Lost him before she’d even had him. Except as a play toy.
He nodded. “I know.”
“How could you know? You weren’t there. You didn’t even know me then.”
“But I know you now.”
He wasn’t touching her. The bed practically separated them, with her at the side and him at the end. And yet...she’d never felt so intimately connected to him.
“I know you now, too.” Her throat started to dry up.
Jutting his chin, he nodded again then said, “You looked like you wanted to let Suzie go tonight.”
“She made mistakes. Maybe some big ones. But she was the victim. Not the criminal. She didn’t tell me that he was the one hitting her when I spoke to her Monday night, but she could have argued that she wasn’t under obligation to testify against her spouse.”
“She’s not his spouse.”
“I think she is,” Emma told him. “I noticed that she had a wedding ring on a chain around her neck. I think we’re going to find out that they were married.”
Sometimes life was hard. Too hard. Like when you got on a motorcycle to please the man you thought you loved and your baby died. Or you tried to give a guy the life he thought he wanted and he died instead.
And sometimes life blessed you, too. Didn’t it?
“I found out something tonight,” she said, thinking about courage. About reasons to live. To get up every day. To fight for justice.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t want to know what my life would be like without you in it.”
Yep, she got another nod. She could almost have predicted that one.
“You going to take your shower?” she asked.
He didn’t nod. At least he did her that favor, saved her from one more of those infuriating nods. Stripping off his shorts, and then his briefs, he strode naked to her shower, turned on the water, and stepped inside.
Good thing, too.
He didn’t see the tears, or hear the sobs, that burst from her as she undressed, turned out the bedroom light and crawled into bed.
* * *
Jayden took a long shower. He washed away the blood of the man who’d been shot that night. And maybe a bit of the blood that he’d had on his conscience for more than a decade. He’d done Emory Smith a huge disservice.
And maybe he’d given the boy his greatest desire in life, too.
Who knew why some died young and others lived past the times their minds even knew who they were?
Jayden sure as hell didn’t.
He’d been wrong about Bill Heber—the man really had killed his own child in his wife’s body. And he’d been right, too—Bill had honored his second chance.
And loved his wife—albeit in a sick way that was unacceptable.
Jayden stayed under the spray after all but the bathroom light went out. Until the water ran cold. And then, reaching for one of the two towels he’d seen on a rack, he dried himself off. Top to bottom. Feet last.
A guy needed some things he could rely on. Some things that didn’t change.
But if he was going to be true to himself, to keep his word and honor life—both that had been and that which was left—he had to know when change was necessary and when it wasn’t. He had to have the courage to face that change. Or to turn away from it.