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“Please, Theo.” I pull the sheets higher up my chest. “Please, go away.”
He’s too close. Too formidable and magnificent, and I want nothing more than to curl into his body, absolve the bad things he did, and remember the good.
“I need space. A few days to let it sink in.”
“I’m insanely in love with you. And I’m not letting you go,” he keeps talking as though he doesn’t hear me. “I swear, I won’t repeat what I did. I swear I won’t go behind your back again. Won’t lie to you, won’t betray your trust. You’re my soulmate. My queen. You’re not leaving me.”
“Theo, I won’t, but you have to listen—”
My choked plea is cut off.
Theo isn’t the one who’s behind why I’m silenced, though.
Both our heads twist in the direction of the living room when the lock on the front door clicks. The door bursts open.
Before I see who’s there, Theo’s feet land on the floor, his firm body covering and protecting me.
“You bitch!” the man whose voice I recognize as my dad screams. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
Theo growls, a low and rumbly sound that has the hairs on my hands stand on end. He bends his knees, fists at his sides, ready to strike.
“Not if I kill you first, bitch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Theo
Thankfuckingfuckhedidn’t show up here earlier. While I was gone.
As I look at Prue’s disgusting excuse for a father, Zeke Peterson, I thank the God I haven’t believed in until today.
It’s been nine hours since I had the talk with his sidekick, Elias. Five hours since I kicked Jason in the gut.
That’s nine hours to lose his shit over the threat I made, over the fact the money supply he thought he had coming from Jason and Prue has been cut short.
Nine hours to break in here, terrorize Prue, hurt her.
Kill her.
Something’s kept him out of her way. Has shielded my woman while I’ve been out protecting her from another predator.
Divine intervention. That’s what it is.
I guess there is a God out there, after all.
Thank you, old man,I say inwardly.
I’ll thank him more thoroughly later. Will get down on my knees and show my gratitude through prayer. Not now.
There’s a raging threat in Prue’s doorway, and I’m here to take him down.
“What did you say to me?” His speech is slurred, and his walk is wobbly.
I take in his worse broken-down appearance, his tattered blue T-shirt, mustard-yellow cotton pants, and a pair of mismatched boots. He’ll be easy to subdue.
To snuff out.
“Theo, be careful,” Prue calls from behind me.
