Say It's Forever (Redemption Hills 2)

Pain fractured and the world started to tip to the side when I felt his finger tremble on the trigger.

This was it.

It was it.

Then a flurry hit.

The roll of the engine and a moment later the fury of the bike.

It all happened so fast I could barely digest it.

The blur of sound and glinting metal.

But I guessed it was my heart that recognized it. Processed what was happening as if it played out in slow motion.

Jud blew by.

A rifle drawn.

My mouth dropped open, and the gun trembled at my head.

A millisecond later, there was a deafening crack.

A scream tore from my soul as everything shook.

Carlo flew back, his arms no longer bound around me.

I slowly turned to see his lifeless body bleeding out on the ground.

Shock dropped me to my hands and knees. I gasped as I tried to see through the disorder.

To the motorcycle that skidded on the pavement, to the way Jud never fully stopped before he jumped off. The bike tumbled and rolled, while the mountain of a man stalked my way.

His boots a thunder on the pavement.

A pound, pound, pound that filled me to overflowing.

I wheezed and cried, “Juni.”

Jud knelt in front of me. “She’s safe, Salem, she is safe.”

“Oh, god.” I crumbled, no longer able to keep myself upright.

But it was his arms that supported me.

His arms that curled around me as he took me into the safety of his hold. He sank onto his butt on the road and pulled me into the well of his lap.

He hugged me and murmured and whispered, “I have you, I have you.”

I’d known there was something about the man that whispered of his darkness.

Of danger.

Of bloodshed and barbarity.

But I’d never been so sure of the goodness, of the righteous ferocity that burned inside of him—not until right then.

My wicked, wicked savior.

“I have you, Salem. I have you.”

A sob tore free. I released it at the warmth of his neck where I clung to him, my face pressed into his beard, into the disorder of his pulse that drummed so hard I could feel it become one with my being.

Massive arms encircled me.

Held me in their warmth.

Sirens screamed as three police cars arrived on the scene. An ambulance and a firetruck came to a stop behind them.

“Mimi,” I cried. My sobs were uncontrollable as my fingernails sank into Jud’s shoulders.

The loss.

The loss.

“Mimi.”

I felt the movement of him gesturing wildly.

Footsteps stampeded around us.

Curses and shock.

The horror of the massacre that had unfolded on our lawn.

An officer loomed over us.

Jud pressed his mouth to the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, Salem. I am so fuckin’ sorry.”

My head shook beneath his chin, lost beneath the cover of his beard and his giant heart. “You saved us.”

He’d saved us.

His shame had been mine and Juni’s saving grace.

That horrible night four years ago and again today.

Our wicked, beautiful savior.

And I prayed, he’d let me save him from the horror of the past I finally understood.

One that I shared with him.

Our hearts knitted and forever bound.

THIRTY-SEVEN

JUD

I hovered outside the intensive care room where the lights were cut dim and a slew of machines quietly hummed and beeped.

My goddamn heart pressed at my ribs and climbed to form a lump in my throat.

It was funny how Salem had said when she’d first come here that she’d felt like an outsider, like she didn’t belong, when I’d never been so sure of it for myself than right then.

But I didn’t know how to walk. How to turn and go.

Not when this enchantress of a woman had caught me up.

Got me spellbound.

Black-fuckin’-magic.

My feet moved of their own accord, unable to resist the lure.

Still, the shame slowed my steps. Hung my head. Ripped my already mangled heart to shreds.

I slipped through the door that remained open a crack and edged up behind the chair that was pulled close to the hospital bed.

Salem held her grandmother’s hand. Held it firm but soft.

I set mine on the caps of Salem’s shoulders, needing to be there for her, to hold her up when I knew she was close to faltering. My voice was haggard when I said, “She’s going to make it. She’s strong. Crazy strong. A survivor. A fighter. Just like her granddaughter.”

Salem’s chest shook in tiny quivers, like the girl was trying to keep her cries subdued. “I always wanted to make her proud. To grow up and be something. To take care of her. Support her and provide for her the way she’d provided for us.”

A slow chuckle of affection rumbled out. “I might not know all the details of your lives, Salem, but I know the way Mimi looks at you. With pride. With joy. With love. You don’t have to question that.”

“I hate it,” she choked. “I hate that it came to this. Hate that the choices I made when I was young caused so much pain and loss. I hate what Darius did. Hate that he’s gone. Hate that I’m so thankful that because he did, Juni can finally experience the life I always dreamed she might have.”