Page 163 of Under Your Scars

“He won’t answer.” I let out a sad laugh. I tap my fingers up Christian’s chest and smile sheepishly. “Maybe another grandchild will make him soft?”

Christian smiles back at me. “Don’t tempt me Mrs. Reeves. I wasn’t kidding about opening my wound. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll fuck you, and I won’t stop until I put a baby in you.”

My face falls as I think about children and babies, and tears glaze over my eyes. “Caroline…God, I can’t even imagine what it would have done to her if you died. She didn’t even understand what was happening and I didn’t have the strength to tell her.”

He cradles my head in his large hands. “I know,” he whispers against my lips. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He swallows the thick lump in his throat. His chest begins to puff out with anger. “I will find out who did this and make them meet the same fate as Neil Hayden for trying to take me away from you. That’s a promise. No one who tries to tear apart my family will get away with it.”

After I help Christian out of the bath, I pick up my phone and call my father. The phone rings, and rings, and rings, just like I knew it would.

I’m sorry. Mailbox full. Goodbye!

CHAPTER 51

THE SILENCER

“Goddamn it,” I growl, giving up on the 45-pound dumbbells at my feet. I’m pissed off. I haven’t been able to lift anything heavier than a goddamn pitcher of water in weeks.

I’ve lost so much of my strength—and my dignity—since I was shot. Elena did everything she could to keep me pain-free, clean, fed, and entertained in the initial weeks after I woke up in the hospital. But every meal she fed me, every time she bathed me, every time she changed my bandages, it felt like I was losing more and more of myself.

I’m supposed to be the protector.

Unfortunately, I’ve failed at every opportunity.

Just like I’m failing at this workout.

I can’t do pull ups. I can’t do deadlifts or squats. I can’t use free weights. I can’t jog on the treadmill. I can’t even hold my fucking daughter.

Frank Valenti is still out there, somewhere. I don’t think he’s the culprit behind the assassination attempt, but he’s still got a target on his head for far worse than that.

He touched my wife. Raped her. Beat her.

I haven’t forgotten the fear on her face behind that glass.

I will never forget it, and rest will never come easy to me until I kill him for bringing her that fear. For haunting her nightmares.

He is one of two reasons why I’m pushing myself so hard to heal and become strong again. Valenti is on my shit list for touching my wife, and the fucker who shot me deserves a bullet in the brain for good-old-fashioned revenge.

Elena would kill me if she found me in my home gym trying to lift a dumbbell when I still can’t even shower on my own without help. Lifting my arms above my head is next to impossible. It feels like my chest is getting ripped apart every time I try.

The bullet entered me at an angle on my left side, directly below my ribcage. Tore straight through me. Caused massive internal bleeding.

I’m alive because even with a laser sight, the fucker who shot me has shit aim. The police confirmed that an M24 was used after finding the bullet soaked in my blood a few feet away from where I collapsed. Whoever shot me probably camped out all day, waiting for me to see the carnage he left in my office, knowing I’d have to come outside where he could get a clear shot. He wanted the police to be there. He wantedElenato be there. He’s trying to send a message.

It’s my job to figure out what that message is before he does any more damage to my family.

This entire mess already fucked up Elena’s chance at taking the bar exam. She missed it because she was in the hospital with me. Her next opportunity won’t be until July.

Just one more way I’ve failed her.

Gavin clearing his throat at the entrance of the gym pulls me out of my thoughts. I wipe the sweat off my face with my shirt. “What is it?” I ask, noting the hardened expression on his face.

“The name Katherine McGinnis mean anything to you?”

I take a second to search through my mind. I shrug. “Should it?”

Gavin hands me his phone. On the screen, a photo of a tall, strawberry-blonde woman with a sultry smirk on her face. “Oh. Kate. She’s one of Elena’s friends. Why?”

“Mrs. Reeves and I went into the city to pick up a refill of your prescriptions. We stopped at a café so she could grab us a coffee. This woman approached her, and they seemed familiar with each other.”