Sal quietly weeps into her husband’s chest, her hands clutching at his shoulders as if her life depends on it. She continues to shake her head, continues to sob at the one fact she knows to be true.
“He won’t let me go, Luke. He won’t.”
Luke glances up as Seth’s frame darkens the living room. He’s on the couch, Sal asleep on top of him. Seeing them curled up together, Seth says nothing, only raises his eyebrows to signal he wants to speak to his brother.
Grudgingly, Luke untangles himself from Sal. Careful not to wake her, he covers her with a blanket. Before he goes to his brother, he studies his wife’s face. She’s finally settled down after the visit from the cops. Now, she sleeps, although not easy. Her brow’s pulled into a small furrow. Her fragile face graced by shadows.
She’s worried.
Hell, they’re all worried.
Luke follows Seth into the brightly lit foyer. His brother keeps his voice low. “She okay?”
After Sal fell apart in the bathroom, it took both Luke and Lacey to coax her into getting some rest.
“No, she ain’t okay,” Luke says flatly. He slicks a hand through his hair and decides to be honest with Seth. “Sal was finally feelin’ alright and now this.”
Slowly, surely, she was coming back to herself. Eating again, putting on weight, remembering small things, growing closer to Luke, to her family.
What this could do ... it could break her. And it most definitely put the brakes on Luke telling her anything about the past, about the baby they lost.
Seth glances out the window where, across the street, two cops are stationed. Luke doesn’t like it any more than Sal does. Their family being watched, under surveillance.
The police searched the woods but came up empty-handed. The knowledge that someone is after Sal, watching her, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, fills Luke with blind fury.
“What do we do, Luke?” Seth asks.
Luke wants to hug the hell out of his brother. The way he includes himself in their problems means the world to him.
“We keep things normal,” Luke finally tells him. “We have to or it’ll be too much for her.”
Luke glances over his shoulder. As he stares at Sal, he’s reminded of the promise he made. To not let anything happen to her. To protect her. And he’ll damn well do just that.
He looks at his brother. “I’ll tell you one thing, though—I’ll put that son of a bitch in the fucking grave if he comes after her.”
Seth’s face is as cold as his. “You’re goddamn right.”
“Seth?”
A quiet voice has them turning their heads. Lacey, her purse in her hands, hangs back in the hallway anxiously, abnormally subdued. She’s shook up by this afternoon’s events.
Seth slides his hand over Luke’s shoulder, squeezes. “I’m gonna make sure Lacey gets back to her place okay.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
Luke follows them out onto the porch, watching, waiting until they make it safely out of the drive.
Letting out a breath, Luke braces his arms on the railing.
The evening air is warm, the last day of June. The sun dances, descending into flares of light purple, orange, pink.
Luke bristles at a noise behind him. He’s turning, his fists reflexively clenching, when he feels Sal’s hands, as small and light as sparrows, land on his shoulders. He relaxes at her touch.
“Sal,” he murmurs, twisting slightly to take her in his arms. She lets out a sleepy little sigh and curls against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her dark head.
For a long quiet minute, they stand there, entwined.
Then Luke tightens his embrace. Sal’s trembling in his arms. “You cold, darlin’?”