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“Here—” he pointed to his head, “and here—” he pointed to his heart, “are going to have to be enough.”
Another piece of me broke at the desperation and resolve in his words. “No.” I wrapped my arms around his waist. “We get here too.”
He stiffened when I pressed my body against his. This was home. He knew it.
“I refuse for you to live that kind of life!” he roared. I drew back, though I fisted his shirt in the small of his back. I couldn’t let go. “What if I’m moved upstate? Or out of state? Do you think I’d make you stay with a man you’ll hardly get to see? I’m looking at a minimum of twenty years. You deserve better than that.”
I clutched the soft cotton of his dress shirt. “I’ll move closer. And as long as I get to see you, that’s all that counts.” He gently shoved at my shoulders in an attempt to distance himself. I held fast, though my voice rose. “And how do you know you’ll be in for at least twenty years? You haven’t even been arrested.”
He arched a brow as if to say,haven’t I?My stomach plummeted.
“Oh my God. When?” Panic pushed to the surface, overpowering everything else.
“Last night.” His indifference had me shaking him.
“Are you okay?” My eyes roved his face and every visible part of him I could see, searching for any sign he’d been hurt.
“I had my own cell. If that’s where I end up, it won’t be so bad.” He shrugged, and I pushed at his chest.
“This isn’t a joke. How could you be arrested, spend the night in jail, and I not know about it? How are you out now? When do you have to go back?”
“This is exactly why I let you go. I can’t stand to see you dragged into this mess. There’s nothing to be done, and it’s not worth your worry.” His hands went back into his pockets, but he held my gaze.
“Youare worth it!” I shouted, stabbing my index finger into his chest.
“No. I won’t have you coming to see me in a prison. That’s no place for you. And it’s not like you can just waltz in anytime you please. You’d spend more time traveling than we’d actually get to visit.” Excuses. All of them were pitiful excuses.
“So what? Do you think if we aren’t together that’s going to stop me from worrying, or missing you?” He offered me a bland look in response. “I’ll visit you any fucking way.”
“I’ll refuse to see you.” Steel was in his gaze.
“Try and keep me away,” I challenged, squaring my shoulders.
“Goddammit.” He pounded his fist low on the wall behind us. “Let me do right by you. Let me fucking protect you. Please.”
“Enough!” I screamed, even as the please permeated my frustration. Of course he’d use that weapon now. “No more excuses.”
“Reasons. They’re reasons, not excuses.”
“I don’t want to hear them.” I slid my hands to his face. “They don’t matter.” I softened my tone and pressed up on my toes. I brushed my lips against his. “Start from the beginning. Make me understand.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long breath. My mouth hovered near his. I needed him to make the next move. We were close. All he had to do was take us back. I didn’t care what he’d done—in the past or over the last few weeks. I’d forgiven him already.
“I know people who have been through this. I’ve seen what it does to a wife when a man goes to prison.”
“That’s them and this is us,” I said stubbornly. “I’m not saying it will be easy—”
“You have no idea what we’d be up against. Let’s forget about the fact that I could be transferred here, there, and everywhere. The second one of those fuckers says something inappropriate to you…I’ll be in for a legitimate murder.”
“Who the hell is going to say something to me?” I asked incredulously.
“Donato’s wife was felt up by a guard. And let’s not even get into the shit other inmates said to her, and to him about her.”
“Do you honestly think I’m afraid of what someone might say to me?” I threw both hands up. “I won’t like it, but—”
“What if it drives me to beat the everliving shit out of someone? Any chance for parole will fly out the window the second someone says a word to you,” he said through gritted teeth.
“If Donato handled it, you can.”
