Page 3 of I Will Save You

And Goddess help me, I want to smile back.

“If I were the monster, Paigelynn,” he says in a low register, dropping his voice, leaning closer to me as if he were about to give me a kiss on the mouth.

And not a bullet to the head.

“If I were the monster,” he repeats, “you’d be dead by now.”

“Then kill me.”

The flinch surprises me.

His eyes narrow. “Why wouldIkillyou? Unless you plan to try to killme.”

“Why would I try to kill you? You say you’re my husband and my king, but you’re treating me like an enemy!”

“No.”

I look at him, so confused.

“I amevaluatingyou to see if you’re an enemy. If I were treating you like an enemy, your blood would be pooling on the floor with theirs.”

“You killed those men in the van!”

“I killedoneof those men in the van. The big one. He was the one they sent to torture you. The Basher plays with his food.”

“What does food have to do with anything?”

The laugh is unexpected. It’s genuine and loose, like I’ve said something so surprising he can’t continue to be harsh. Dark waves fall over his brow, and he looks so casual, so amused.

So incredibly attractive.

“Oh, you sweet summer child. They kept you so naive, didn’t they?”

“I am not naive! I am yourqueen!”

Because he’s talking to and not shooting at me, my body starts to relax slightly, heart returning to its place in my chest, leaving my throat, resting somewhere under my collarbone.

“You think you’re a queen,” he says softly. “Right.”

“Iama queen! And you — unless that tattoo is a fake — you really are my husband and king.”

He goes still.

I’ve said something wrong. Deeply wrong. Butwhat?

“Stand up.”

I do as told, holding Winnie in my arms.

“Put her down.”

“No!”

“Put. Her. Down,” he says forcefully.

Bitter, acrid tears fill my throat. “Don’t kill her.”

“Why would I kill a dog?”

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