Page 42 of Knotted Laces

She exhales, setting the plates in the drying rack and wiping her hands on a towel.

Her eyes—those gorgeous brown eyes—are filled with such hurt that I want to cross to her, want to tell her that everything will be all right.

But I don’t know that.

And I can’t even get my own head together, so how in the fuck can I possibly offer up that little tidbit as fact?

“Fuck,” she says softly. “I think we both need to get drunk.”

“Athena.” I move to her.

She turns for the cabinet where I have the booze, pulls out my last bottle of whisky.

“Baby.”

Her shoulders hitch up and I know I shouldn’t say that, shouldn’t step closer, shouldn’t wrap my fingers around her wrist and pry the bottle out of her grip. But…I get it now.

I understand.

“This is about Tommy.”

The case gone wrong.

When she and Lex were in real danger.

They don’t make a habit of discussing their job in front of us, so I usually just hear bits and pieces—unless I’m eavesdropping, of course.

But I heard about Tommy.

About his funeral and his kids and his widow.

“Don’t,” she whispers.

I stop thinking about all the things I shouldn’t do and start doing what I should have years ago.

“Come here,” I order, wrapping my arms around her, drawing her against my chest. I smooth a hand over her curls. “I’m so sorry, cupcake.”

She exhales, and I don’t miss that it’s shaky.

So, I hold her a little tighter. “It wasn’t your fault.”

She lifts her head then, deep brown eyes damp with sadness.

“He died saving me,” she whispers. “If it wasn’t my fault then whose was it?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Athena

I regretthe words the moment they slip out of my mouth.

Stupid to admit them aloud.

That’s an inside thought, something that should remain buried.

But once I start, I can’t stop.

“He had kids, Cam,” I whisper. “And a wife. And—” My voice breaks and I slam my lids closed, hating that I can feel dampness clinging to the bases of my lashes. “I’m me.”

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