Say It's Forever (Redemption Hills 2)

All while poor Juni kept touching her mother’s hand and telling her it was going to be fine. When she’d said, “See, Mommy, the bad man is gone. We don’t gots to worry. We can stays right here. We don’t need to goes on a new adventures.”

It’d ripped out my fuckin’ heart.

Like the adorable smile she pinned on her mouth would make everything better, and just claiming it would make it true.

This little thing who wanted to stay.

Darius had knelt in front of where we’d seated Salem on the couch, brushing her hair back and insisting it was a random car. He’d done his best to coax her into peace. He said it was probably someone who lived in the neighborhood or maybe a friend who stopped by often, which would be a good explanation for it showing twice.

He’d told her time and again it was her paranoia getting the best of her.

Personally, I’d known his suggestions were bullshit, especially considering I was certain it was the same car that had been lurking outside my shop.

I hadn’t argued, though, since it’d been the only thing that had gotten Salem to settle. What bought me the time I was gonna need to weed this fucker out and put him in the ground.

Darius had taken her by the face, said, “You’re fine. You’re not going anywhere. Promise me you won’t just leave.”

She’d sniffled and taken a deep breath, whispered, “I promise.”

All while the demon inside me had raged.

Because even when I’d finally stepped out of her house after nine last night, I didn’t get far. I’d sat in my truck, standing guard.

Even once the sun had cracked the sky, I’d still been buzzing. On alert as I’d followed Salem to the shop.

She’d been here for three hours without saying a word to me. Lost in her worry.

I tried to focus on work, but the only thing I could feel was her anxiety winding tight, and I couldn’t do anything but edge into the reception area again, needing to check on the one who’d upended my world.

My skin prickled the second I stepped inside.

A storm on the horizon. One that made landfall the second I felt her spirit thrash through the room.

It beat the fuck out of my insides. Destroying me in the best and worst of ways.

She wasn’t behind the desk, and in an instant, I looked to the farthest wall of the lobby where a counter ran the length. She stood away from me and facing the counter, slowly stirring a cup of coffee, those long locks of black cascading down her back, that dress hugging her curves, wearing those heels she was killing me with day after day.

But her head was drooped between her sagging shoulders, this fierce, brave girl curling in on herself, turmoil radiating from her being.

I knew she felt me.

That energy zapped.

Vibrations pulsed from her body, skidding through the air and trembling across my flesh.

A flashfire of greed staked through my chest.

Possession.

Didn’t have the first clue which of us was compelling the other, just knew there was no destination other than the one where we met.

Slowly, I edged closer. My boots thudded the floor with each measured step, and my heart climbed into my throat, cutting off the flow of oxygen.

Chills rippled down her arms as I inched up behind her.

Girl withdrew and withheld.

Wavering.

Wanting to run and hide, all while desperate to sink back into my hold at the same damned time.

“Baby.” The word was a ragged grunt.

All those barriers hardened, and she gritted the defense, “I’m not your baby, Jud.”

My mouth moved to her ear. “Aren’t you?”

My hands found the caps of her shoulders, and I ran my palms down her trembling arms until I threaded the fingers of both our hands together.

A shiver rocked down her spine.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Jud.” Her voice slipped into grief.

“What’s that?”

“Stay.”

Every cell in my body revolted. I tightened my hands around hers. “I know you’re afraid, darlin’.”

It would have been a scoff coming from her mouth if the sound hadn’t have held so much pain. “Afraid? I’m terrified, Jud. Every day of my life is this. Trying to stay one step ahead of him, petrified of the day he catches up to me.”

“Give me a name.”

Salem’s head shook. “You can’t fix this.”

“Let me try.”

“It’s not your burden.”

My spirit roared and the demon writhed. I swallowed it down and slowly turned her in my hold.

Blue eyes speared me, but where they normally flamed and struck and stormed with determination, they’d dimmed with defeat.

I touched her jaw, running my thumb over the scar that represented everything that she was.

A fighter.

A survivor.

Beautiful, inside and out.

“Not sure how it could be a burden, Salem. Not when you’ve become my everything.”

Anguish lanced through her expression. I tipped her chin up farther. “Is this when it normally happens? When you pack up and go?”