Not yet, at least.
“Okay,” she murmurs.
The detective nods once and walks away, and I only hope that’s the last we see of him. As far as I’m concerned, I’mbringing Lucy back to Harmony Heights. That’s where she will live. That’s where she’ll stay. I’ll keep her safe and protected, and if I have to leave the city to take care of her worthless former husband, she’ll stay where I put her so that she never has to look at him again.
I’ll make sure of it.
Before I can lead her outside to where Adrian should be waiting for us, the patient advocate lingers nearby.
Carol eyes move between Lucy and me with professional caution as she lifts the clipboard that has been her constant companion over the last two days. Every time she came by Lucy’s room, she’s had it with her, and now is no different.
“Before I release Lucy, I need verbal confirmation from you, Dallas,” she says to me, using the nickname that she picked up from Lucy—and that she never realizes should belong to Adrian since he was pretending to be me. “You’re assuming full responsibility for her care once she leaves St. Luke’s?”
“Yes.”
“You understand that she’s in a vulnerable cognitive state currently?”
Lucy winces, but I just tuck my arm around her waist, letting her know that I’m here with a simple touch before I answer Carol: “Yes.”
“She needs structured recovery,” Carol continues. “No sudden stressors. No overwhelming environments. I also highly suggest you find Lucy a specialist who understands trauma-based amnesia. Time and attention might just do better to help her heal than a continued stay here.”
That’s what I think, too.
“I’ll find one,” I promise, and I mean it. Maybe not right away. I have something more important to do first, and it might actually work better for me if Lucy doesn’t regain her memory at first.
Iwillhelp her, though. I’ll do anything for my Dandelion, and as Carol peers at me through her glasses, I let her see my undying love for the woman beside me. Let Carol think that we had an estrangement that kept me from knowing that Lucy was hurt in the first place. Let her believe that, faced with the idea that life can end as easily as that, I rediscovered my love for my wife.
Whatever it takes, I’ll do it, and the patient advocate must see that in the determined jut of my chin because she signs the release form before adding the carbon copy to Lucy’s discharge papers.
And, just like that, Lucy Wright ismineagain.
This time, though?
I’m playing for keeps, and there’s nobody who can stop me.
SIX
THE FORTRESS
LUCY
The ride from St. Luke’s to where Dallas lives was super fucking awkward.
I wasn’t expecting that, though maybe I should’ve been. I mean, after spending the last couple of days with him, I know him. At least, IthinkI do.
He says he’s my husband. I feel the weight of the golden band on my left ring finger, the obvious sign that Iammarried. When he settles his gaze on me, something hungry flashes in the depths of his pretty green eyes.
I don’t know what he sees in me. On the outside, we’re nothing alike. He’s more than a head taller than me, built in that muscular way that gets my heart pumping, with a sculpted jaw covered in a five o’clock shadow, and carelessly tousled curls that add a hint of softness to such a ruggedly handsome man. There’s a hint of danger to him, too. From the way he holds himself, like there’s a weapon hidden somewhere on his imposing frame, to the black spade inked on his neck where everyone can see it, he’s the complete opposite of petite, frightened Lucy Wright.
He takes up so much space, even though he’s not doing it on purpose. Helooms, with such a powerful aura surrounding him, he draws eyes everywhere he goes. On the way out of the hospital, I noticed more than a few heads turning, all sneaking peeks at my husband. I guess I’ll have to get used to that.
Again…
As we left, and my heart was thumping wildly as I realized just how much I had to rely on a man who knows everything about me while he’s basically a stranger, he led me to a shiny black car. Instead of getting into the driver’s seat, he opened the back door and murmured for me to get in. He slid in behind me, introducing the man in the front as his cousin—and boss—Adrian.
Adrian agreed to pick us up at St. Luke’s since he was the one who drove Dallas to the hospital in the first place. But, then, the forty minutes it took to get from point A to point B was soweird. Dallas held my hand while Adrian kept up a polite stream of small talk until he figured out I didn’t have much to say, and Dallas was staying quiet himself. Following his cousin’s lead, Adrian stopped talking, only speaking again when he double-parked in front of a building and let Dallas know we’ve arrived.
Before Dallas could come around and open my side of the car for me—something I sensed he would’ve done if I had thought to let him—I hop out, clutching the discharge papers I haven’t let go of yet, and gaze up.
