“I’m glad you guys had each other.”
“Me, too. And the second year, we got Lor.”
Shiloh pushed up higher on the pillows. “You met Lor in prison?”
“She ran a program where we trained wild horses.”
That soft expression returned to Shiloh’s face. “She helped you find your gift.”
“She did.” Those hours with Lor and the horses were my only true refuge during my time in prison. The only time I could let my guard down for a moment. Because with the horses, you had to. They could sense when you had your walls up. You had to let them see everything to gain their trust.
I shifted closer to Shiloh. “I won’t lie. It was hell.” I felt the crack of my ribs as a guy on our block slammed his foot into my gut. The slice of the shiv on my first day. The swelling of my face from another beating.
Shiloh’s grip on my hand tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.”
Her eyes flared. “Why?”
“Because it led me here. It gave me the horses. Made me see the truth about life. When you see the darkness, it makes you appreciate the light.”
Shiloh stilled. “That’s how I feel about the sky.”
“The sky?”
She nodded, lifting her gaze to the window. “It always reminds me that there’s hope. Those pinpricks of glittering light in a sea of inky black.”
I didn’t need to turn to follow Shiloh’s line of sight. I could see everything reflected in those pale blue eyes. And in the moment, I was no longer alone.
33
SHILOH
I dreamtthat I was swimming in sunlight, free and weightless and blissfully warm. I couldn’t help the moan that slipped from my throat.
Soft lips surrounded by stubble pressed against my neck. “Sounds like that are sweet torture.”
My eyes flew open. Not my bedroom. Not alone.
Strong arms tugged me gently against a rock-hard chest. Ramsey. I was drowning in him. His scent. His feel. His very being.
“I was dreaming,” I said by way of explanation.
He grinned against my neck. “And what were you dreaming about?”
“I was swimming in the sun.”
“Sounds like a good dream to me.”
“The best.”
Ramsey turned me so I faced him. “How’d you sleep?”
I ran through a mental inventory. “The best I have in years.”
His smile widened. “Me, too. No nightmares.”
My mouth pulled down in a frown. “Do you usually have them?”