Page 103 of Desperate Needs

“Coral, call Pop,” I told her, tossing her the cell phone I’d had in my pocket that our kidnappers never found.

“Tell him everything.”

Epilogue 1-Connor

My entire body hurt so damn bad as I opened my eyes, finally freed from the blackness I seemed stuck in.

I was confused, panicked, even.

Clementine! My inner voice screamed, and I barely had a chance to recognize it was my voice. Not that old bastard’s.

She was more important to me than old hurt’s and anything else from my past. She was everything. Panic caused my lungs to squeeze, but she had to be okay.

She just had to be. I couldn’t do any of this without her.

I needed Clementine. My Darlin’.

Always her. Only her.

The need to get up and find her was this powerful driving force, but clearly the drugs I was on were still running the show. I couldn’t do a thing to disguise the whimper that leaked out of my mouth as I tried to sit up too soon.

“Hey, stop that. The doctor said he was going to kick your butt if you tore those stitches again.”

That voice.

I stopped struggling. I turned my head and saw the most beautiful fucking thing I ever saw in my life.

“Darlin’? Thank fuck. You’re okay,” I said, breathing heavy as my woman scooted closer to me her soft hands cupping my cheeks.

“Of course, I am, you crazy man. You risked your life for me.”

Her emerald gaze was staring me down with pure adoration and I wanted so damn bad to tell her, but my mouth felt like I’d swallowed gravel, and I grimaced as I tried to find the words.

“Wait. Here,” she murmured, scooting off the bed and moving away from me, which I hated.

Then she came back and fed me some water through a bendy straw, which I loved even if I looked like an idiot.

Not my fault. No man looked good drinking from a fucking bendy straw.

“Where am I?” I asked, recognizing this was not a hospital.

“The farm,” she explained, sitting back on the bed when I refused to release her hand.

“How long?”

“Eighteen hours,” she whispered, touching my face like she couldn’t believe this was real.

But it was. I was still breathing. Alive and mostly whole. All because of her.

“Is it still Christmas?”

She nodded.

“For a few more hours,” she said, smiling and looking so damn beautiful I could have cried.

“How is he?” a familiar voice interrupted, then in walked Balor, Liam, Clementine’s father, and a few of her uncles I recognized.

“Alive,” I said, my voice still sounding rough.

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