Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Duke steps close to me and reaches out. There’s a moment of hesitation where I think he’ll move away again. Then he takes my hand, leans down, and kisses me gently on the cheek. His urgency is gone, or perhaps he’s holding it back. He must be feeling so guilty right now.
“I mean it,” he goes on. “I’m never letting anybody hurt you. Never.”
He leads me toward the stairs. I wrap my hands around his arm, holding tightly, hoping he can feel my support.
I sit on the armchair, freshly showered, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Duke quickly swung by the dorm before coming here. Now, we’re waiting for his cop buddy to arrive. Duke went crazy at the security team on the phone, ranting at them until his neck turned red. When he ended the call, he looked ready to kill somebody.
He paces up and down now, rolling his shoulders and moving his neck from side to side. I wish there were something I could say, some way I could untangle all this craziness. When his cell phone rings, he checks it, his expression darkening. “It’s Susan. Ryan’s mom.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell him, feeling like a stuck and pretty useless record. “I promise.”
He smiles shortly, nodding. When I stand, he says, “It’s fine, Molly. You can stay here. I’ve got nothing to hide from you.”
Despite the circumstances, his words cause me a slight flare of relief. Duke sits on the couch, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Yeah, it’s true,” he says. “I know. Susan, I know.” He grits his teeth, looking at me. I offer what I hope is an expression of support. “I’m working on it now. They’ll find out. No, listen. They’ll find out if I call the cops. They might hurt him. They might…” He shakes his head, moving the phone from his ear. I can hear her yelling. I want to snatch the phone and shout at her for yelling at him, but it’s not my place.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”
He hangs up, putting the phone down.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “Or is that a stupid question?”
“It’s just Susan being Susan,” he says. “This is all my fault. I’m a terrible father. Maybe she’s right.”
“No,” I snap. “She’s not. She’s wrong. You’re a good dad. You’re doing your best. You wanted to be in your son’s life. That’s more than some fathers. My dad was closer to the fucking bottle than he was with me. You’re a good dad and a good person. Okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, clearly not believing it.
I join him on the couch, ignoring the voice of doubt that tells me I’m part of the problem. He’s reminded of another fatherly failure whenever he looks at me, but he needs support right now. He needs his woman. I take one of his hands in both of mine and look into his eyes.
“You are,” I say. “It’s not like you wanted this to happen. Ryan went to that bar. You walked in and saved his and my life without even thinking about it. You hired security. You did your best.”
“It’s just like fighting, Molly. Sometimes, your best isn’t good enough.”
“Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together,” I say, wondering if I’ve gone too far.
Then he nods thoughtfully, puts his arm around me, and hugs me. When he kisses the top of my head, it feels so couple-like. I realize it’s the first time in my life I’ve experienced that. There were moments with Ryan that, from the outside, people would see us as a couple, but I never felt it.
“I can feel you smiling,” he says.
I laugh, then quickly stop myself. Now isn’t the time for laughing. “Can you? I didn’t know people could feel smiles.”
“Must be a magic power. Am I right?”
“Maybe.”
“It’s not a bad thing. When Ethan gets here, life’s going to get pretty damn grim. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but it’s not going to be good. If you’re smiling, I’d like to know the reason.”
“A bit of light before the darkness? That kind of deal?”
“Exactly,” he says.
I swallow, then tell him. “I’ve never felt like part of a couple before, but just now, that’s what it was like when you kissed me on the head. I know it’s silly.”
“It’s not,” he growls. “Not even a little bit. It’s the truth. We are a couple. You’re mine.”
I swallow. “I’m yours? Like… your girlfriend?”
I probably sound so immature to him. This is the worst time for us to have a conversation like this, when his son’s, my ex’s, life is on the line. Maybe something about this room makes us forget what we’re supposed to focus on. This is where we first got steamy, after all.
“You’re mine,” he says firmly. “Never forget that.”
I get the sense he doesn’t want to speak anymore. It’s the way he rests his cheek against the top of my head. I want to ask him exactly what he means by his, but it’s enough to sit here with him in the calm before the storm.