“No.” King cuts her off, sounding a little more like himself.

  The doctor nods. “Alright. I’ll get the paperwork taken care of and have a wheelchair sent to the room.”

  When she leaves, King stays where he is. Standing at the far side of the room. Bag in hand.

  After a long moment, he clears his throat. “Are you okay with me helping you dress?”

  His question stabs into my chest.

  Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?

  Feeling like he needs me to say it, I wet my lips. “Yes.”

  It comes out scratchy, but it’s audible.

  King’s chest expands with an inhale, then he comes around to the side of my bed.

  His big hands are so careful. So damn careful when he helps me up, that I can’t stop the tears from starting again. And his palms are so gentle, as they steady my shoulders when I’m sitting up, with my legs over the edge of the bed.

  Seeing the tears, King crouches before me. “Am I hurting you?”

  My vision swims, being upright taking its toll on me, so I close my eyes as I answer, “No. It’s…”

  “Here.” I slide one eye open to see him holding a cup with a straw to my lips.

  Grateful, I take a sip. The cool water soothing my aching throat.

  I open my mouth to say more, to ask him why he’s acting like I’ve died, but he stops me. “Save your energy, Savannah.”

  Just Savannah.

  To undo the ties of the hospital gown, King has to let go of my shoulders.

  The loss makes me feel unsteady, so I reach out with my good hand and place my palm against his chest.

  He freezes at my touch, and I don’t know why. I just know that I hate it.

  With my gown off, King pulls a loose t-shirt over my head, one I recognize as his.

  Then, he kneels before me, a pair of his sweatpants in hand, and he slides them up my legs, pulling the elastic bottoms up over my feet, so the extra material bunches at my ankles, and I realize these must be the pair I took from him before.

  He gets halfway up my thighs, as far as he can get with me still sitting, then he pulls out a pair of his socks and slides them on.

  My crying seems to bother him, so I bite down on my lip, trying my hardest to hold the tears back. But watching him dress me in his clothes, when it would’ve been just as easy to bring my own…it’s tying my heart in knots.

  As he rises, he pulls another two items out of the bag that I hadn’t expected.

  He undoes the fastening at the back of the baseball hat, making it as loose as possible, before gently setting it on my head. The worn material resting lightly on my hair, not bothering my injury, but blocking out light from above.

  Then he leans down, so he can slide a pair of expensive looking sunglasses onto my face.

  They’re clearly his, since they’re big, and aren’t tight against my temples.

  I can’t stop my sniffle, and staring straight ahead of me, I watch his throat work on a swallow.

  “Let’s get you up, okay?” His words are soft and I want to know why he’s acting like this.

  Together, we get me on my feet, and with a hand around my waist holding me steady, King pulls the sweatpants up the rest of the way.

  It’s so close to an embrace, that I close my eyes and pretend it is.

  CHAPTER 84

  King

  I stand in the doorway, watching Savannah sleep on our bed, and I want to go to her. I want to hold her in my arms and tell her everything is going to be okay.

  I want to hold her like I did when I carried her up here. But she only let me do that because she was asleep. Because there was no other choice.

  “Rest, Baby,” I whisper into the dark room, then shut the door.

  CHAPTER 85

  Savannah

  It’s mostly dark when I open my eyes, but I can tell that the bathroom light has been left on and the door part way open.

  I’m in bed. My bed. And the sheets feel so good against my aching body.

  But instead of seeing King lying next to me, it’s a dog.

  A giant, sweet, protective dog that will keep me safe.

  “Hi, Duke,” I mostly mouth it, since my throat still hurts like a bitch, but he still blinks open his eyes at me.

  Shifting closer, I hold one of his paws in my hand and fall back asleep.

  CHAPTER 86

  King

  Duke circles around, twice, before curling up at Savannah’s side.

  I should go.

  My hand grips the doorframe as I sway.

  It’s been five nights. Five nights sleeping in another room. Five nights of drinking. Five nights of feeling like absolute shit.

  Because I miss her.

  Because I crave her company as much as I crave her.

  Duke keeps his head up, staring at me. Like close the door, dickhead.

  This has become our routine. When it gets dark out, I bring Duke to the room. Keeping him in here, with her, until the sun rises again. And while he gets comfortable, I stand here, wanting to go to my wife, but not sure how.

  And then, when this part is done, and I leave, I drown my sorrows. Only every day it takes more to numb the pain.

  Savannah shifts under the covers, and I step back, out of the room. Pulling the door quietly closed as I go, before she can see me.

  In the hall, I take a second to just breathe.

  But it doesn’t help.

  So I do what I always do, I walk away from my sleeping wife and head down to my office.

  I won’t sleep. Not for a while yet, so I might as well work.

  I’m sitting down at my desk when my phone rings.

  I debate for a moment not answering, but hit accept anyway, putting it on speaker so I can use both hands to pour some whiskey into a glass.

  “Since I’m hoping you wouldn’t answer a call mid-stream, I’m going to assume you’re drinking.” Nero’s voice projects into the room.

