’ll take Rainbow.”

“But your place doesn’t allow pets. We had to sneak her in here, even temporarily. The lease specifically says?—”

“I’ll move.”

The kitchen went silent except for the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the sizzle of forgotten eggs.

“You’ll … move?” Her voice pitched higher with disbelief. “You’ll move out of your penthouse? The one with the floor-to-ceiling windows and the marble countertops and the view that makes grown women weep?”

My mouth quirked up despite everything. “That’s the one.”

“Just so you can take care of a dog?” She stared at me like I’d sprouted a second head. “Ryker, you don’t even like dogs.”

“She’s not just any dog.” The intensity in my voice stopped her cold. “She means everything to you. Therefore, she means everything to me.”