Page 158 of The Wrong Husband

All I need to do is catch the hand outstretched before me… I take a few more steps, my fingers brushing those of Brody’s.

I stumble and begin to fall, when he leans out, grabs me under my arms, and hauls me inside the SUV and into the footwell between him and the dashboard. My legs hang out. It’s a tight fit, but goddamn, I’m so fucking glad to be here.

"Go, go, go," Brody yells at the driver.

The vehicle reverses. Meanwhile, I hear shots being returned. More shots fired. A bullet slams into the windshield, which cracks. Glass pieces shatter over us.

"What I wouldn’t give to have a battle-ready, reinforced-armored vehicle," Brody growls. "Get us the fuck out of here."

On command, the driver executes a U-turn. The vehicle leaps forward. Brody hauls the rest of my body inside. I’m doubled up, but this is safer.

The men in the back seat hang out of the vehicle and return fire.

"Not long now. We’ll be at camp soon. The rebels won’t follow us there."

I know this, but it’s good to hear it from someone else, too.

Brody pulls out a trauma bandage from his thigh pouch and jams it into my side. Pain shoots up my spine and explodes behind my eyes. "Fuck," I yell.

"You’re shot."

"I’m aware," I say through gritted teeth.

"Best not bleed out. Phoenix won’t be happy if you do."

At the mention of my wife’s name, everything in me lights up.

Do I regret leaving her? Hell, yes.

Every second since I stepped into that godforsaken compound, I’ve thought of her. Her face is what’s kept me going. The memory of her smile. The sound of her laugh. The way she says my name like it means something.

Has it been her, all this time, pulling me back from the edge? Her voice calling out to me when I’ve been unable to sleep at night. Her scent teasing me, evoking hope inside me every time I sank into despair.

Maybe, that’s why I’m still breathing.

Why I’m still fighting. Because I need to get back to her. Because I want—need—to hold her again. To tell her the thing I should’ve said before I left.

I love her.

And I promised myself, if I make it out of this alive, I’m not wasting another second.

I’m going to tell her. All of it. Every messy, broken, desperate part of me—laid bare at her feet. Because she’s it. My reason. My anchor. My home.

And I’m coming back for her. No matter what it takes.

Elation bubbles up in my chest. I can’t wait to be reunited with her.Her.My wife.Mine.

The emotions push aside the pain. The fact that I’ll be seeing her soon rushes to the front of my consciousness. I have no doubt, that’s why Brody mentioned it.

"Nothing’s going to happen to me." My voice weakens, my vision going black around the edges.Fuck, I must be losing a lot of blood.

Brody, too, must sense me fading, for he slaps my face.

"What the fuck?"

"Stay with me," he snaps.

"You’ve been waiting to do that since I kissed Miriam in fourth grade, when really, you had a crush on her all along." I manage to make my tongue form the words.Why does my face feel numb? And why the fuck am I shivering?