Page 82 of Shadow Justice

“I love you too,” he said. “I loved you then—I was just too much of a coward to do anything worthy of it. I love you now, and I’m staying.”

Her eyes burned. “You’d better.”

“I mean it.” He looked up at her, and there it was, the thing she’d wanted years ago and been afraid to want now. Not perfection or a promise that nothing would hurt again. Choice. His and hers, standing in the same room at last.

Reid rose carefully and leaned over the bed. His mouth touched hers softly, a kiss made gentler by the bruises and monitors and the fact that she couldn’t lift her head. It still warmed her all the way through.

When he eased back, his face stayed close to hers. “I still have a job at the shop?”

Holly’s smile made her face hurt, but she didn’t care. “You have a job making me happy, and knowing how to make decent espresso is a basic requirement.”

“That sounds like a demanding position.”

“It is. Terrible hours with dangerous equipment and a supervisory dog.”

“Good benefits?”

“Excellent benefits, once the doctor clears me for anything more exciting than water through a straw.”

His laugh came out low and relieved. Holly held on to it. She held on to his hand too, because the world outside the hospital room still had broken pieces waiting for them.

Allen was in custody, but grief did not disappear because handcuffs clicked around the person who had misused it. Sanctuary would need to be cleaned, repaired, and reclaimed. Linc would worry. Roni would fuss. Blue would probably demand an emotional support pastry. Hopper Shaw would have to decide what to do with a life that had been organized around loss for too long.

And Holly would have to step back into the shop where Allen had turned her kindness into a hunting ground.

Not tonight.

Tonight, she let Reid fuss over the water cup, tell her again that Blue was safe, report that Linc had called twice and threatened to come to the hospital if no one gave him an update, and repeat the doctor’s instructions with enough seriousness to make her suspect he’d memorized them for cross-examination purposes.

He adjusted her blanket. He moved the call button closer. He told her no screens when her eyes drifted toward her phone.

“You’re enjoying this,” she said.

“I’m not enjoying any part of you being in the hospital.”

“You’re enjoying the instructions.”

“I respect clear protocol.”

She rolled her eyes, which hurt almost as much as smiling.

He kissed her hand again, and the teasing faded into something quieter. “You scared me. I’m going to have nightmares about that door.”

“I’m going to have opinions about a bath I never got to take.”

He gently touched her cheek. “I’ll draw you another when you’re home.”

“With lavender salts?”

“With lavender salts, a repaired door, Blue on guard, and me outside the bathroom if that’s where you want me.”

Holly closed her eyes and sighed. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s yours.”

So much in her life had felt borrowed lately: safety, sleep, quiet mornings. The belief that she understood the people who came through Sanctuary’s door.

But Reid’s hand was wrapped around hers, warm and steady, and for once, staying felt less like a promise someone might break and more like a choice they were both making.