She sees danger the way I do.
Brave to the point of reckless.
My equal.
My trouble. My wife.
“Swear to me you won’t ever do that again. Promise me.”
I need to hear it. I need the illusion of safety because the reality is unbearable. Sin turns away like he can’t watch me unravel. Doc busies himself with her vitals, giving us the moment.
She nods faintly, gripping my shirt.“I promise.”
I kiss her, slow and careful. Reverent. She’s becoming my everything. “I’ve got you. Always.”
Sin says behind me, “We all do, princess.”
Doc clears his throat like he’s pretending not to feel anything. “Let her rest.”
Wren’s hands grasp at my forearm, eyes a little wild as if truly just waking up fully. “What happened after…?”
My jaw tightens, ready to burn the world down for her. “Knox is gone. Judge will make sure he pays for what he’s done.”
He took the sheriff down to the local hospital and was sure to talk to the chief of police, an old poker buddy of his from his time at the courthouse. Knox won’t be able to weasel his way out of this.
And if I know anything about the way his benefactors will react, he’ll have to go into hiding as soon as he leaves the hospital. If he makes it that far. He knows too much to let live.
“But Grant’s coming, and he won’t come alone.” I stroke Wren’s hair back. “Rest while you can, wife. This isn’t over.”
28
WREN
It’s been a week, and I’m finally moving around more normally. The pain in my shoulder is still intense most of the time, but I’m no longer hunched nor relying on the cocktail Doc has made for me.
My husband gifted me a new burner phone, which I mostly use to play games, stalk the people from my former life on social media, and check the news. There’s not much to see.
Midafternoon has me sulking in my room, strumming my violin as it sits in its open case. I haven’t been able to play, and I won’t for a while. Notes and melodies still call to me, making my fingers itch with the desire to tuck my baby under my chin and play until I’ve worked through everything.
Being shot is the least of it all. It’s the way my men hover around me now. Watching, waiting for me to need their help. Especially Saint. The small murmurs ofwifein my hair, against my neck, before or after a kiss, it’s going to wreck me completely.
Something akin to love is worming its way under my ribs to my closely protected heart. Not that I can hide my feelings. Taking a bullet for him is a declaration in itself.
But saying the words… I’m not there yet. Not ready to be so vulnerable.
Besides, it’s not just Saint creating a space for himself in my heart. The breakfasts in bed and foot rubs from Doc in the mornings have become a special routine that has me feeling like my old self—or a better version of her.
And Sin…God that man. He doesn’t say much, but he takes any chance he gets to pull me somewhere safe and quiet to simply hold me. It’s a softness I didn’t know he had. I don’t think he knew it either. At times, he’ll tuck me into the table in the back corner and play poker or Rummy with me when I’m bored.
My fingers pluck at the D string, and its resonating hum almost makes me miss the vibration of my burner phone on the bed.
It’s lit up with anunknown number. Who on earth could have it?
Heart beating fast, I pick it up, swipe the screen, and lift the speaker to my ear.
Static at first—no, rustling—as a long breath is let loose. “Wren?”
My mother’s voice is a vice around my chest.
