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Writing was part of her therapy. She was going to take full advantage of it. Each morning she started her day, working on her fireman romance. She had another series in mind she wanted to start about a vigilante police officer who loved fighting crime dirty.
She didn’t know where she’d got that inspiration from.
A chuckle escaped her.
While Dalton tinkered around in the kitchen, making them snacks, she lounged on the couch, flicking through the television channels. Her bruising had started to go away. It, of course, had to get worse first before it healed. At the moment, she had dark-purple bruising that was lightening up in certain parts.
Her throat was still scratchy and sore, but she was able to speak softly. The doctors didn’t want her holding long conversations, so Dalton had purchased her a few notebooks she could keep to write down what she needed.
“Find anything yet?” Dalton walked into the living room.
Her breath caught in her throat. He was dressed in a dark LVFD t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants.
He was just too sexy for his own good.
It had played havoc on her body sleeping next to him the last couple of days since she’d been out of the hospital. She shouldn’t be having these carnal thoughts while she was healing, but she couldn’t help it.
“Not really,” she replied in her new husky voice. Her throat didn’t hurt as bad, but it was a strain to speak. She would be attending speech therapy a few times a week to help.
Dalton made her scoot over to allow him to sit next to her. He sat their snacks on the coffee table and laid her legs across his lap and covered her up.
He handed her a bowl of cherry Jello. One of her favorites. Its coolness helped soothe her throat.
“Here, give me that.” He shuffled through the channels.
Since the attack and fire, it had been hard for her to fully relax. Glenn was out there somewhere. There had been a national manhunt for him. It was only a matter of time before he was captured.
Until then, she wouldn’t feel completely safe. The prosecutor had visited her while in the hospital. According to him, there was enough evidence to convict Glenn on everything. She may not even have to testify.
But if she had to, she would.
She didn’t want to miss the chance to look the asshole in the face and show that he hadn’t broken her.
She was still here.
Dalton paused on the news. A picture flashing across the screen caught her attention.
“Authorities have finally apprehended the wanted man, Glenn Willis,” a blonde female newscaster announced.
Glenn was almost unrecognizable. There were large lumps, bruises, and cuts on his face. Both eyes were practically swollen shut.
“Apparently, there are some good Samaritans out there. Police say Willis was left out on the steps of the police station handcuffed to a railing with a sign on his chest,” the male news anchor said.
Anya gasped. She leaned into Dalton, needing his strength. Tears filled her eyes at the news.
Glenn was finally behind bars.
“No bond has been set at the moment,” the anchorwoman said. “Glenn Willis was wanted on numerous amounts of charges from arson, attempted murder, breaking and entering, to name a few.”
Sobs broke free and racked her body. Dalton grabbed her bowl and spoon from her hand. He set them down then turned to her, wrapping his arms around her.
She held on tight, letting the tears flow.
It was over.
Dalton didn’t say one word. His strong hands rubbed her back while he pressed soft kisses to the top of her head.
Glenn couldn’t touch her any longer.
