Page 106 of Dirty Game

She sets the toy in my lap. It’s a little plush dog, one ear missing, stuffing leaking from the side.

“Why did you keep it all?” she asks.

“Needed to be ready,” I manage. “In case he ever came home.”

She wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me into her. It’s not pity, not forgiveness. It’s just human contact, something to remind me I’m still alive.

She starts to gather the broken pieces, stacking them in a neat pile.

She wipes the blood off my hands with the sleeve of her shirt.

She doesn’t flinch when it stains her.

“We’ll get him back,” she says. Not a question, not a wish—just the simple fact of it.

I want to believe her.

I want to reach inside my chest and rip out whatever’s left of my heart and hand it over.

Instead, I sit there, useless, while she cleans up my mess.

“How do you know?” I whisper.

She looks at me, eyes sharp and unwavering. “Because I’ve seen you destroy,” she says. “Now I want to see you build.”

For the first time in my life, I don’t have an answer.

The broken dog is still in my lap.

Rosalynn wipes the blood from my hands, gentle like I’ve never known.

I could live in this moment if the world would let me.

But that’s never how it works.

I grab her by the wrist, hard enough to leave bruises, and pull her onto me.

She straddles my lap, knees digging into the mess of plastic and stuffing.

I taste salt on her cheek, but I can’t tell if it’s hers or mine.

We kiss like we’re starving, and it’s like we’re the last two people left after the bomb drops.

But, she’s right.

I will get my son back, because I’ll burn down the entire fucking world for him.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Rosalynn

The penthouse is too quiet without him.

Varrick left at dawn for the port operation, taking Korrin, Cyrus, and half his men with him.

The morning was still dark when he kissed me goodbye, his mouth lingering on mine like he was trying to memorize the taste.

"Stay inside," he'd ordered, thumb brushing my throat. "Jensen has eyes on every entrance. You're safe here."