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My gaze takes in the partially renovated house, with the living room that now opens up to the kitchen, the wooden floor, and the first coat of light-beige paint on the walls. Dammit. Her renovations were stalled because of our injuries, and now they’ll be stalled a little longer because of my shoulder. If I had controlled my temper with Wilson, she wouldn’t have to wait so long for her dream house to be completed.
She reactivates the alarm. “Are you going to tell me what possessed you to attack the chief of police?”
A short and derisive laugh escapes me. “I wouldn’t call shoving him an attack. Granted, I shouldn’t have done even that. But he pissed me off, and like an idiot, I reacted.”
And like the asshole he is, Wilson arrested me.
“The man’s dangerous.” Jess’s tone is heated, but there’s also a hollowness to it that I can’t figure out.
“He’s not dangerous. Not like the men I’ve dealt with in the past. He just likes to be in a position of power.”
“That’s the most dangerous kind of man. Promise me, Troy, you won’t do that again.” Her voice turns rough, poorly masking the frantic tone beneath the surface.
I cup her face, attempting to soothe her fear. “Hey, he’s not going to hurt me.”
“Right. You just felt like wearing a sling.”
I have no idea where Jess’s concern is coming from, so I shrug it off. I get that her abusive husband was a cop and Wilson is an asshole, but we’re not talking about the same man. Maybe if Wilson had military training, I’d be more concerned.
“Did you sleep?” I ask. The shadows under her eyes say she didn’t, but that’s nothing new with Jess. Her sessions with Robyn are helping, but it’s not enough. Jess might not experience nightmares every night like before, but she still gets them.
“Did you?” she asks, avoiding my question.
“Not really. How the hell did you even sleep in prison?”
“Who says I did? I spent most nights struggling with nightmares and fears of being killed in my sleep. I only fell asleep when my body was too exhausted to do anything else.”
“Shit. I can’t believe you spent five years living like that.” I can’t believe she didn’t come out even more broken.
She gives me a tired smile. “At least I don’t have to deal with that anymore.”
She should never have had to deal with it in the first place. That’s what pisses me off the most. All of that she wouldn’t have had to deal with if the cops had done their job and arrested the right person, instead of focusing all their energy on her.
“I’m so sorry about Saturday,” I tell her, my gut burning from guilt. “I know how much you wanted to see the fireworks.”
Garrett told me when he came to get me from the courthouse that Jess had opted out of watching them. She’d been looking forward to seeing the fireworks. I did that. I stole them from her.
“It’s okay. I couldn’t enjoy them knowing you were in jail.” The pain in her voice fists my heart hard.
I brush the side of her face with my thumb. “It wasn’t the same as what you had to survive.” Not even a fraction of the hell she’d endured. I can’t even begin to understand what she went through.
“I know, but that didn’t stop me from imagining the worst.”
“I’m sorry, Jess.” I’m sorry for all the pain I caused because I let Wilson get to me. “How about I take the dogs out to relieve themselves, and after that, you and I can have a nap?”
Then I can hold her the way I’ve missed doing for the past three days.
A warm body wiggles away from me on the bed. I slowly open my eyes. Jess’s bedroom is still light like it was when we lay down for a nap. “Where do you think you’re going?” I say, my voice drowsy.
If my arm wasn’t in a sling, I’d pull Jess to me. Fucking asshole. Wilson didn’t have to be so rough when he handcuffed me. It wasn’t as if I’d been resisting arrest, as Blake pointed out at the station. And as a video that surfaced on social media could attest.
“I figured since you were still asleep, I’d make dinner.”
“I can help. Assuming you still want me here after what happened Saturday.”
She smiles, the movement defying the downward tug on the corner of her mouth from the scar. “Of course I want you here. For dinner. Plus, there’s something I want to show you.” She climbs out of bed. “I did have a question about some of the photos I took at the festival on Saturday.”
“You’re looking for my brilliant expertise?” I know nothing about photography. I’m more of a point-and-shoot kind of guy.
