I thought I’d lost you.
I burrowed closer to him, seeking confirmation that this wasn’t a dream—that he was real and safe and here. “I knew you would. I never doubted.”
His muscles bunched. “Knew I would what?” Fear burned in his eyes. Panic made him shake.
I frowned. What could he be so afraid of?
My stomach clenched with the need to absolve him, to assure both of us that we were all right. “That you’d come. I never stopped believing.”
Never stopped hoping you were alive.
“The only way you wouldn’t have come for me is …” I trailed off.
Arthur cleared his throat. “Is if I’d died.” His exhale layered with grief and torment. His lips kissed my forehead. “Of course I came. How could I not? Even if I was dead, I would’ve found a way.” He closed his eyes, cutting me off from his persecution. “I’m just so fucking sorry it took so long.”
I moaned again as he tucked me protectively close. Nuzzling into his warmth, I did my best to eradicate the ice still living in my blood. “How long?”
Arthur shook his head, the tips of his hair tickling my forehead. “We’ll talk about it when you’re better and we’re home.”
Home.
I liked the sound of that.
“Can we do that, Buttercup? Can you forgive me for everything and stay with me? Can you give me the chance to explain when we’ve dealt with this mess and we’re alone?”
You don’t need to be afraid of me.
My heart perished. “Arthur, I need to tell you something.”
“Don’t,” he growled. His eyes turned glassy. “Don’t. Please. I can’t do this here.”
I hated to see him in pain—especially when I could grant him relief—but I nodded and respected his request. “Okay.”
Arthur kissed my cheekbone, his muscles twitching to lift me higher. “I was so afraid. When you wouldn’t open your eyes … fuck, it killed me.”
I stroked his rough cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He pursed his lips, anger mixing violently with heartbreak. “Don’t you dare apologize. This was all my fault. I’m the one who should beg for forgiveness.” His face shadowed, filling with thoughts I couldn’t chase. “Just … I hope you can forgive me—for so many things.”
Once again the underlying message played on my soul-strings. I ran my thumb over his dry lips. “You’re already forgiven.” Narrowing my eyes, hoping he would understand, I added, “For everything.”
He sighed, but his suffering didn’t ease. Looking away from me, his body stiffened with duty. “I need to get you away from here.”
“As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.” I curled tighter in his arms, giving in to a bone-wracking shiver.
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew,” he barely whispered.
“You’re wrong.” I shook my head. “There’s nothing you could do to make me stop loving you.”
He flinched. The moonlight cast a silver glow on the side of his head where a small patch of hair had been shorn. What—
Reaching for it, I found a large bump—similar to the one gracing my own skull. Any remaining fogginess disappeared as nervousness slammed into me. “Are you okay?”
His brow fell as he snorted. “Forget me. What about you?”
Not letting him change the subject, I tried again. “When they took me … when you were left lying there, bleeding …” My blood flowed faster. “How badly did they—”
“They should never have been able to get inside and take you.” His face twisted. “I swear on my life, I’ll make it right.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. I need to know if you’re okay.”
Tell me!
My heart picked up its pace with a worried staccato.
Something happened. Something he’s not telling me.
“Arthur, if you’re not well, we need to—”
A hand landed on my head gently, breaking the moment and tearing me away from the lies Arthur was about to sprout.
Grasshopper came into focus, a soft smile on his lips. “Glad to see you’re awake. You don’t want to miss the best part.” He glanced at Arthur. “By the way, got the car. It’s ready to go.”
Arthur grunted; the sound threaded from his chest to mine. “Good.” He turned and Dagger Rose sprawled before me. The houses, the Clubhouse, the scuffed and blackened circle with a singed mattress and dirt.
What on earth happened here?
I tried to remember, but this time I had no memories being blocked by a stubborn wall. I’d been out cold and never witnessed a thing.
Arthur said, “We’ll wait to see the first spark, then we’ll go.”
I didn’t know if he was talking to me or Grasshopper.
Gingerly, I inspected the bruise on the side of my temple. It was more like an egg-shaped bump than a bruise. And it hurt—a lot. I flinched, sucking air between my teeth as I prodded it. “What exactly are we waiting for?”
As much as I appreciated Arthur holding me, I wanted to get down—to test my legs and hurry along my recovery.
“You’ll see.” Arthur cocked his chin at Dagger Rose. A few lights had been turned on in houses with broken doors and smashed windows, but that was the only illumination in the dark. Pure Corruption members dashed around, pouring rivers of gasoline from one house to another.