Page 14 of Hot For Her Ex-Con

“Hey…” he murmurs, cupping my face in his hand. “I said I’d do better for us, and I will.”

“I know you will. I?—”

“I know.” He saves me the humiliation of gushing the words I’ve felt ever since I set eyes on him, echoing them back in his own special way without even saying them. The warm touch of his hand on me makes my heart explode in my chest.

I know he feels the same, and in a funny kind of way, not having him say it makes it all the more special somehow. To me, anyway.

There’s no way ‘I love you’ even comes close to how I feel about him, even after just one night.

I just hope like hell our first night together isn’t going to be our last.

CHAPTER 9

Killian

I’ve done dumber things…

The thought crosses my mind for the second time in as many days. Only this time, heading back to Carol’s feels like the right thing to do for a different reason.

The nagging memory I can’t reach, like something in a dream on the tip of my tongue that’s kept me up all night, feels so close to making sense. I have to follow my instincts.

Even though going back sounds like an idea Trap would have, it feels like the only way I can have a clean slate with Allison.

Breakfast is me shoveling food, watching Allison push some around her plate. When the highway diner fills up with enough cops seeking to do the same, I know it’s time for us both to leave.

We drive in silence, one of my arms around her and her hand in my lap the whole way.

I click my tongue loudly, sucking air in between my teeth once we turn into her street, feeling her tense up as her fingers claw into me.

“Killian?”

“It’s all right. It’s?—”

It’s shit is what it is. A sinking feeling grips me harder than Allison ever could—the familiar-looking van parked at an odd angle out on Carol’s front.

The state troopers block the road ahead, lights pulsing. It’s what I feared most all along—finding the girl who slept in that room and then having her taken away.

I can’t exactly blame Trap for this one, though. I can’t blame him for anything anymore.

Pulling up and killing the motor, I’m surprised when everyone outside the car puts their hands palms up, pressing the air in front of themselves as they all move closer.

“It’s all right, Killian. Allison? You’re all right. We just wanna talk, okay?”

I look down at Allison, watching her try and piece all of this together. Her eyes leave mine long enough to read the bold lettering on the van.

Woodside Psychiatric Hospital.

Carol emerges from inside, an officer holding her back when she makes to rush for the car, rushing for what has kept her up all night as well as me.

Her only daughter.

“I’m not leaving you, Killian. I’m not!” Allison growls protectively, looking mad as hell, but not with me.

“I’d better go talk to ‘em,” I explain, motioning with my chin for her to go join her Mom.

“It’ll be all right, Allison. Just do what they say for now. For me?” I ask her, not wanting to see her eyes when I tell her, not even knowing myself if I’ll ever see her again.

A tall man in a white coat comes into focus. That tip-of-my-tongue memory pops like balloons in my ears, leaving a familiar bad taste in my mouth.

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