Page 61 of No Knight (My Kind of Hero #3)

Matt

Ryan cries herself to sleep in my arms, tears she must’ve kept inside for years.

And my heart aches for her and longs for her. Fuck her admission, because nothing will change the way I feel.

She’s not a killer. She’s just a human put in a shitty situation. A child traumatized. An adult scarred. Mothering is meant to protect you from harm. But in her life, it was the cause.

I love her, but she says she’s still leaving.

I love her even when she promises to hand over our child.

She says my love will be enough. That she can’t trust herself, that I should feel the same.

She says she’s a monster, but in the grand scheme of the evils in this world, she’s no murderer.

She’s also beyond listening, though what am I supposed to do, to say?

I’m not sure it’ll help, admitting that I don’t see her actions quite the same way.

Or that I don’t give a fuck what she’s done.

If she’s a monster, then she’s my monster.

“Because you are mine,” I whisper, curling her hair around her tiny shell-like ear. “You’re mine and I’m yours, and you’d better get used to it, for better or worse. And yes, I said what I said, teacup.”

I’m pressing a kiss to her head when she almost breaks my nose with her head as she comes awake with a surge, her hands clutching her belly and her face a rictus of pain.

“Oh. The baby—I think she’s coming.”

And I think she might be right, according to the damp warmth spreading across my lap.