Page 328 of Wicked Brutal

I close my eyes. “I know.”

“She should be here.”

“I know.”

“She would’ve loved Tobias’s room.”

My throat closes. “Yeah.”

“And the nursery.”

“Yeah.”

A sob catches against my chest. “She should’ve gotten to see us here.”

I press my mouth to her hair. “I know, baby. I love you. I’ve got you.”

Her hand finds mine over her stomach and holds on. “I love you too.”

My hand spreads a little wider over our baby.

Down the hall, Tobias is safe. Ally is in my arms. Our baby still has a heartbeat. Jane got all three of them out. She just didn’t get to come with them. And there isn’t a fucking thing I can do to fix that.

So I do the one thing Darla told me I could.

I stay.

Iwake up because Ryan moves his hand.

My eyes open before the rest of me catches up. Dark green walls. His pillow under my cheek. Morning light slipping around the curtains. Ryan’s chest against my back, his arm around my waist. For one stupid, beautiful second, that’s all there is.

Then his hand settles over my stomach again. And I remember. Mom. The front steps. The sound her head made. Blood spreading beneath her. Me screaming. Ryan screaming. Hands pulling me away from her. The pain. More blood. The hospital.

I close my eyes. It doesn’t put any of it back.

Ryan’s breathing changes behind me. “You awake?”

“Yeah.”

His hand doesn’t leave my stomach. “Pain?”

“Same.”

“Cramping? Dizzy?”

“No. And I haven’t checked for bleeding yet.” He starts to move. I catch his wrist. “Ryan.” I roll carefully until I’m facing him. He watches every inch of it like I’m made of glass, and the second I’m settled, his hand goes right back to my stomach. I cover it with mine. “I love you.”

Something in his face breaks. Not completely. Just enough. “I love you too.” He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine.

I close my eyes. “I really fucking love you.”

“I know.”

I open them. “You’re supposed to say it back.”

“I really fucking love you too.”

His mouth touches mine. Soft. Careful. Nothing like the kisses we used to steal because we weren’t supposed to have them. Nobody can tell us we aren’t supposed to have them anymore. The thought should make me happy. Instead, tears fill my eyes.