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The officer and guards began to haul us toward the entrance doors.

Anger ripped from Dane’s chest, and his head jerked back as they dragged him away. “You will pay for this, Harley. You fucked over the wrong person. You won’t forget who I am.”

Just before they pulled me through the double doors, I twisted to look at Hope.

Those eyes met mine.

A mossy, earthy plane. Real and good and genuine.

The best thing I’d ever seen.

In that second, I wanted to promise her a million things.

That Evan would be fine.

That I would protect her.

That she would never hurt again.

Tell her I was so goddamned sorry. That I didn’t know. That I would have stopped it if I could have.

That I’d be her hero.

But that just wasn’t possible.

Not when I’d already destroyed everything.

31

Kale

I found her in the deserted chapel. Cast in shadows, the quiet space was illuminated only by the candles that had been lit and remained flickering through the deepest hours of the darkest night.

She was in the very front. On her knees. Red hair all around her where she had her head bowed forward.

That sweet body was shuddering and heaving with silent, wracking sobs.

I wondered if any distance could come between us when I might not be able to hear it.

Because I’d heard her through those six excruciating hours it’d taken to be released from the small city jail. My charges dropped, my assault labeled defense of a patient.

The whole time I’d felt like I was losing my mind because I’d heard it in my ear. Heard it in my heart.

I’d heard it through time and space and miles.

Her grief thick and profound.

Ingrained in me.

Marked in me.

I took another step forward.

Energy raced across the floor.

Saw it the second it slammed into her from behind. The way her spine jerked in awareness and that feeling rushed out in front of me.

Thick and heavy.

I took another tentative step forward. I might as well have been wading through quicksand, my steps laboring and heavy and slowed.

Going nowhere.

Or maybe I was just wading through honey.

Sweet, sweet heat.

I took another step down the middle aisle, and she jarred forward, bracing her hand on the floor in front of her as she gasped for a breath.

Swore, the flames on the candles shivered where they licked.

Two feet behind her, I came to a stop.

“Hope.” Her name was a tortured murmur.

She choked, and all I wanted was to wrap her up. Hold her and make her all the promises I’d wanted to make all along. Knowing if it did, they would only be lies.

She rose on her knees, her hands flattened to her chest like that action was the only thing keeping her from completely falling apart. “It hurts so bad, Kale. So bad.”

My throat was clogged, so goddamned tight and thick I could barely speak. “I should have recognized it. Seen it all along. It’s my fault.”

“No.” It left her on a harrowed breath.

“Yes. I should have seen it. Just like I should have seen it in Melody. But I was too caught up, Hope, too caught up in what I felt for you.”

Because of it, I’d done exactly what I’d promised myself I’d never do again.

I’d failed.

Old grief slammed me so hard that I rocked forward. Unable to stand beneath it, I sank down onto the front pew off to the side of her, elbows on my knees as I leaned forward, my face in my hands.

I could feel her peering over at me. Could feel the weight of her unwavering gaze. “You were there when we needed you most. You came back. Right when we needed you.”

Bile swam. “It never should have come to that. I should have caught it the first time he came into my office. Instead, I spent the whole time thinking of touching you.”

Wanting her.

Wishing for things I couldn’t have.

I could sense her shifting on her knees, turning to face my direction. Disbelief oozed out on her words. “You’re really gonna sit there and make that claim? After everything we shared? After the way you treated him? Like he was somethin’ rather than nothin’? Like he might be your world the way you became ours?”

Grief stalked my throat, burning and choking. “I wanted to save him, Hope. I would have given anything. And now he’s—”

Barely clinging to life.

I bit down on the words. Unable to even say them even though we both knew exactly what I’d meant.

He was barely clinging to life.

I’d gone straight to the ICU when I’d been released. Dr. Krane had just been leaving when I’d walked in. His expression had been . . . grim.

Worse than grim.

He’d touched my arm and promised me he’d done everything he possibly could. He hadn’t filled me in like Evan was just another of my patients. His tone had been cautious, filled with sympathy I actually knew the guy truly felt, the jargon slim.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance