Page 87 of Outlaw

I sighed and ran a hand over her hair. She trusted him to protect her already. How easy it had been for him to walk into her life and become so important.

“I know, but he has work, and I’m here,” I replied, pressing a kiss to her head.

“But he will keep us safe,” she said with a hiccup.

He had kept us safe today. She just didn’t realize it. I’d thought that the security was silly. That he was going overboard. How wrong I had been.

Thirty-Nine

Branwen

Long after Stevie fell asleep and her death grip on me eased, I lay there, holding her. The what-ifs torturing me.

How had I not seen that side of Hudson? I replayed every instance where he could have gotten angry, and not one time had he ever exhibited that unstable, dangerous behavior.

Living here might be hard for me. Linc might break my soul. But it was right for Stevie. She had her father. He would always protect her. If she was safe and happy, then I could survive the effect it had on me.

When I finally got up and tucked her in tightly, then pressed a kiss to her head, I stepped into the hallway and stared at my bedroom door. I’d left my phone in there, but I had no one to tell. No one to talk to about this. The ladies from work I’d gotten close to all believed whatever Hudson was saying about me because not one of them had checked in with me. My worldhad been built around him.

It seemed I was meant to be alone. I had no lasting friendships. That should tell me something. The common denominator was me. I was the problem. When they had to choose, they didn’t choose me. Not Idris, not the women from work. I must be a bad friend. I tried to think about what it could be that made me the one no one wanted to keep.

I headed for the stairs. It was later than I normally stayed up, but I wanted to get something to drink. Maybe some wine. With my heart heavy and in a complete pity-party state, I stepped into the kitchen to find Luther, shirtless, in a pair of jeans that were unbuttoned, as if he had been about to remove them and stopped or had just put them on and not taken the time to fasten them. He was pouring a glass of milk, and there were cookies in a container beside his glass.

He glanced up at me. “Coming for a snack?” he asked as he put the top back on the gallon of milk.

I shrugged. “I was thinking more along the lines of a drink.”

His lips twitched. “You want wine or something stronger?”

“Wine.”

“Red or white?”

“Red.”

He put the milk back into the refrigerator, then walked over to the other side of it and pulled out a hidden rack that held at least three dozen bottles of wine. He stood in front of it, looking at different ones, then slid one out and pushed the rack back into the wall.

“Figure you’re not gonna drink it all, so I chose one I’ll finish off,” he said, then placed it on the counter and began to uncork it. “Sounds like you had some excitement today.” He cut his eyes up at me.

I scrunched my nose and pulled out a barstool across from him, then sat down. “Not what I’d call excitement.”

“At least you didn’t marry the crazy fucker.” He pointed out what I had already been dwelling on.

“Yep. That’s going to mess with my head for a while.”

He walked over and got down a wineglass, then filled it almost to the top. I looked at it, wide-eyed.

“Just drink it. You need it. You’re pale and wounded-looking,” he said, then reached for a cookie. “You know, I wasn’t so sure about this sunflower butter stuff, but, damn, these cookies are just as good as my peanut butter ones. I can’t even be mad about it.”

I picked up the glass as he took a bite and began to chew.

After taking a sip, I nodded my head toward his unbuttoned fly. “You often forget to button your jeans?”

He took a drink of milk, then shook his head. “Just sent my fuck home and didn’t have the energy.”

I choked on my wine and covered my mouth as I coughed.

Luther leaned over and patted my back. “Easy there.”

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