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“You don’t know? How the fuck don’t you know?”

“I was driving and shooting the fucking gun. I let off a whole clip on the place. It had to hit her.”

I wipe the sweat from my brow. “If he finds out who we are before I’m able to get him, then we’re dead, you know that, right? We’re fucking dead!” I hit the cabinet, punching a hole through the thing.

I’ve got to hurry. “You’re going to help me get him.”

“No, the hell I’m not. I did my part. I took care of the girl and I tossed the bottle inside.”

“Well, you don’t know if she’s dead. And the note is only going to fuel him. So, we’ve got to be quick with this. He’ll be on a killing spree when he finds out she’s dead. If she’s dead. So I need your help in capturing him.”

“Where the hell are you going to keep him? Here?”

“No, I’ve got a place. I just need you to help me get him there, and then you don’t have to worry about anything else.”

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll help you.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Bexley

One month three days missing

I stare at Danny as he stands across the room.

“Did you hear me?” he says.

“I hear you,” I reply. I turn away because I just can’t look at him. Doesn’t he realize what he’s asking of me? I’m a married––– am I married? My husband is gone. How does that work? I feel my ring on my finger and then I feel him. Standing behind me. When did he get so close? I start to shake. I start to think about everything at once and then his hand touches my neck. His words flow through my mind.

“I want to kiss you. I want to feel you. I can’t fucking stand being alone with you and not touching you.”

Goosebumps form on my arms and down my back as he moves hair away from my neck. His breath slides over my skin, like fog rolling over a grassy hill, and I hear him inhale. Want is powerful. Lust makes things blurry. Love is messy. His lips touch my neck and my eyes close. My breathing accelerates. My heart pounds like a drum. “After all this time, you still smell the same,” he says. His voice, raspy, deep, sad. Like he’s missed out on something. It sends a chill down my spine, awakening nerve endings that only he can. God, I’ve missed him so much. I can’t possibly smell great right now, but I’m not going to argue about it. I feel his hand on my hip.

When you’re accustomed to someone you love touching you, you don’t really think about it. It’s natural, like scratching an itch. But Danny has not touched me in so long. I have not felt this love in what feels like a lifetime. That simple feel of his hand on my hip is so noticed. My senses are hyperaware.

We’re in a temporary madness. One that we both feel. One that we have felt before. We’re like a volcano; we erupt and then subside. We have roots planted so deep that the strongest wind couldn’t lift what we share. Our love is redamancy. We both love one another just as much as the other. It’s returned in full. I can feel it pouring off of him.

He kisses along the back of my nape, lightly as if I’m cracked glass that could shatter and cut him at any moment.

And then I make a mistake.

I close my eyes.

And I see Samuel. I step away from Danny.

It hurts. I’m still raw.

What am I doing?

Have I lost my goddamn mind?

I’ll never see him again, he’ll never hold my hand, and I’ll never feel the rough calluses on his palm or hear his keys drop on the counter before the thump of his boots hit the floor. He’ll never come up behind me while I’m washing dishes. I’ll never smell his scent––outdoors and a mixture of sweat.

He’d smell like fresh cut lumber sometimes. I loved that. He knew I loved a bowl of cereal just before bed. He knew my favorite candle scent and how I hated dirt on the bottom of my feet. He bought me bedroom shoes all the time. Fuzzy ones, ones that were like flip-flops. Ones that covered my whole feet up past my ankle. I have so many. I’ll have to buy my own now.

The thought bothers me. It’s stupid. I can buy my own bedroom shoes. I have before, but the ones he bought were… They meant more.

I can’t disrespect him by giving in to my want for Danny. I can’t do that.