Closing his eyes, he pulled her closer until there was no space left between them, her body fitting against his like it remembered the shape of him. Like fifteen years hadn’t passed. Like she hadn’t vanished in the middle of his life and left him standing on a quiet Mississippi sidewalk with a ring burning a hole in his pocket.
The wind moved through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, lifting strands of her hair and brushing them across his jaw. He tilted his head, pressing his mouth to her temple first, then to her cheek, slow and deliberate, letting himself relearn the feel of her skin.
She made a soft sound in her throat and turned her face toward him.
Their lips met gently at first. Not rushed or desperate, but more of a quiet, searching kiss that deepened as recognition settled in.
She slid her hands up his chest, curling her fingers into the back of his jacket, pulling him closer as if afraid he might fade if she didn’t anchor him there. Elvis answered by shifting them back against the rough bark of the nearest tree, one arm braced beside her shoulder, the other wrapped securely around her waist.
He kissed her again, slower this time, pouring every unsaid thing into it: every night he’d wondered where she was, every mile he’d put between himself and memory, the promises he’d never gotten to keep that haunted his memories.
Her body softened against his as her breath shuddered.
When they finally pulled apart, she stayed close, her forehead resting against his, their noses brushing. He could feel her heartbeat through her jacket. It matched his own.
They took her from him once, and there was no way he would lose her again.
“I promise you,” he whispered, his voice threading through the trees, steady even as something fierce rose in his chest. “You’re going to make it through this.”
Her fingers tightened on his jacket. “And after?”
He leaned back, lifting one hand to her hair and smoothing it back from her face, letting his thumb trace the line of her cheek. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as he took in a slow breath. “After, we figure out how to live.”
Her eyes searched his.
He stared back, determination filling him. “You’re not disappearing on me again.”
It wasn’t a question, but more of a promise.
She exhaled, slow and shaky, then tucked herself back into his arms, her face against his collarbone. Elvis held her there, rocking slightly, breathing her in, memorizing the weight of her, the warmth of her, the quiet courage in the way she pressed herself into him like she’d finally stopped running.
He stood there with her beneath the whispering trees, and the world narrowed to the woman in his arms, already knowing that whatever came next, he would meet it head-on. There was no other choice. He would do it for her. For them. Always.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AS THE DAY EASED its way toward night, the cabin began to feel smaller. Not physically, of course. After all, the rooms were the same size, while the ceiling still sloped where the roofline dipped. The kitchen still smelled faintly of coffee that had brewed too long and pine cleaner from where Abe mopped the floors “just to stay busy.”
Still, something inside her had expanded, and there was no more space for fear to stretch its slimy tendrils.
Donovan stood near the window with his phone in his hand, jaw tight, eyes flicking between her and Bobby. He had already warned her that this call would not be simple, and she knew well how her mother handled stress. She didn’t. Not well, that is.
It didn’t matter. She had been worried about her family since they had rushed her out of the casino’s hotel and even though the marshal had promised they were fine, she wouldn’t believe it until she heard it from them.
Now she stood at the edge of the kitchen table and pressed her palms flat against the wood. The grain dug into her skin, and she welcomed the pain of it, if only to remind her she was alive.
“Are they ready?” she asked.
Donovan nodded once, pushing himself off the wall as he held out the phone. “I still think this is a bad idea. Your mom’s the… nervous type, and my partner just got her calmed down.”
“I don’t care. I need to hear her voice. I’ll keep her calm.”
He nodded as he crossed the floor. “It’s a secure line, and Miles is with them.”
Her stomach rolled as she took the phone. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in weeks, Obsidian taking up so much of her time. She regretted that now. Having your life upended tended to do that to you, make you regret being too busy making a life to be with the people you should enjoy that life with.
“Laney!” Her mother’s voice came through the speaker in a whisper that carried more years than it should have.
Delaney closed her eyes at the sound of the nickname. “Mama.”
