Oh God.
The fear left me then.
Not all the way.
But enough.
Enough to understand something important:
Hersh McDougal didn’t kill for power.
He killed for protection.
For survival.
For people who couldn’t save themselves.
My fingers stayed softly against his face.
Warm skin beneath rough stubble.
Real.
Alive.
“Hersh…”
His eyes stayed locked on mine.
Steady.
Braced for judgment anyway.
That alone nearly shattered me.
Because somewhere deep down?
Some part of him still worried I’d look at him differently now.
I stepped closer instead.
Not away.
Always toward him now.
“You saved her.”
The tension in his shoulders shifted instantly.
Small.
But I felt it.
Behind us, Trigger muttered quietly:
“Okay, now I’m emotional again.”
Wolf elbowed him without looking away from Hersh.
