Page 106 of Wayward

“Yeah.”

“She died in a car bomb meant for your father.”

“That’s true too. Why the report on him?”

“He’s having health concerns, so they moved up his sentencing.”

“I see.”

“You haven’t told me everything about what happened, but I’ve cataloged every scar on your body, and I plan to learn the story about each one. I’m especially interested in that bullet wound near your heart.”

“Well, that was my best friend. You only hurt the ones you love.”

“No. I love you, and I would never hurt you!” he yelled, overcome with emotion that I could hear in his voice and see in his face.

“I know that,” I soothed him.

He gripped the gate hard. “You could have died. I mean, at any time, you could have been gone, just dead, bleeding out in some alley, and I would have never… You wouldn’t be mine. Misha wouldn’t be mine. I just… That’s the absolute worst thing I can think of.”

“Thank you,” I said from my heart.

“In some alternate universe, Maks, you’re not with me. My life is different.”

“Maybe—and this is just a suggestion,” I said, reaching him, lifting my hand to his chest, putting it over his heart, “perhaps the best thing to do is concentrate on this reality.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out as I turned and yelled for my dog.

“What the hell,” Gale whispered, watching Misha finally come around the side of the barn. He was wearing his anti-get-murdered vest and looked like a neon-yellow porcupine. “Why is he wearing that?”

“Genie claims to have seen a hawk,” I answered drolly.

“Oh, she did not,” he grumbled. “She just thinks it’s funny to put him in that thing. I’m gonna yell at her at dinner.”

Gale didn’t yell at anyone except me, and only when he was utterly terrified. Like he did a week ago when I was hanging off the new roof of Ada’s house. Apparently the railing for the widow’s walk was not actually ready to be used yet and was only for show. Someone should have told me that before I leaned on it. The good news was, I had excellent balance. The bad news was, Gale nearly had a heart attack watching me dangle for a couple of minutes before I pulled myself up.

“Can I say something else?” he asked as he placed his hand over mine on his heart.

“Of course.”

“I’m amazed at the man you turned out to be, and I’m guessing I can thank your mother for that.”

“You can.”

“I love that you carry her with you every day in your locket, and I really like that it hangs in my face every time you ride me in bed.”

I shook my head at him. “You’re a sick man.”

He leaned in and kissed me.

Misha whimpered.

“Your dog is a cock block,” he complained, easing back, opening the gate, and leaning over to pick up Misha. “Can you even pee in this?” he asked our dog before turning for the porch. “Let’s get this thing off you.”

I took a breath. “I love you.”

He stopped moving and looked at me over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, what?”

I growled.