  “Such a detective,” I reply, swallowing a mouthful.

  “Let me guess”––before Nero even starts, I know it’s time for a new best friend––“You’re over there, beating yourself up over what happened. And instead of facing the facts head on and getting the fuck over it, you’re being a drunk dumbass.” He makes a humming sound. “I’m also guessing you’re pulling some weird martyr shit and sleeping on the couch.”

  “I hate you.”

  Nero huffs, “So, I’m right.”

  “I’m sleeping in a guestroom.” I correct him, like that makes it any better.

  “You do realize you’re doing it all wrong.”

  “Oh, do I?” I snap.

  “Well, I wouldn’t entrust my life to a fucking moron, so yeah, I think you do realize.”

  “Thanks,” I deadpan.

  “Seriously, what the fuck are you doing? Quit falling on your nonexistent sword, and just tell your wife you love her. It’s not that scary.”

  Love. He had to fucking say the word.

  I tip back the glass, downing the rest of the booze.

  I know I love her. Because I’m not a fucking moron.

  I’ve loved her for a while.

  I think I started falling in love with her when she kicked me in the balls while I was kidnapping her.

  But I also know… “I don’t deserve her.”

  Nero laughs. Like the bastard he is, he laughs. “No shit you don’t deserve her. King, she’s a woman. We don’t deserve any of them.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But that doesn’t stop us from keeping them.” Nero believes this statement with his whole heart.

  “I can’t just keep her!” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know they’re a lie.

  “Of course you can. And you will.”

  I pour another glass of whiskey, but just stare at it.

  “Don’t you ever feel bad about dragging Payton into the dark side of life?” I ask Nero the question that’s been burning through my heart.

  “No.”

  I wait for further explanation, but Nero doesn’t expand. “No?”

  “No,” he repeats. “She belongs with me. And I live in the dark. So that’s where she belongs too.”

  “But…” That’s just his crazy talking. Right?

  “Also…” I swear I can see the smug look on his stupid face when he starts with that tone. “That wife of yours let you fuck her in front of a dead man, so don’t pretend like you’re ripping the wings off an angel.”

  “He wasn’t dead yet,” I grumble.

  “Good argument,” Nero deadpans. “Now be fucking straight with me. What’s the actual problem?”

  “That’s not enough of a problem?”

  “You were there.” He reminds me. “You were there when my wife got kidnapped and held at gunpoint because of me. I know what it feels like to fail the person you love. But what I don’t understand is why you’re getting drunk and sleeping alone. After what happened to Payton, you couldn’t pry me from her side.”

  “You still can’t,” I grumble.

  “King.” Nero says my name like he knows I’m hiding something.

  I drop my head, the shame of it all weighing me down. “She flinched away from me.”

  And Goddamn, does that hurt to say out loud.

  “When?”

  “When she first woke up…” I take a breath, reliving the moment for the hundredth time. “She was rolling over at the base of the stairs, and I reached for her. Because I didn’t think she should move. And she flinched.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She’s scared of me!” I shout the admission.

  Nero is silent for a second, “She’s not scared of you.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Easy,” he replies. “Savannah is your match.”

  My match.

  Heavy emotion wraps around my heart.

  If only that were true.

  “And I mean,” Nero continues, “I’m sure there’s all sorts of other weird shit you guys do that I don’t want to know about.”

  “Fuck off.” I reach out and end the call.

  CHAPTER 87

  Savannah

  My bare feet pad slowly down the hall.

  Today is the first time in the week since the attack that I’ve stepped foot outside of my bedroom and not found Ginger sitting in a chair, in the middle of the hall, telling me to go back to bed.

  Taking that as a sign that I’m recovered enough to finally wander, I continue to the stairs.

  Between long bouts of sleeping, I’ve been walking laps around the bedroom, so I’m not too unsteady on my feet. But the stairs…

  I shove away the urge to be sick at the thought of the stairs.

  If I can sleep in that bed alone for a week, I can walk down these stairs.

  Except I wasn’t completely alone.

  King never came to bed. King never came to see me at all.

  But every night someone would come to the room and put Duke inside. Shutting the door behind him. Giving me a protector.

  It had to be King.

  I don’t know why he’s been avoiding me. Since he won’t talk to me, or even get close enough to look at me, I can’t ask him.

  But if there’s one thing I know about King, it’s that he takes safety seriously. And since I’ve had a week to dwell on it, I’d bet all my worldly goods that he’s staying away because of guilt. Out of some misplaced sense of failure. And he’s probably twisted that around until he’s convinced himself that I hate him.

  But that’s stupid.

  He’s stupid.

  I could never hate––

  The air leaves my lungs because I’m at the top of the stairs, and…

  I have to clutch the railing.

  They’re carpeted.

  Tears…so many damn tears stream down my cheeks.

  Carefully, I place one foot on the first carpeted step, and the material is so soft and plush it almost feels springy.

  I choke out a sob.

  He’s so fucking stupid.

