This was a plot.
I parked, got out, and stiffly turned to face his cruiser.
When he got out, I couldn’t stop myself.
I had to know.
I walked up to him and poked him in the chest.
“What the absolute fuck are you doing alive?”
Six
I’d call you a cunt, but you lack the warmth and depth.
—Gentry to Black
Gentry
I’d meant to go talk to her before this.
Really, I had.
But life had gotten a little bit busy.
I’d had the club.
My new job.
The friends that I’d made.
The looking over my shoulder.
Fuck.
I should’ve made time.
Looking at the hurt and broken look on Sage’s face made my stomach clench.
“I’m alive,” I said, “because some man that has the skills to get me out took pity on me and my predicament, and made it happen.”
She opened her mouth and closed it, dropping her finger from my uniform shirt.
She looked lost in that moment, and it took everything I had not to pull her into my arms and hug her tight.
“And it’s just a coincidence that I ended up here right along with you?” she asked softly.
Too softly.
“I didn’t want you to have to marry that asshole,” I said. “And you were just as much a victim in all of that as I was.”
She said nothing.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. We couldn’t chance anything at first. Then I just got…overwhelmed.”
“Overwhelmed,” she mused. “So you let me think, for nine months, that you were dead. That I was the reason you were dead.”
I winced.
