Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“If I wasn’t here, this wouldn’t be happening,” I argued, knowing I was right. Whether it was my fault was a different argument. I was sure Paige would take the other side. But I knew. I’d made choices. Those choices had hurt people. One of those hurt people wanted me to pay for it. I didn’t think the punishment fit the crime, but I wasn’t exactly in a position to parse guilt and innocence. Paige didn’t deserve to pay for my crimes. “I can’t stand the idea of anything happening to you.” I felt her soften.
“I can’t stand the idea of anything happening to you either,” she said. “But I’m not going to leave you. I’m not a quitter.”
Why wasn’t she getting it? She was making this harder by dragging it out.
“Well, maybe I am,” I said. “Maybe this is too much. Maybe you don’t know what’s best for you.”
“I’m not a child,” she snapped. “I’m an adult and I can make my own choices.”
“But you don’t get to make them for me,” I said, keeping my tone reasonable. I had to get her to understand.
Paige lapsed into an irritated silence. I was being an ass—I knew it—but I couldn’t back down. Her life was at stake.
That was all I could think of. Her life.
This wasn’t about her being mad or thinking I was a jerk. This was about her heart continuing to beat, her lungs drawing breath, because some assassin’s bullet hadn’t taken her life. I’d been selfish this whole time. I understood that now. Crystal clear. I saw her and I’d wanted her. God, I wanted her so badly. The light that glowed inside her, the way she laughed, how good she was with people, with the kids, my family, me. And it’d only gotten worse when I actually spent time with her and discovered we could talk all night and never run out of things to say.
I had to make her understand.
“Paige,” I said, not knowing how to explain. “I spent my entire life surrounded by selfish people, and I’ve been selfish too often. I love you.” I hadn’t thought to say the words, but when they came out, I knew they were true. “I’ve never been in love before,” I added.
She stayed silent for one breath. Two. I found I wasn’t scared of her not loving me back, of her not saying the words. I just needed her to know what was in my heart.
“How do you know you are now?” she asked, her voice quiet.
I didn’t need to think. I just said what was real. What I knew.
“Because for the first time, I’m not the most important person in my world. I can’t stand the idea of anything—or anyone—hurting you. And being near me is getting you hurt. I love you too much to let myself be selfish with you.”
“And I don’t get a say in any of this?” Her breath hitched. She forced out the words, “I don’t think you can love me, because if you did, you’d listen to what I want instead of telling me how it’s going to be. You’re telling me what you can live with, but I can’t live with walking away from you. I’m not going to abandon you just because things are hard. That’s not who I am, and it’s not fair for you to ask me to walk away. If you don’t want to be with me, if this has run its course, then—” The words caught in her throat.
“Paige,” I said, hating the pain in her voice. I reached to touch her face, but she batted my hand away, slamming her arm into the underside of the bed. Her gasp of pain sliced through me. “Be careful—”
The door to the room opened, and the light flicked off.
“It’s me,” Hawk said. “Ryder and Wren are out pinning down the sniper. I’m turning the lights out in here to cut the view. I’m going to cover this window. You two okay under there?”
“Paige is bleeding,” I said.
“How badly? Stitches?” he asked, moving across the room.
“No,” Paige answered before I could. “It’s mostly stopped, I think. I’m pretty sure I don’t need any stitches.”
“I’m not surprised,” Hawk said. “There’s glass everywhere.”
We fell silent, the only sounds in the room the rustling of Hawk hammering something to block the window. It felt like an eternity before he said, “Done. Give me one second to get this glass out of the way, and then you can slide out from under there. We’ll go downstairs for a debrief.”
Feet thumped across the floor and out into the hall. I heard the door of the utility closet open and shut, and then Hawk was back. A crystalline rattle of glass shards, the whoosh of the broom on the floor, and finally, he said, “All right, you’re clear.”