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She nods. “Better. Can you do my hair too please?”

There are still a couple of stitches in her head and I’ll need to be careful of those but I nod, filling the cup up again and holding it above her head.

“Tip your head back.”

Her head falls back and I gently pour the water over her scalp, careful not to let it fall in her eyes. My fucking hands are shaking and I’m trying so hard to be as gentle with her as possible. Once her hair is all wet, I grab the shampoo and she meets my eyes as I begin massaging it into her scalp. I avoid the area with stitches as much as I can, staying around the edges.

“Baby,” she whispers with a laugh, amusement shining in her eyes. “You don’t have to look like you’re defusing a bomb.”

I shoot her a scowl. “You still have stitches there, baby. I’m not taking any chances.”

“They’re stitches, Dalton,” she giggles, her full smile on display and it takes my breath away. “Not explosives.”

“Same difference,” I mutter as I focus back on my task but out of the corner of my eye, I can still see her grinning at me. Then, something in her face changes. I glance back to her and she has tears filling her eyes and her bottom lip is wobbling.

“Hey,” I whisper, dropping my hands from her head.

Did I hurt her?

“What happened?”

She shakes her head. “I was just thinking…”

Her words trail off and I release a breath.

Over the past five days, anytime her mind has turned to the attack, she’s gotten emotional. Ali, Storm’s old lady, said she’s just processing it and that she just needs time. But I’ve never felt more fucking useless than I do when my woman is sobbing and there is nothing I can do about it.

“Baby,” I say, my chest aching fiercely as I stare up at her. The first few tears fall down her cheeks and she falls into me, folding her arms under her chest as she lays her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her and press my lips to her forehead.

“I’ve got you, Lennon,” I whisper, gently dragging my fingertips up and down her back. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”

She just cries for a moment, her body shaking in my arms as sobs rack her small frame. My chest fucking aches and all I can do is touch and kiss her, try to give her some kind of comfort as she sorts through all this shit.

“What the hell do we do now, Dalton?” she finally asks, struggling to get the words out through her tears. I nudge under her chin and she pulls back just enough to meet my eyes.

“We just live, baby.”

She presses a hand to my chest, shaking her head as tears continue trailing down her gorgeous face. “How?”

“One day at a time, my love,” I whisper, forcing a smile to my face as I search her eyes. “Remember?”

She nods, sobs racking her body as she buries her face back in my neck. I rub my hand over the back of her head, pressing kisses to her cheek and her neck, to soothe her.

That’s fine.

She can cry as long as she needs to.

Because I’ll be here.

Always.

As much as I wish I could, I know I can never make all of this up to her. Plus, she’d probably skin me alive if she even thought that’s what I was trying to do. But I can fight every single day to make sure she feels loved and cherished and safe.

I’ll spend my whole fucking life taking care of her.

One day at a time.

Epilogue