Page 54

After lying to the helpful operator, I watched Donovan, again making sure there wasn’t anything he’d grabbed on the way back inside. The khakis he wore left little to the imagination, and the white button down wouldn’t hide anything.

Just then, a horrible memory rose. He used to dress like that for our dates. My stomach rolled, and my breakfast threatened to reappear.

With my focus back on the issue at hand, I reached for the loveseat, pulled it down, and pushed it in the corner. Before I reached for the filing cabinets, a heavy thud landed on the door, and I growled. Believing he was trying to rush me, I opened my mouth to bark back, when I happened a glance at the monitor.

Graham, who’d come up the stairs in silence, pinned Donovan to the ground.

Rushing forward, I pushed one filing cabinet out of the way and opened the door halfway. Graham, who sat on top of Donovan, knees pressed to his biceps, punched him in the face.

There was a pause, and then, “He doesn’t love you—”

Another punch straight to his mouth.

The sound elevated my pulse, but not in a bad way. It was time Donovan experienced the consequences of his actions.

When Donovan gritted his teeth and prepared himself to attack Graham, anger swelled inside me. I lunged and kicked out, landing a blow against his temple as he reared up. It wasn’t the exact spot I aimed for, but I blew out a breath, relieved I hadn’t hit Graham.

His body went lax; well, his body flopped back and his head smacked against the floor, which, I won’t lie, brought a smile to my face. It was then the cops swarmed through the house and up the stairs.

“Do either of you have any weapons?”

Graham didn’t move as he said, “No, officer.”

I said, “Yes, several. A letter opener, a hammer, an open metal stapler, and a pair of scissors all in my pocket, except for the hammer.”

A policewoman nodded at me and asked, “Please empty your weapons onto a clean surface before you move any obstacles from our path and open your door.”

I did as she asked, keeping every action in full view.

Donovan groaned and blinked open his eyes, albeit with a dazed look on his face. One cop tapped Graham’s shoulder, who stood with his arms raised, before he cuffed Donovan and lifted him to his feet.

“I—”

There wasn’t any chance I’d give him a way to weasel himself out of this one.

“Shut. Up! You stupid motherfucker, throwing a fucking chair through the fucking window. I recorded the entire thing. And like last time, the judge won’t believe you when you say I attacked you. Yes, I kicked you in your stupid fucking head because you were going to hurt Graham, but you fired a fucking gun in our house, you… grrrrr.”

Without thinking about it, I charged at him, but Graham stopped me by enclosing me in his arms at the same time the cop jerked the asshole toward the stairs and out of the house.

I gasped and turned around, my hands moving over his shoulders, his chest, his arms, checking for any blood or injuries.

“Are you okay?”

“Me! You stopped my heart when you started loading up on weapons.”

“So you decided sneaking up the stairs and tackling him was a good idea?” I screeched.

He cupped my face, his look fierce, and said, “I will do my best to protect you, even from yourself. I can’t lose you, sweetheart.”

And with those words, all the fight left me and I burst into tears as I clutched at him. We could’ve been standing there for hours or days, but constant chatter and the flow of people around our house reminded me we weren’t alone.

“The sooner we get the police what they need, they’ll leave us alone.”

Echo walked upstairs and rubbed my back until I glanced up, giving her a watery smile.

“I’ll get the recording for the police and tell chat you’re fine. Hensley went home with your mom and I’ll take the twins over and stay the night. Love you, Neko, and I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You too, E. I love you, too.”