Page 100 of My Secret to Protect

‘He’s—’ he presses his lips together like he doesn’t want to tell me what’s on his mind. ‘He’s still alive. Dad has him at the club, waiting for me.’

His words sink in, and I take a minute to process them. The man who stole my life with Arlo, had him locked up, kept us apart for so long, and helped Nolan kidnap me is being kept on ice until Arlo is ready to kill him.

Is he asking my permission? Or is he worried that I’ll react badly?

‘Why haven’t you gone?’

I see that my question surprises him, and he leans back in his chair.

‘Bree, he won’t be the first man I’ve put down,' he admits and I swallow at the confirmation of suspicions I never voiced. 'But I can’t make it quick with him. I can’t simply put a bullet in him. I won’t give him that mercy, and I don’t want you to feel differently about me after that.’ He takes a breath. ‘I want to make him regret ever being born. I want to be the man to send him back to the hell he came from, but the way you look at me means more to me than my need for vengeance.’

‘Baby, come here.’ With another deep breath, Arlo moves to stand, and I try to move on the bed to make room for him, wincing at the pain in my abdomen, and he stops me.

‘Jesus, Bree, stop. Even if you were able to move, this bed won’t take both of us.’

I smile up at him and lift his hand to my lips now, kissing his knuckles the way he had kissed mine.

‘Do you look at me differently after seeing me empty a magazine into Nolan?’ He shakes his head and smiles just a little. ‘I killed a man right in front of you. I could have stopped after the first shot the way it tore through him, but I didn’t. I wanted to shred him. I didn’t want there to be anything left.’ Fuck, I remember it. I remember the violent hatred I felt at that moment. ‘Does that change how you look at me, Arlo? Does it change how you love me?’

‘No, pix, it doesn’t.’ He drops his head. ‘But you’re a cop. The law is in you. You swore to uphold it, and I’ve tried my hardest since I got out to walk on the right side of that line.’

‘My job is something I need to think about, Arlo, but this, putting him down—that’s not something I want you to worry about.’ I reach up and cup his cheek with my hand. ‘Wipe the slate clean, baby. Do what you need to do to wipe the slate. You and I have a life together to start living, and if you don’t do this, I’m afraid it’ll eat at you.’

Pulling back, Arlo gazes at me with what looks like surprise in his eyes.

‘It won’t be quick, Bree. I might need some time.’

‘Take all the time you need, then come back when you’re ready to start this life with me.’

Leaning in, Arlo presses his mouth to mine, parting my lips with his and rolling his tongue across mine. The kiss is deep, full of love, and way too passionate for a hospital room, but I don’t care. I’m alive, and the love of my life is right here, holding my hand.

You Want a Little Atmosphere, Kid?

Arlo

Thedoortothebasement creaks open and I smile at the sinister sound as I start my descent into the darkness, literally and metaphorically.

My dad is behind me, and he shuts the door as my boots grind on the dust and debris littering the concrete floor, and I pull the cord to illuminate the single, hanging lightbulb.

This is the first time Horse and I have come face to face in years, and he grins, bloody and toothless, as he lifts his head at my arrival.

‘Today’s the day, huh?’ He sounds weak, tired. I’m not surprised. When my dad said he’d keep him alive for me, he meant he would do just enough to keep him ticking: sips of water, a couple of crackers a day. When I called my dad yesterday and asked him to make sure Horse was well-fed and hydrated, he laughed, knowing I wanted two things: I wanted him to last long enough for me to enjoy myself, and I wanted him to bleed.

‘Today is the day. Well, maybe.’ I smile, knowing it’s menacing, as my hatred for the man in front of me shines brightly. ‘We might run over into tomorrow, the next day, the next week.’

I sound bored as I peruse the table of instruments my dad had laid out for me, and Horse laughs.

‘You’ve been gone a long time, Arlo. You sure you still have that in you?’

I have to respect the pair on the guy, but then again, when you’re faced with certain death, you’ve got nothing to lose.

I move a chair, positioning it in front of him and sitting, comfortable in the fact that I am in no rush here.

‘You got a girl, Horse? An old lady? Someone sweet you keep around?’

I see the flare of his nostrils and the rage in his widening eyes.

‘Oh!’ I grin, ‘What do you say, Dad, should we bring her in here, see how much I still have it in me? We could call it practice.’ I would never hurt her, whoever she is, nor would my dad—that’s not the kind of men we are. She’ll be brought into the club, and one of the other members will talk her into his bed and his property patch before long. Horse knows that, but right now, pain, fear, and fury run through him, and he fights against his restraints.

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