Burned Hearts (Burned 3)

I spared a glance at my belly. A peculiar thought gelled in my head. One I wasn’t sure he’d understand.

I said, “I don’t really know how to say this, because it won’t come out right. But I would sacrifice myself for you; the way you did for me. It’s just that, in doing so, I’d put our son’s life in danger. I wouldn’t want to hurt him. Or leave you without him.”

The waterworks started. All this tension couldn’t be good for the baby, which aggravated me further. Made me a little irrational, so that I wasn’t quite thinking straight.

I told Dane, “You’d be upset if anything happened to me, I know. But this kid…” I stared up at Dane and saw the raw pain in his eyes. “That would be pure hell for you.”

“All of this is pure hell for me.”

“But it’s necessary, Dane.” I emphasized the importance of what he was doing, even though it bordered on disastrous. Yet there was so much good that would inevitably come of us sticking to the plan. “I chose to travel this path with you. I’m perfectly aware of the risks. I had plenty of opportunities to step away from the flame. But I love you and I can’t be without you. And what you’re doing—”

I sighed, not able to latch on to the words to accurately express my admiration for his determination and resiliency. “So many people will benefit from the collapse of the society. You’re the one making it happen. I’m so proud of you.”

I leaned toward him and he draped his good arm around my shoulder, holding me tight. My cheek pressed to his bare pecs, his warm, smooth skin reassuring. I flattened my palm against the corrugated grooves of his abdomen and stayed nestled against him for Lord only knew how long, inhaling his delicious scent and finding the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing.

He drifted in and out of sleep, likely from the pain meds. I gleaned a huge amount of relief from his light, fluid snoring. It helped to bring my anxiety down several notches.

Amano came for us mid-afternoon, when Dane was rested.

“You’re packed,” Amano told me in his low voice. “Whenever you’re both ready, we’ll move.”

“No time like the present,” I said, desperately wanting to go home. I gazed at Dane, whose eyelids had fluttered open when he’d heard Amano speak. “If you’re up to it, that is.”

“Of course.” He didn’t have any trouble throwing his long, powerful legs over the side of the bed and getting to his feet. My brow dipped. Maybe he’d refused the pain meds, not wanting anything to impair his judgment or slow him down. “Let’s do this,” he simply said.

Dread clawed at me. He had to be hurting. Inside and out.

Amano told him, “Strauss came for Tom and the rifle. Questioned Kyle and myself. He’ll be in contact with you again once he’s interrogated Talbot.”

“That prick had better know to stay away from my family.” Dane’s tone was deadly.

My stomach coiled. I figured we were due for a serious talk about all this turmoil, not just what had happened today. But now was hardly the time, so it was shoved to the back burner.

Which created a bit more internal strife. I couldn’t help feeling as though our relationship, our marriage, our love grew more tenuous with every threat against us. And it was evident in Dane’s eyes that this weighed heavy on his mind as well.

Yet we were too caught up in the current situation to address the overarching issue of how all of these vicious attacks impacted our life together.

We took Amano’s SUV to the house in Oak Creek Canyon. He and Kyle selected rooms and assigned one to Rosa, our house manager. Amano had spoken with her and she’d agreed to a live-in arrangement. He and Dane felt more comfortable with her on-property as opposed to coming and going, possibly being followed and inadvertently putting herself in harm’s way. Since she’d been with Dane for some time and didn’t have kids or a husband at home, she didn’t mind the employment deal. Plus, we paid her incredibly well.

The bedroom in the main wing that sat on the other side of our master suite bathroom was designated for the nursery, and I was relieved to have the impending chore of setting it up to keep my mind off everything else.

After dinner, which Kyle whipped up for everyone, since he put as much effort into being Iron Chef as he did bodyguard—a curious combination—Dane and I retired to our suite. I took a quick, hot shower just to help me relax further. Being in our home did amazing things for my psyche, and my stomach settled. I rubbed it while using my free hand to blow-dry my hair.

I couldn’t imagine what this kid inside of me must be thinking. All of my agitation, jumping nerves, crying jags. Chances were good he’d want to stay huddled in his protective cocoon rather than face the big, bad world in which we lived.

But he still had four more months before making his grand entrance. Plenty of time for the mayhem to be resolved and the bad guys to be locked up. As Dane had mentioned, the trials would begin soon, and I highly doubted they’d be dragged out, given all of the evidence he’d provided.

As I thought of the decimated Lux, I felt a flutter in my belly. The first sensation of the baby stirring. I set aside the dryer and went into the bedroom, where Dane was sprawled on the California king, resting against the mound of pillows, reading a book. As I entered, he set the hardback novel aside and gave me a suspicious look.

“You’re smiling.”

Yeah, not exactly something I’d done of late.

I carefully sat on the mattress so as to not jar him and placed his good hand on my stomach.

“Can you feel anything?”

I knew it wasn’t really a kick. My doctor had told me I’d feel a light “popcorn popping” or the fluttering I’d experienced around this time of my pregnancy, but actual kicks were still a bit off. Didn’t matter. Just feeling the baby move inside me was a wonderful, reassuring sensation.