“In this case, itisa good thing,” Hayes said. “When Al heard that Kenny attacked you, he decided to come forward with some additional information.”
“What kind of information?” Ramsey pressed.
A squeak sounded over the line, and I knew Hayes was leaning back in his desk chair. “The night Shiloh was attacked in town, Kenny and Al were at the Bar & Grill.”
“I didn’t see him there.”
“Probably because they were on the bar side. But Kenny got a good look at you and started spouting off about you and Ramsey ruining everything for him. Went on a real tear, I guess. Al bought him a beer and got him calmed down, but Kenny left right after you did, said he needed to get home to take care of some things.”
Ramsey’s knuckles bleached white as his hand clenched around the couch cushion. “He’s the one who jumped Shiloh.”
“I’d say it’s a pretty good guess. He’s not talking, so we don’t know for sure.” Hayes’ chair squeaked again as he moved. “I don’t think he’s responsible for the letters, though. My guess is it’s Ian trying to mess with you.”
“You’re probably right.” And as much as the letters had scared me, I felt a sense of relief for the first time in weeks at knowing that the person who had tried to hurt me was behind bars.
Ramsey stared down at the phone. “Do you think Kenny’s lawyer will let him talk?”
“There’s not a lot in it for them. We aren’t going to offer a deal for information—not unless he wants to plead guilty to attempted murder.”
Ramsey’s knuckles turned white again.
“Thanks, Hayes,” I hurried to say. “I really appreciate you calling.” But Ramsey didn’t need us rehashing everything that had happened. Not tonight.
“No problem. I’ll call you tomorrow morning with an update. Get some sleep.”
“Goodnight.” I hit end on the call and set the phone back on the coffee table. I leaned forward and placed my hands on Ramsey’s face. “Talk to me.”
His eyes burned with a mixture of so many things I didn’t know where to start in identifying them.
“I could’ve lost you.”
The words came out in a low rasp, a guttural admission that cost way too much to speak out loud.
I moved in even closer, resting my forehead against his. “I’m right here.”
“You almost weren’t.”
Each syllable was tortured, and I felt powerless to stop Ramsey’s pain. I didn’t have the first idea what words to give him. Instead, I gave myself—my presence, my touch.
My mouth met his, tentative at first and then seeking more. My tongue parted his lips, searching, giving, trying to assure him that I was here and not going anywhere.
“Shiloh.” Ramsey rasped my name, the syllables vibrating against my lips. He pulled back, searching for something. “I love you. That word isn’t enough, not for what I feel for you, but it’s a start.”
My lungs burned with the kind of pain you got when you took your first breath after diving too deep in a lake. It was bliss and agony all at the same time. Joy and terror.
“I love you, too.”
He was right. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was everything I had to give him.
My palm pressed against Ramsey’s chest. I felt his heart beat in a rapid rhythm against it, and I looked into those fathomless, onyx eyes. “I want everything with you.”
“Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
The words came so easily for Ramsey, and without a moment’s hesitation.
My fingers moved to the hem of his t-shirt. I tugged it up and over his head, then sent it sailing to the floor.
“Shiloh…”