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He shakes his head. “Still no sign of them. They’re working on it, though.”
“What happens if they don’t find them? We can’t hide here forever.”
“We won’t. Once you’re back on your feet properly, we’ll go home.”
“Home,” I muse.
“My home. Our home,” he corrects.
“Right,” I breathe, thinking of the home Alana and I created over the last five years.
Is that it? Are we just meant to walk away from it now that we’re… what the hell ever we are now? Or am I expected to go back there and leave my wife with them? I can tell them right fucking now that that isn’t happening.
“I’m not running scared from them. I’m happy to take some time to heal, but that’s all they’re getting.”
“They can hide all they like, but we will find them, and we will take them down.”
“And what if they find us first?” I ask, voicing my biggest concern right now.
“Exactly why we need to get home as soon as possible.”
“You don’t trust this place?”
“I trust Aubrey. She wouldn’t knowingly put us in danger. But our lives are the epitome of danger.”
“Don’t we fucking know it,” I mutter.
“You hungry?”
“Do you do anything but cook?” I ask, raising a brow at how fast he can flip the switch between thinking about ending his father’s life and cooking lunch.
“Yeah. I torture and kill people, too.”
“Brilliant.”
“You want to go and see if the love birds have worked up an appetite? Or are the stairs too much for you to handle?” he taunts.
“I’ve got it. Thanks for your concern.”
His shoulders shake with laughter as he leaves the room, heading for what seems to be his favorite place in the house.
Shaking my head, I set about embarking on the mammoth climb that is the stairs and finding what will ultimately be my wife in bed with another man.
Why is it that thought gets me hotter than it should?
I spent years wanting to make her mine, and now… how I get her, I have to share her. And I’m not hating it.
Fucking mind-blowing.
I’m panting like I’ve run a marathon by the time I hit the top of the stairs.
But surprisingly, everything is quiet. There’s no moaning or screaming of JD’s name.
I hate to admit it, even if it is to myself, but a little disappointment drips through my veins.
Silently, I shuffle closer to the door to what I can only assume is the master bedroom that we’ve all been sleeping in.
As I get closer, voices finally hit my ears, but they’re not full of passion, just whispered words meant for just the two of them.
