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Pulling her chin up, so her eyes met his, he studied her. Tapping the top of her head twice, he asked, "How about up here?"
"I'm fine, Ford."
"You don't seem fine. What's going on, Meg?"
"How did he get over to Chestnut Street? And, it seems like my fault, I assumed he wouldn't fair well with Marcus, but ..."
"Hey." Her sad green eyes bored into his. "It was a shitty decision for anyone to have to make. You or him. No one wants to have to make a decision like that. But, I made that one. Me. I told you to get out. I forced you out, Meg. I can bear that on my shoulders; you don't have to."
Her eyes glittered with fresh tears. As the moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes, he swiped the fresh tears away.
"I didn't have to listen to you."
"Yes, you did. You can't honestly believe Marcus would have left you alive after you witnessed him kill Waylon."
She swallowed. Her lips parted as if she had something to say, but nothing came out. "They live a different life, Meg. They care about drugs and money. Life means squat to people like that. Do you get me?"
Her head nodded slightly since he still held her chin. She swiped her tongue over her lips. "You didn't point your gun at Bobby Ray."
His brows furrowed. "What?"
"Everyone else had their guns pointed at Bobby Ray when he had me in front of him, but you didn't."
Releasing her chin, he dragged his fingers through her hair and held her head, the silken drape over his raw knuckles a balm. "I wasn't going to risk accidentally shooting you. You can't possibly think it was because I didn't want to shoot him, ‘cause God's honest truth, Meg, I'd like to go over and shoot him in that car right the fuck now for touching even a hair on your head." His fingers moved to the marks on her neck, softly petting the reddened skin. "In my anger, I was afraid I'd make a mistake."
The flood gates opened then, and her tears flowed like an opening dam. He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She felt good, fit him perfectly.
South Pass Chief of Police, Chief Monroe, strode to them. "Prison transport is here, Ford. Unless you have something important to add regarding the events here today, you're both free to go."
Her sad eyes, still the color of fresh spring grass captured his and his body zinged to life. She had that effect on him.
"Are you ready to go?"
Her doleful lips trembled with a half-smile. "Yeah."
"Where am I taking you?"
Her body stiffened in his arms, and she stepped away from him. Hurt crushed her features, and he shook his head to catch up to what was happening here.
"I don't ..." Her lips trembled, but she pulled them between her teeth. Taking a deep breath, then exhaling, she continued, "I don't have anywhere to go."
Chapter39
This was it. She'd been dreading it most of the day. Of everything else that was going on, she knew he'd break up with her. Not that they were together; he was still married, after all, but he'd tell her they were through. It sunk like a dagger in her heart. Hot, blazing, and damaging as if he had actually pierced her with a knife. She didn't want to cry in front of him. Through all of this, she'd been amazingly stoic and brave, but now … now she felt like she would be reduced to a pile of ash in a split second.
"What do you mean by that?" His handsome face held concern and something she couldn't describe.
"I mean, my house is all but gone, and I don't think I can even live there anymore knowing ..."
He closed the distance between them, his masculine scent wrapping itself around her, that smoky leather smell mixed in with a bit of muskiness from his exertion earlier. Oh, how she'd miss that smell.
"Megan, honey. You have an Airbnb for tonight if you want it."
Oh. God. How humiliating. Her knees threatened to buckle.
"Or we can go home to Lynyrd Station on the Hill."
Her eyes snapped to his. Did he just say what she thought he said? "What?"
