Page 98 of Needing Your Love
He loved me, his heart spoke without words—without doubt.
Warmth flooded my chest, and a watery smile curved my lips.
Sutton bent down, calloused palms cradling my face, gaze filled with other emotions I couldn’t begin to pick apart. “I would do anything to keep you safe, sweet boy of mine. I’ll see you soon.”
Mine—his.
Unable to speak past the lump in my throat, I nodded, trusting him to keep his word.
Officer Davidson approached at Sutton’s beckoning, and I sat in the back of his cruiser while woodenly explaining the facts of what had happened from the time Kurt had come barreling into the shop until Sutton had cradled me in his arms. What I’d seen, anyway. Half of the torturous minutes had been spent in a flashback from hell. As much as I hated to admit to my childhood trauma and how I sometimes lost touch with reality, I told Officer Davidson so he would understand the missing seconds from whatever timeline the investigation put together.
He was full of empathy and didn’t push for more before saying the sheriff’s department would be in touch.
Twenty minutes later, Dex managed to get us through the crowd, into his Jeep, and to Sutton’s.
The beat-up car Darla had driven was gone.
A heavy exhale sank me into Dex’s passenger seat, and he muttered a “Thank fuck,” which I heartily agreed with.
We hadn’t spoken a word on the short ride, and the quietness remained until we got inside, the door closed firmly and locked behind us.
The scent of coffee and bacon lingered, even though it seemed hours had passed since I’d felt betrayed and had escaped Sutton’s house without a backward glance.
Dex and I removed our coats and shoes, and I headed into the kitchen, determined to be a good boy for Sutton. I put the somewhat dried-out breakfast left cold on the table into the microwave and poured two mugs of coffee from the carafe.
“You should eat Sutton’s food,” I suggested quietly to Dex, who stood in the kitchen doorway as though unsure of what to do.
We sat at the kitchen table, Dex chowing down, me picking at the scrambled eggs Sutton had made for me.
Dex finished and sat back, hand wrapped around his coffee mug. “Want to talk about it?”
I shuddered. “Fuck no.”
“I’m sorry for antagonizing you.”
I nodded, finding the perfectly fried bacon that had gotten too crisped in the microwave more interesting than meeting Dex’s gaze.
“Sutton really cares about you. And even though I give you both shit, you’re good for each other.”
“I’m a lot,” I whispered, pushing aside my half-emptied plate.
Coward. Whore. Worm.
Dex snorted.
“No—I mean I’ve got too much damned baggage.” I shrugged, even though the words in my mind were more hurtful than I wished they were. “I’m broken.”
“Ever see a therapist?”
What was with everyone and their brother asking me that question?
“No. Can’t stand the thought of living through it all over again, but what went down today…” I shook my head, trying like hell not to get lost in the nightmare that had played out before my eyes and memory. “Brought everything back, you know?” My voice wavered, and I hugged myself as my lower lip trembled. “But it’s time to face this shit head-on,” I told myself more than I did Dex. “Take care of it so I can love Sutton without these insecurities and wounds showing up over and over, attempting to ruin things between us.”
“Sutton will hold your hand through it if you’ll let him. That man would lay down his life—hell, he’d walk away from Pippen Creek and his responsibilities if you asked him to.”
My focus jerked up to find Dex’s steady gaze on my face. “I would never do that! This town relies on him—needs him.”
He reached over and clasped my shoulder. “Glad to hear it. I kinda like having my best friend around.”
