Page 131 of Finding Our Reality

Ry snorts and shakes his head. “Let’s hope that’s not an indicator of what’s to come in her teenage years.”

“At least she has good taste in men.”

He pulls back, studying my face. Good humor and jealousy color his features in equal parts. “Something I should worry about? You carrying a torch for your old pal, Ridge?”

I lick my lips. “The only man I’ve ever carried a torch for has been you.” I kiss his jaw, running my tongue across the sexy stubble shading his face. “I love you, Ry.” He loves it when I say that. When I speak the truth.

His eyes grow heavy with desire. His head lowers and his hot breath tickles the sensitive skin below my ear. “Fuck yeah, you do.”

His body presses against mine, making me forget every dirty detail I trudged through today regarding the strangers I once called Mom and Dad.

Chapter 43

CRUTCH

The weather matches my mood.

It was supposed to be a beautiful, sunny, blazing-hot September day, but it’s not. Storm clouds rumble in the distance, blocking the sun. At least the temperature is bearable, especially when combined with the whipping wind. My ringing cell phone breaks the scowl on my face.

Marcum.

I only left him twenty minutes ago. I guess he wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to call and check on me. “Hey.”

“How you doing, son?”

All these years later, I still fill with warmth when I hear him call me that. It always makes me think of my grandpa. And Harlan. “I’m fine.” Considering I haven’t slept in thirty-one hours, I count not falling asleep behind the wheel as doing pretty damn good.

He grunts through the phone. “I highly doubt that.” He sighs, trying to grasp the right words. “Days like today are part of the reason we want to be a cop. But they’re also part of the reason we want to be anythingbuta cop.”

I swipe my hand over my face, thinking about the consuming relief that flooded my body when we found the little boy. And then I think about the overwhelming despair that engulfed my soul when I found out what all he’d been through. He was missing for just over twenty-four hours.

One day.

That’s all it took.

One day, and he’ll be fighting this trauma for the rest of his life.

“Crutch, I know you’ve been by yourself for a long time now. We’ve had tough calls like this before, and you’ve been able to go home and deal with it privately. You’ve been able to wallow in your fear and pity and anger all by yourself—for days, weeks. You’ve haven’t had to answer to anyone. That’s not the case now. You have Ella.

“Trust me, in the beginning, you won’t want to talk to her about the job, about the tough things. You’ll think it’ll be easier to keep it all inside. You think you’ll be sparing her feelings. But don’t. Don’t keep it inside. I’ve been married long enough to tell you that sharing your thoughts and emotions with your soulmate is the best kind of medicine for this kind of stuff. Don’t bottle it up.” He clears his throat. “If you keep it bottled up, it will kill you. A slow and agonizing death. You’ll lose her. Again. And I should know, back when I was your age, I bricked myself off from the world, and Nancy nearly left me. You don’t want that. I think we both know that neither of you would survive another breakup.”

He’s right. I wouldn’t make it. If Lulu left me, I would cease to exist.

I nod, eventually agreeing. “Okay, you’re right. I know you’re right.” I turn onto my driveway, counting down the seconds until our house comes into view. My voice lowers to a whisper. I’m ashamed to even say the words I’ve been thinking. “I wanted to kill him. I was praying he would do something stupid so I could kill him—fight, run, make one wrong move.” I blink, forcing images of the vile man to the back of my mind. “Fuck shooting him, I wanted to kill him with my bare hands, wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze until his windpipe popped and his eyes bled.” I take a deep breath, trying to rid myself of the violent thoughts. “I just kept thinking about Reality. If my daughter hadsurvived, is this the kind of world I would be raising her in? Could the same thing have happened to her? What about Laura? How am I supposed to keep her safe?”

“You keep her safe by being you. By doing the best you can. That’s all any of us can do.”

I end the call, pull the truck into the garage, and head into the house. In the mudroom, I remove my utility belt and put everything in its proper place while Lulu’s angelic voice floats through air. She must be in the kitchen. When I round the corner, the sight of her takes my breath away. If I were more of a puss, I’d break down into a pile of tears right now.

She’s standing at the kitchen bar, kneading dough with both hands. She must be on a conference call because her earbuds dangle from her ears, and her phone is close enough to touch but out of danger from any flying flour. On cue, she talks into the air. “I would agree with that assessment.” Sensing my presence, she turns to me and breaks into a huge grin. Her caramel eyes glitter in the morning sun, pouring from the window. She grabs the box of biscuit mix and shakes it in my direction, proudly showing off her attempt to make biscuits for breakfast.

She’s barefoot, wearing one of those short simple cotton skirts that she traipses around the house in. Her pink tank top and blue bra straps showcase the golden glow from her tanned shoulders. Despite the melancholy coursing through my veins, my body instantly responds to hers. My balls vibrate and my dick swells. It’s always that way. Itwillalways be that way. Even when we’re eighty, with gray hair, and covered in wrinkles.

I circle my arms around her. Her hair is piled high on top of her head in a lopsided ponytail, giving me free reign of her neck. I gently kiss the puffy scar given to her by her sister. She sighs and leans against me, rubbing her tight ass in all the right places. My fingertips graze against her thighs. Pulling her skirt up around her waist, I grab her panties and pull them down in oneswift movement. She freezes. I can feel her body swell beneath mine. The air charges with tangible electricity, filled with love and lust. It’s only been two seconds, but the smell of her desire fills my nostrils, making it hard to form a cohesive thought.

I fondle the perfect globes of her ass and plant my palm on the small of her back, bending her forward. She bites back a gasp, quickly pushing the half-kneaded dough out of the way. The box of biscuit mix clatters to the ground and a puff of flour dust covers the bottom of the cabinets.

“Mmm-hmm. That’s right, Michael.”

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