I’m moving before I’ve even had time to think, my hands cupping her face as I press my forehead to hers, trying to catch my breath and form words.
“I’m okay,” she says quietly, reading my mind.
“I thought I'd lost you,” I rasp.
She lifts her hand and places it over mine. “I’m here.”
“Are you hurting?” Pulling back, I meet her dark eyes, keeping my hands on her face, soaking in the feel of her.
“No,” she shakes her head, shifting stiffly to get more comfortable. I give her some space, but I don’t go far, keeping her hands touching mine as if that’ll be enough to keep her here with me. Truthfully, I need it. That contact, her skin on mine.
“Darcy?” She asks after a moment.
“She was brought here,” I swallow, “I don’t know much else, but I made a statement. She won’t be able to hurt you again.”
“She needs help, Silas,” Juni says sadly. “She’s ill.”
Lowering back into the chair, I tuck her hand into both of mine. “Don’t worry about her.”
Her eyes drop to where we are connected, “Calvin’s dead.”
I keep watching her face, watching the emotions play over it. I can see how exhausted she is; the dark shadows under her eyes a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin.
“And I feel like a monster.”
“Why?” I press.
“Because I’m not sad,” she flicks her glazed eyes to me, “I’m relieved.”
“That doesn’t make you a monster, Honeybee,” I tell her gently. “It makes you human. He made your life a nightmare.”
“I don’t think he should have died,” she whispers, “But I thought I’d feel more.”
I squeeze her hand.
“He’s gone. It’s over.”
“We have forever now,” I lower my head so I can catch her eyes, “If you still want it with me.”
Her bottom lip wobbles. “I want it. I want it all with you.”
Chapter Forty-three
Rosie stares at the white gauze attached to Juni’s shoulder, a little frown pulling on her brows.
“Does it hurt?” Rosie asks, “Did Daddy kiss it better?”
Juni chuckles, “It doesn’t hurt right now. I have some really good painkillers that are helping.”
We’ve been home less than an hour and I’ve been on damn edge watching the woman I love pretend she didn’t get shot in the shoulder. She came in and immediately tried to pick up Rosie when she ran to her for a cuddle; the only reason she didn’t was because I managed to get my daughter off the floor before she lunged at her. It’s like she’s forgotten thatless than three days ago she had a bullet in her shoulder and needed a blood transfusion. She could have died, and yet today she’s joking and laughing with Niamh, playing with the kids instead of taking it easy like the doctors told her to.
“What’s that face for?” Juni waves her finger in my face.
“What face?” I grumble.
“Thatface.” She laughs, “You look like you are ready to go to war. What’s wrong?”
“You’re supposed to be resting,” I frown.
