Page 61 of Protector

“To be honest,” I admitted. “I don’t have a plan. For any of it. I thought that I’d finish them off and then go to her, but I just don’t know.”

Wolverine scratched at his beard with a slow nod. “You ever stopped to think about what she wants?”

It was all I thought about.

My last encounter with her had fucked with my head for days. How was I supposed to regain the upper hand while making her feel like she was in control? It was impossible.

“Old man, I think about what she wants every second of every goddamn day. Don’t mean shit if those fuckers are still out there though.”

Manny’s groans of pains blended with the chanting into one perfect soundtrack of torture.

“Have you ever asked yourself what it is that’s kept you from killin’ the gangbanger? You’ve had the opportunity to send him to the Reaper, but you pull back. Why is that?”

“We’ve been over this. I don’t know—”

“Think,” he interjected. “What does your girl want more than anything right now?”

Other men in my position wouldn’t have wasted time with hypothetical conversations, but Wolverine was like Slim in that he always seemed to know how to break through to me.

Realization dawned, and I looked up at him incredulously. “You’re serious? You want me to hand him over to her to finish off?”

“Normally, I’d be against an Ol’ Lady dolin’ out any sort of punishment. This ain’t their club, and they don’t call the shots; but the way I see it, you can kill two birds with one stone here. Club don’t even have to know it was her.”

My fingers curled into fists at the thought of him being close to her again, but Wolverine had presented the perfect solution. I’d had the answer staring me in the face for the past three months.

I ran my tongue over my teeth with a grin.

I suddenly knew exactly how to get my woman back.

* * *

A switch was flipped on in the laundry room, sending a stream of light across the back yard and directly into my eyes. It was the only room in the house without blinds and the one that she seldom entered at night.

After checking my watch, I sat up in the hammock and watched as Celia carried an armful of laundry over to the washer. The sight of her messy curls and sleep-scarred face left my cock aching, but it was the look of fear on her face that had me up and moving toward the back door without another thought.

The lock was engaged, and it took some searching before I found the spare hidden underneath a garden gnome in a nearby planter. The sound of the door opening seemed magnified in the silence, and I held my breath as I crept toward the laundry room.

I didn’t want to startle her, but I just needed to know she was okay. The washer was shaking violently when I entered the empty room, and I belatedly remembered that I was supposed to have replaced the suspension springs on it a few years before. It slammed into the side of the dryer with such force that an entire army could’ve entered the house and I doubted Celia would’ve heard it.

First thing tomorrow, they’d both be replaced.

The nursery door was closed, and I paused just outside, fighting the urge to go in and see Kate and Dakota. I realized the vision of them in my head was all wrong. Kate was a teen, not a toddler, and given what I’d heard about Dakota, me calling her a baby would end bloody.

I’d come for their mother, though.

Light spilled out from around the master bedroom door, and I silently pushed it open before entering. The bed had been stripped down to the mattress, and the floor was littered with uncovered pillows.

My pulse began to race as I scanned the room for Celia before spotting her in the bathroom. She sat in the tub with her back to me.

“Cry,” she stated, in a voice that sounded nothing like hers. She repeated the word, and I watched in horror as she picked up a razor blade and ran it sideways across her arm. Blood welled to the surface and trailed over her skin, but she didn’t even flinch. “Cry.”

“Celia?” I rushed in, only to be knocked flat on my back. I blinked until my vision cleared and looked up into the eyes of a stranger.

The softness I’d seen in glimpses the last time we were together was completely gone, replaced by a hardness that only came from surviving the unthinkable.

“Why are you here?” She demanded, digging the blade into my throat. Every nerve ending in my body went haywire at the feel of her naked body on top of mine, even as my brain tried reminding me that she had a weapon.

“Why are you doin’ laundry in the middle of the night?” I croaked, struggling to move. I managed to sit up, only to be knocked back to the tile in a way that didn’t seem physically possible.

---