“I thought you should know,” I say, voice small.
He tenses—jaw clenching like I stepped on something raw—so I wait, counting the beats of his heart under my palms:boom, boom, boom.
Then I say it, the whole impossible, glorious, terrifying thing.
“I love you, Sawyer.I just thought you should know.”
For a slice of a second, he doesn’t move.The lights from outside cut a bright line along his cheekbone.
I read everything in him—shock, something like relief, the iron will that never lets him lose control.
My throat tightens.
I feel stupid and brave at the same time.
He swallows.Makes a small sound.
Then he closes his eyes for a beat, as if he’s letting the words land inside him where they can’t be taken back.
When he opens them, there’s that soft, broken look I’ve seen before but never as mine.
“Goddamn, Lil Bit,” he breathes, and there’s a laugh in it, shocked and raw.“You beat me to it.”
My mouth drops open, because—what?He’s teasing me?
But then his hand slides up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing the wetness by my eye.
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he says low, the edge of old menace there, but the rest of it threads through with something warmer.“And for the record?I love you, too.God help me, I do.”
I don’t have a plan for what comes next—there’s still work to do, questions to answer, things to figure out—but in this heavy, safe moment, I tuck my forehead to his and let the truth settle.
It’s not a promise of forever written in stone, but it’s a beginning, and it hums louder than the engine.
He holds me tighter, like he’s trying to make sure I can’t slip away.
Outside, the night is full of men and motives and things that can’t be fixed with a whisper.
Inside his arms, though, everything that’s broken feels like maybe it can be mended.
“I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to,” I whisper.
“Good,” he says.“Then you’re staying put.And I’m not going anywhere either.Not without you.”
Chapter 37-Sawyer
Right after we locate the gas station.
Five minutes.
That’s the only grace I give myself — five minutes to make sure the men who touched what’s mine pay in whatever currency I decide.
Micah’s voice is a calm cut through the roar of the SUV.
“Thermal’s locked.They’re at the north pump.Two standing, one with her.”
His fingers dance the drone feed across my phone.
I watch Lil Bit slumped, small against the bathroom wall, and the engine in my gut flips from cold to hot.
