Page 147 of Finding Our Reality

But not when the victim is our wife.

I take a tentative step toward her. We’re so close I can feel her breath dance across my skin. It’s silent but labored, like she’s about to start hyperventilating. “Lulu?”

Her hand plays with the scar on the back of her neck and her eyes keep darting to the officers as they work with Phillip.

Slowly, I reach around. Gently knocking her hand away, I replace it with my own. I rub my calloused fingers over her scar. Back and forth, just the way she likes. “Lulu?”

She blinks, trying to focus. Licking her lips, she swallows. The movement draws my attention to the petechia and red marks on her neck. It’s undeniably fingerprints. He tried to strangle her. She’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow. Fury ignites my anxiety, making my heart thunder against my ribcage like a freight train.

She coughs, trying to clear the pathway for her voice. Her strained whisper breaks my heart. “He killed my sister.”

I nod. “I know.”

“And her baby.”

My shredded heart breaks even more. “I know.”

Finally, her eyes find mine. “He tried to kill me.”

I nearly collapse.

I need her. Holy shit, I need her like I need air to breathe. I was nearly too late. This is all my fault. I should’ve put the pieces together before now. I can’t believe I let this happen to her.

How can she ever forgive me?

Again.

She can’t stop the tears as they flow down her face. She wipes her eyes, smearing her expensive eye makeup down her cheeks.

And then…

She smiles.

One soft smile. Just for me.

“I hate crying in front of people.”

That’s the only invitation I need.

Hauling her into my arms, I sweep her from her feet and carry her from the room. With every step I take, her sobs grow louder and louder. She wraps her arms around my neck, struggling to grip me tighter and tighter. If she could crawl inside my body right now, she would.

And I would do the same fucking thing.

Racing from the house, I breathe a sigh of relief when we step into the night air. The sky is a fireworks display of swirling red and blue lights. Dozens of people mill around. Radio chatter drowns the symphony of the once-calm night.

Pulling down my tailgate, I carefully set Lulu on the back of my truck. She doesn’t even get one single inch away from me before I’m crashing my mouth to hers. Her lips are dry and hot. Grabbing the sides of her face, I drive my tongue into her mouth. She immediately kisses me back. As always, she gives just as much as she takes. Her fingers grab my waist, pulling me between her legs. She wildly grabs at my shirt. I carefully take the gun from my back waistband and lay it out of harm’s way on the truck, never breaking my connection with her. When she finally untucks my shirt from my slacks and her fingers slide across the muscles of my abdomen, she sighs in relief and her body relaxes.

Eventually, we both need to breathe. We stop kissing, but I don’t let her go. I wrap her in a hug. Her fingers tangle in my hair. Tucking my lips against the shell of her ear, I tell her I love her. She buries her face in the crook of my neck, soaking me with her tears. I can’t be sure, but I may be crying too.

“I love you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, Lulu. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I love you.”

“I love you. Ry, I love you.”

She’s breaking the rules.

I’m caught off guard when Marcum clears his throat. Pulling my head away from Lulu, I see him standing right beside us. By the looks of it, I would assume he’s been standing there a while.

But he’s not embarrassed. And neither am I.

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