  I hold the railing the whole way down, and I don’t experience any of the fear I expected to. I don’t relive any of the horrible memories of the last time I came down these same steps. Because they aren’t the same steps. Because King did this. For me.

  When I reach the bottom, I feel shaky from exhaustion and emotion, but I stay focused and make my way to the kitchen.

  I woke up an hour before Cici usually delivers the first of too many meals, so I thought I would try to beat her, and eat down here.

  “Oh my god, Savannah!” Cici rushes around the counter the second she spots me. “You fool, what are you doing?!”

  Even though I can feel sweat on my forehead, I smile at her calling me a fool. “Needed a change of scenery.”

  I think she says something about me being just as dumb as him but I’m too busy being herded to the living room and deposited on the couch to pay attention.

  Blinking, I see a plate filled with scrambled eggs and fried potatoes on the coffee table in front of me. And next to that, a plate with a sandwich that looks like a BLT. And two different flavors of bottled electrolyte drinks.

  “I’d recommend skipping the breakfast,” Ginger’s voice startles me from across the room and I jump.

  “Jesus.” She’s just sitting in one of the armchairs, phone in her lap. “Were you watching me sleep?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “Basically. King lost his shit when he found you sleeping on the couch.”

  That makes me sit up. “King was out here?”

  “Yeah, and I happened to be in the kitchen grabbing lunch when he saw you. So I get to sit right the fuck here until she goes to bed.” She deepens her voice on the last part. “So looks like I’m back on Savannah Duty.”

  I don’t know how to feel.

  Him worrying about me means… Well, it means something. That he cares about me. At least a little. But him not willing to sit out here with me himself…

  “Why didn’t he just sit out here?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

  Ginger lifts a brow at me. “Because he’s avoiding you.” Her tone says duh without her having to actually say it.

  “I don’t understand,” I admit.

  Ginger looks toward the kitchen, and I turn too, but no one is there.

  “Okay, here’s how it is.” Ginger lowers her voice, so I lean forward to hear her. “Cici told me that we shouldn’t get involved. Because King is the boss and we owe him our loyalty. But the way I see it, you’re our boss too. And women should stick together.” She smirks on that last one. “So, a few things that have happened since, well, the incident.” She widens her eyes when she says it. “I’m assuming you noticed the carpet already.” I nod, pressing my lips together at the memory. “Well, he’s also had the entire property swept for some jammer thing, and then had anti-jammer things installed all around both houses.” At my confused look, she rolls her eyes. “Something about cell phone signals not working. I don’t really know. Jamie wasn’t making a lot of sense when he was telling me. And then…” she snorts, “King had those installed all over the house.” She points to the wall, and it takes me a second to find what she’s looking at.

  “Is that a wall phone?” The black plastic looks new, mounted to the wall, but the corded style is straight out of the eighties.

  “I know, right?” Ginger confirms. “Those are in case the cell phone non-jammer thingys don’t work, so there’s still a way to reach people in the house. There’s one in your bedroom, too.”

  I blink at her. “How?”

  “I had to sit against the bathroom door to let King know when you were getting out of the shower, so he could drill the holes and run the wires. Good thing you take forever in the shower.” I ignore the dig, since it’s not like I’ve had anything better to do with my time. “Didn’t know the boss had it in him to wire stuff.”

  “But…a landline?” I still can’t believe it.

  “You’ve missed a lot of Jamie’s kids these days jokes, so consider yourself lucky.” I smile, thinking of her goofy husband and can just imagine. “But that’s not even the craziest thing he did.” I’m almost afraid to ask, but Ginger doesn’t make me. “He got two more dogs, too.”

  My jaw drops. “What?”

  “Yep. Same breed as Duke, but younger.”

  “What…” my chest tightens. “What are their names?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Earl and Baron.”

  It’s so stupid. And funny. And I don’t know why I’m all of a sudden crying.

  “Aww, girl, don’t do that!” Ginger hurries out of her chair and comes to sit next to me on the couch.

  “Sorry,” I brush the tears away. “It’s just… In the closet…” I sniffle. “I don’t get it. He’s doing all of this,” I gesture in front of me, meaning the whole property, “but he won’t come near me. Or come check on me.”

  “Well, first…” Ginger hands me a tissue. “He’s the one that’s been putting that dog in your room every night. And if I was a betting woman, I’d put all my chips on the he stands there and watches you bet.”

  I’d already assumed it was him doing it. But it’s nice to have it confirmed.

  I take a second to blow my nose. “I mean, I know men are weird.” Ginger scoffs. “But even if he feels bad about me getting hurt, I still don’t understand why he’s avoiding me. Like why wouldn’t he at least sleep with me at night?”

  Ginger blows out a breath. “Okay, so here’s the part that ethically I probably shouldn’t tell you.”

  I turn to face her. “But you’re going to anyway?”

  “Obviously. Okay, so, like two nights ago I was working late, because I took the afternoon to babysit my nieces. Anywho, I may have seen King coming down the stairs, after what I assumed was him putting Duke in your room. And I may have been cleaning the picture frames in the hallway outside of his office door, and he may have been on the phone…”