Page 146 of Bottles & Blades

A shaky breath, deep brown eyes holding mine, not sugarcoating it, showing me again how fucking strong she is when she admits, “Yeah, honey, I was.”

Christ.

Pain cuts through me.

“You could have been hurt.” My voice sounds like I’ve swallowed shards of glass.

“Yes,” she whispers. “I could have.”

My eyes slide closed. “I’m so sorry?—”

She shifts closer. “Jean-Mi.Honey. Look at me.”

I force my gaze to hers.

“Iknewyou were coming. IknewI would be okay. IknewI just had to hold on for a few more minutes because you will do anything to protect me. Which is why,” she says gently, her hand settling on my chest, “I know I’ll sleep easy tonight. Because you’ll be beside me. Because you’ll keep me safe. Because you’ll keep the nightmares away. Because I’mnot alone.”

My heart thuds. “Baby, I didn’t?—”

Shield her.

Save her.

She seems to hear the unspoken thoughts. “Attie’s team was here because of you.” Her hand presses more firmly against my chest. “Because you’ve been working with them, helping them. But even if they hadn’t come, hadn’t swooped in,youwould have.”

I swallow hard.

She touches my jaw. “I’m okay, honey.”

“I—” My voice breaks.

“I’mokay, honey.”

Fuck. She’s killing me.

I haul her against me, trapping that hand between us, and I focus on what Icancontrol, rather than the regret slicing through me, the guilt. “You’re having a security guard,” I growl. “Anytime you’re not with me you’re going to have someone watching your back.”

She nods. “Okay, honey.”

“And you’re moving in with me. We’re done with this two places shit. Done with that apartment. I don’t give a fuck that the lock is secure and the door is new and you have the Ring camera now. My place is safer, and you’re moving in. Starting tonight.”

“Okay, honey.”

“I don’t want any arguments,” I go on. “Angela might have disappeared again, might not be exactly the villain we thought she was. But she was here, is part of this shit, and I’m not taking any chances with you.” I fix her in place with a glare. “You’ll be in a house that has security, has people watching the feeds, and has fucking panic buttons so that?—”

“Jean-Mi.”

Her body presses even closer to mine, and her hand lifts to touch my jaw again.

There are bright red marks on her wrist and they send my rage spiking.

I want to punch holes in the wall.

I want to kill that motherfucker.

I want to killallof them.

But I hold it together.

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