Page 3 of Oathbreaker

My lungs freeze.

Then my temper snaps.

I step forward and slap him across the cheek, the crack sounding loudly through the air.

“How dare you?” I whisper, tears flooding my eyes, clinging to my lashes. “How dare you after all this time just show up and say that and—” My throat closes, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Y-you were dead and?—”

He reaches for me.

But I’m already reaching for him, throwing my arms around his neck, launching myself at him, hugging him.

Too tightly, considering his grunt.

Or maybe that was the whole launching myself at him part.

Either way, he’s in my arms and he’s hugging me back, and the bevy of emotions—disbelief, confusion, shock, hurt, anger…and biggest, because of course it’s the biggest, is relief.

He’s here.

He’s alive.

After I finally let him go.

My lungs hitch and my eyes burn with tears all over again.

I have so many questions for him, so many answers I want to demand from him…but tonight, with feet on his grave, my arms around his neck, I just…can’t.

So, when he says, “I need to explain,” I shift out of his hold and shake my head.

“Not tonight,” I whisper.

He’s hurt and barely standing.

My mind is so fucking twisted up I can barely find his hand and lace our fingers together.

“But the guys,” he says. “And you. I?—”

I squeeze his hand. “Colt,” I begin, starting to draw him toward my car, his exhaustion flowing off him and rippling through the air. “Please,” I say. “Please let’s not do this tonight.”

I lost him, this man I loved…

And he’s here.

I mourned him for years…

And he’s here.

I finally let him go…

And he’s here.

I can’t do this, can’t face this, can’t handle this.

Well, I can.

And I will.

Just…not tonight.