Page 77 of Bound

“You’ve been through the shit, man,” he says. “And I don’t mean with the bullshit your body pulled with your pancreas?—”

I inhale, find that I’m holding myself very still.

“I mean all of it—” His gaze hits mine, holds and…

I know.

That he knows.

That he’sknown.

And Claire was right—not once has he treated me like I used to think I deserved.

Not once has he looked at me like I thought I should be viewed.

Fuck, my woman is smart.

“I need to go,” I mutter.

He catches my shoulder when I hop onto the bench, intending to haul ass down to?—

“Easy, man,” he says, grip unbreakable. “I’ve never?—”

I turn, my eyes hitting his. “I know.” I cover his hand with my own, squeeze and peel it free. “I know. Finally, I fuckingknow. And”—I shake my head—“she knew without even knowing.”

Smitty’s expression is almost gentle. “Of course she did,” he tells me. “She’s smart as fuck and pays attention.”

“To all the things, both big and small.” I tilt my head toward the hall. “And I need to go tell her how right she is.”

“About the big shit?” he asks.

“Abouteverything.”

Smitty grins and claps me on the shoulder so hard I swear I feel like the brackets on my skates are going to give way—either that or I’m going to be shoved straight through the ice down to the concrete below.

“Now you’ve fucking got it.”

He nudges me off the ice.

“Now you fucking know.”

I do.

I fucking know.

And I’m not going to let anything stop me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Claire

There’s a perfunctory knock at my office door that has my fingers freezing above the keyboard.

I look up to see the wooden panel swing inward in a rush and my stomach clenches.

I lurch to my feet, chair skidding backward, colliding with the wall, then start to hurry around my desk. “Oh my God, Jackson, is everything?—”

My words stopper up in my throat.

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