Page 109 of Recurve Ridge

“I played a part in too many of Gi—his crimes. Some small things that I arranged for him. Hookers and parties. It took me a bit to realize how naive and stupid I was then, how it would look, but nothing like this.” Her eyes welled with tears as she ran her hands down her arms that bore the marks of her horror. “I had no idea they were making slaves out of women.” Her eyes took on a distant look I hated, and Brandon’s words the night he passed echoed around the room.

I caught her chin in a firm but gentle grip to bring her back, tilting her head back so I could hold her gaze. “But there will be more if nothing is done about it.”

“You want to, don’t you?” she whispered. “You want to be the one who destroys him. But he’s dangerous, Robe. More than you can imagine. I don’t want you to get hurt because of my stupidity.”

“That wasn’t stupidity on your end, Mari. Corrupt men believe their power comes with no price. I know better. We all do.”

“I can’t tell you, Robe.” She nibbled her bottom lip. Her head tilted farther back of her own accord, though it must have hurt her like hell to do it, in an invitation I couldn’t deny.

I lowered my head, brushing my lips over hers. She sighed, leaning forward as Jon released her, melting in my arms, and I kissed her deeper, then sweeter until the taste of her seared into my tongue. My heart clenched on itself as I held her, willing her to do what I asked and deny me at the same time.

Go because you should.

Stay because I need you.

A moan worked its way from her mouth to mine. I wanted to be the air she fucking breathed.

When I drew back, her lashes framed heavy-lidded eyes crowning a curved body that begged to be fucked. I inhaled a slow breath before I broke my promise to myself not to touch her again, took her to my bed without anyone else in it, and let my control snap.

Then I’d be as bad as the assholes who tortured her, who made her run for her life.

I brushed my lips over hers, memorizing the shape of her mouth against mine.

“Stay,” I murmured against her lips. “Tell me what I need.”

Indecision warred in her midnight gaze, but then she relented. “Gideon Blackthorne was my boss. I… I….” Her bottom lip wobbled, but she held the impending tears at bay. “I didn’t see other faces. If I think of anything, I promise I’ll tell you.” She hiccupped. “I can draw really good stick figures.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I know that hurts to say.” I held her tight, my heart ripping into shreds. “You’re the bravest damn creature I’ve ever met. God, girl. I love you.”

“I know.” She smiled through her sheen of tears, tracing her fingertips along my cheek. Her touch burned like she’d branded her claim there.

She’ll come back.

I believed it. I had to.

I swallowed hard and pressed her back into Jon’s waiting arms, my decision made. He nuzzled at her neck, inhaling her scent. Then he looked at me with a closed face and nodded.

I withdrew a pair of keys on a single key ring from my back pocket and let them dangle from my fingers. Alan pressed a small pile of plastic cards into her hands.

She picked them up, examining the freshly printed driver’s license that featured her photo, albeit with a new name and address printed on it. “Marion Knight. Is that who I am now?” She traced a fingertip over the glossy card. “I can keep my first name?”At least in part.

The rest of the short stack included ID cards, enough to prove to the world that she was who we needed her to be. At the bottom of the pile sat a brand-new passport. A new identity to hide her from Blackthorne and thus Petersen, who kept his lapdog on a short, albeit invisible, leash. This identity gave her a new life and a chance to live it.

Alan tossed a phone into her hands. “Password’s the same as your old one, and it’s got all the same apps on it.”

“How do you know my passwords?” Mari stared up at him with wide eyes.

“It’s a talent, honey. I get to infiltrate everyone else’s life. I just don’t get to live mine.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yet you struggle with who you are,” Mari said, still staring at him.

Alan snorted. “Get out of here, sweetcakes, before I decide to keep you regardless of what the oaf tells you to do.”

Jon laughed, squeezing Mari’s waist between his giant paws.

She twisted to face him and pressed her hand over his heart. “My woodsman. My tin man,” she whispered. Fresh tears tracked her cheeks.

Jon stared down at her, unbreathing. Yearning filled his face. My heart broke a dozen times for him over his wife, and a dozen more now on his second round. Every time he found someone to love, they were swept away from him, outside his control.

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