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Motherfucker!
My nostrils flared as I swallowed a moan and locked my raging libido down like a supermax prison. Holy fuck, she could rile me up like nothing on this earth. I pulled back and brushed her hairback over her shoulder. I squeezed her to me gently, pressing my lips to her forehead.
Closing my eyes, I sighed. My lips brushed her skin as I whispered, “You ready to discuss what’s in front of us?”
She nodded, then shook her head no twice before sighing deeply. I gave her a few more minutes, but before I could prompt her again, she groaned, “There’s never going to be a time when I’m ready, but we gotta face reality.”
“That we do.”
“Every nitty gritty detail of our private lives is going to be broadcast for every person on this planet to pick apart. Are you ready for that? Are you ready for them to know what happened to us?” She pelted me with questions.
I threaded my fingers through her hair and gazed over her head at the wall. “Neither of us is ever going to be ready, sugar. Hell, just telling the detectives what happened tore me up. Every time someone asks one of us a question about it, I want to rip their tongue out. Whenever someone looks at you, I want to use a rusty spoon to pop their eyeballs out of their heads. And if I ever get my hands on one of them, they won’t live to see another day.”
“You make me feel safe. Do you know that?” she asked as she stared at me.
I scoffed. “I don’t know how the fuck that’s possible, but I’m glad you feel that way.”
“Do you not believe me?”
“I don’t know, darlin’. I failed you. I didn’t protect you,” I explained.
“I didn’t protect you, either, Jackson. And before you say something stupid like it’s the man’s job to protect his woman, it’s both people’s responsibility to take care of each other, so if you failed, I did too.”
“You’re too good for me, sugar. Way too damn good for me.”
She smiled, pressing a kiss against my lips. “Impossible. You were made for me.”
The door opened immediately after someone knocked. Katie’s eyes flew wide, startled as my dad walked in, followed by Liam. My dad carried a couple of duffle bags, which he placed on the empty bed I was supposed to be lying on.
Liam said, “Sorry to barge in, but you two have been discharged, and the team says you’re heading home to Seattle for a few weeks?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know for how long. At least until Katie can walk around without assistance.”
My dad exhaled. “I’m glad. I know your Mama will be too.”
Katie was still trembling a bit, and every quiver infuriated me. Choking back the pissed-off asshole that showed up every time someone startled or scared Katie, I said, “I’ll be glad to be home for a bit.”
“Good, I’m glad.”
My dad, the badass Marine Raider, smiled happily. His face stretched into a grin at what I could only assume was the idea I would be happy to be home. He turned and sat on the empty bed next to the luggage he dropped there. “So, Liam’s got everything arranged for you to leave. Your grandfather has flights arranged,and your mama and Marcie got you and Katie some clothing gathered up…”
Liam picked up where Dad trailed off. “Since both of you gave Holt the ability to make medical decisions when they came on board, Foster signed your discharge papers so we can help protect your identities. At least on paper.”
Katie pulled out of my arms as she sat up. “So, what’s left before we can get out of here?”
“You guys getting dressed.”
Ten
Katie
The first night back in Seattle, I awakened from a night terror. It was like being locked inside my head, watching myself lose it but being unable to do anything to stop it. After what felt like ages, Jackson was able to calm me. His only comment when I came back to myself was, “Better?”
I just shook my head. Tears coursed down my face like they were competing in one of Jackson’s races. Sobs shook my body. I was petrified to close my eyes again. I hadn’t had a single nightmare until we left the hospital.
Over the next week, we continued to heal, physically anyway. Emotionally and mentally, we were still avoiding, ignoring, and alternately blocking the days that we spent in hell. Jackson was so damn good at diverting my attention to something else when I would get too mired down or lost in my thoughts and what-ifs.
Our days were spent either curled up on the patio sectional in the backyard at Jackson’s parents’ house listening to the forestaround us, or, if the weather was terrible, we spent it in the window seat in his bedroom staring out into the trees.
