Page 136 of Dagger

I felt a tear track down my cheek. “Can we?”

His hand cupped my face, and his thumb swiped the moisture from my skin. “Didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“It’s not you, John,” I reassured him. “I feel everything after years of feeling nothing, and it’s a lot.”

“Got more to go,” he said, his golden eyes seeping over my face. “Can you handle it?”

I smiled. “I’m too curious to say no.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Come on,” he encouraged excitedly. “Get in.” Opening the door for me, he swept his hand out with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits.”

I rolled my eyes at how corny he was behaving, but secretly, I loved it. The John of old would have never been so cheesy. Maybe it was because we were older, but it seemed romantic, especially as it wasn’t the norm for him.

I pulled myself up into the cab and rested my ass on the bench seat, pulling a long draw of air in through my nose. Old, worn leather and John’s cologne assailed my senses, and nostalgia hit me directly in the chest. Being here again, next to John, in the passenger seat of Bessie had taken me back to a time of pure joy.

Bessie represented everything good in my life, everything that had kept me going through the darkness. So many times, I’d wondered if it was worth existing. I’d lived such a soulless life that I went to bed every night empty and not wanting to wake up. Then I’d dream of John, the creek, and goodnight kisses in Bessie. It gave me hope that maybe one day, I could find that joy again.

The familiar sound of the engine filled the garage, and John slid his arm across the back of my seat, twisting his neck to look out the rear window.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his beard twitching as he grinned.

“Never been more ready in my life,” I sassed.

John laughed, and suddenly, we were on the move. He reversed the truck from its space, turned the wheel, and drove down the row of vehicles and through the doors into the now dimming evening light. The sun in the distance was low. Nightfall would be here soon.

The barrier lifted and John turned onto the main road, taking a route that was familiar.

My chest ached. “Where are we going?”

He glanced at me, then back at the road. “There’s only one place this road leads to, Leesy. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Despite his teasing, the ache in my chest intensified. “I don’t want to go down the creek.”

I watched his forehead crease. “Why?”

“Because it’s not our creek anymore. It’s changed. You built on it.”

“Leesy,” John drawled. “We talked about this when we bought the warehouse. You knew the land backed onto the creek. We talked about building houses down there ‘cause we wanted our own community.”

I twisted my legs up and turned on my side until I faced John. “I always thought we’d preserve the tree. The last time I was down there was when I met you to talk, and they were building a house right by it. I swore from then on, I’d stay away. I know things change, and life moves on, but that tree symbolized so much of us, so to see it torn down would be like tearing me down, too.”

John let out a chuckle.

“Hey,” I cried, slapping his arm.

He glanced at me again. “Do you trust me?”

I thought about his question before automatically answering and concluded that out of the many people I knew, John was among the ones I trusted with my life purely because he’d savedit. John had protected me in so many ways since I’d been here. How could I not trust him?

“Yeah,’ I breathed. “I trust you.”

“Do you trust that I’d cut off my own arm before I’d knowingly hurt you?” he asked.

My gaze caught on his beautiful hands on the steering wheel. His fingers were long, his nails short and clean. The veins protruding from them conveyed strength and capability.

Those hands had loved me, and I knew they’d also kill for me.

My gaze slid back to his face. “I know you’d never knowingly hurt me,” I admitted.

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