Page 470 of Dark Love

“A mental hospital?”

Vex nods.

“When can I meet her?”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Positive.”

“It might not be for a while with your work schedule.”

Adonis would understand. But I can’t tell him. “I’ll ask for Tuesday off tomorrow.”

“You don’t need to do that, Dahl.”

I really do, but he doesn’t understand what life was like for me before. If I can help someone else and in turn be helped by myself, then I NEED to do this. “Tuesday. Or let me know if another day would be better.”

“Dahl, are you sure?”

Somehow, this man is more afraid than I am. “As long as I have your arms wrapped around me, you don’t need to worry about a thing.” That was probably the wrong thing to say, but it’s the truth. “Now on to the important question. Should I make ‘get well soup’ or ‘feel better bread’.”

Vex chuckles. “Maybe you should make both. I’ll taste-test them and tell you which one to bring.”

“You mean you’ll eat them both and tell me to make your favorite again.” I grab my book off the floor and twist around so that I can ‘rest on the pillows’.

An arm wraps around me almost immediately.

“Now it’s a perfect day again.” I don’t bother to hold in the sigh.

Videos and Big Problems

Vex

My favorite new toy is Dahlia’s security system. Not being able to see her in the evenings when I’m at the club wasn’t acceptable. Now I get to watch over her even when I’m here.

Dahlia is tired. Not the type of tiredness that comes from being unhappy. But I still hate the idea that she’s working as hard as she is.

The smile on her face is worth burning the world to the ground.

Baking means more than a simple gift. It makes her happy.

But that doesn’t matter. She’s still not making cookies for another man. Those are all mine.

Just like she’s mine.

Who would have thought watching a woman kneading dough would be as sexy as it is?

A knock sounds at my office door, and I want to throw something at whoever it is. “WHAT?”

Shock pokes his head in. “I have that report for you.”

He got out of his chair to bring me a stack of papers. “How bad is it?”

“Um… If anyone else but you had asked, I would have run and hid under a rock somewhere for the next decade.”

Don’t tell me that. I don’t want to hear stuff like that. All I want is a simple this guy is or isn’t a human trafficker so I can deal with him or move on. Problems like the ones found in a stack of paper mean time. Time away from Dahlia, and time cleaning up messes that I don’t want to deal with. What did Dyce get me into?

She owes me for this.

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