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“All I want is you.” I offer him a warm smile. “I’m easy to please.”
He smirks as if it’s the furthest thing from the truth he’s ever heard, and I slap his chest.
“Hey, I am.”
“Don’t worry.” He leans in, his lips hovering over mine. “I like you demanding. Particularly when you’re in our bed.”
I melt into him, wishing we had more time to go do exactly that. My hormones have been insane, and even though I’m uncomfortable ninety percent of the time, I can’t seem to get enough of Judge. I know I’ve been exhausting him more when he comes home at night and I reach for him in the dark, scrambling to get him any way I can. But he hasn’t complained, so I figure it’s fair play.
“Later,” he promises in a raspy voice, clearly amused by the longing in my expression.
And with that dark assurance, he takes me by the hand and leads me to the car. Raul drives us to The Society hospital that’s housed Theron during his recovery, but I know Judge has been making alternate plans. Theron will need rehabilitation, and Judge has sought out the best team for that part of his recovery as well. I don’t know when they’ll be moving him, but I suspect it will be soon.
When we arrive, a strange flutter of nerves erupts in my belly as Judge leads me to Theron’s room. Quite honestly, I never thought I’d have to face him again. I never wanted to. But I know now, after Judge confirmed Theron has been struggling with addiction, that he’s been battling his own demons. It isn’t an excuse for what happened, but at least in a way, I can understand.
I am not without sin myself, and if I were following my religious scruples, I shouldn’t be the one to cast stones. In other words, I’ve done some pretty fucked-up things in my own life, and coming from that place, I understand there has to be space for forgiveness. Not only for his sake, but my own.
“You can always change your mind.” Judge stops at the door with Theron’s name beside it, his hand squeezing mine. “I’ll take you home right now if you want.”
“No.” I force a smile and shake my head. “I want to do this.”
He nods, but the concern doesn’t leave his eyes. And then, just like we’re ripping off a Band-Aid, he opens the door, and we step inside.
I don’t know what I’m expecting exactly, considering the severity of Theron’s injuries and the fact that he barely scraped through. In my head, I imagined him lying prone in his bed, barely able to fend for himself. Yet the scene before us is anything but a helpless man.
He is in his bed, of course, but he’s propped up by a stack of pillows behind him. The low murmur of the television plays in the background, but he’s not focused on that. No, his attention is on the two pretty nurses at his side, one fussing over his food while the other shaves his face. Both of them wearing smiles entirely too large.
Judge arches a brow at the scene just as Theron returns it with a devilish grin. That grin falters briefly as he turns his attention to me, and something shifts in the room. I feel it in the shiver that moves over my spine, the memory of that awful night not too distant.
In some ways, it feels like a lifetime ago. But in others, the wound feels fresh because it hasn’t been dealt with. Not really. When I came to face him, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But this charming version of Theron is the one that I first met. The man with the handsome features and easy smile. A quick wit, which he’s obviously been using to entertain the nurses. All of these details were so non-threatening that I quickly warmed to him. But I know, even now with his eyes clear and the solemn expression that falls over him, he still has demons to battle.
“Thank you, ladies,” Theron says dismissively. “Let’s resume this another time.”
The nurses glance at us, trying and failing to adopt a professional demeanor before they quickly shuffle out of the room at his command. I have an urge to roll my eyes, but I don’t. Because Theron’s are still locked on me, and I know he has something to say before he even begins.
“Mercedes.” He nods at me. “I’m flattered you’d come to see me. Unless… perhaps, you were hoping I was really dead?”
Though his voice has a teasing lilt, there is a hint of vulnerability beneath it. Like maybe that’s what he expects from everyone in his life. That we’d all wish that for him.
“Actually, no. That’s not why I’m here.”
Judge tucks me against his side protectively, his hand wrapping around my lower back to settle on the curve of my hip. An awkward silence falls over the room, and then Theron sits up straighter, wincing as he does.
“I owe you an apology,” he confesses. “And if you’ll hear me out, I’d like to give that to you now.”
“It’s not necessary.” I lean into Judge, grateful for the strength of his body right now. “I don’t want your apology.”
Disappointment flashes through Theron’s eyes as they drift to my very pregnant belly, and I can only wonder if he’s thinking about what he’ll miss out on. That he’ll always be distant from his family.
“Mercedes—” he tries again, but I shake my head and cut him off.
“I don’t want your apology because we’re even,” I tell him. “You saved our lives. You saved Judge’s life. And for that…” I stumble over the words, almost too choked up to speak. “I’m grateful.”
He shifts, clearly uncomfortable by the display of emotion, and at that moment, I see so many similarities between him and Judge. And I can’t help feeling a pang of warmth toward him. Naturally, Theron being a Montgomery, he has to ruin that.
“I suppose I am due some credit,” he says thoughtfully. “You can repay me by naming one of your spawns after me.”
Judge snorts, and I shake my head. And just like that, some of the tension dissolves.
