Page 132 of Jonas

“Way too fucking soon,” he rumbled. “It could be fifty years from now and it would still be too soon.”

Okay. Note to self, don’t joke about dying.

But with my lungs full of fresh air and my man’s arm around me, nothing seemed off-limits.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“Thank God you’re okay!” Kira exclaimed the moment I carried Derrika through the front door of the cabin.

I loved KK like a sister, but fuck me, I could take no more, and her excited screech pushed me closer to the edge. The only thing that had kept me from flying apart was the weight of Derrika in my arms—the place she’d been since I picked her up, put her in the backseat of the Escalade, then shifted her onto my lap and held her all the way to the farm.

She said not a word when I pulled the seatbelt around both of us. When she rested her head on my shoulder and sighed, I knew she needed the closeness as much as I did. The drive back was mostly silent, with only a few quiet exchanges between Lore and Cash. And Cash drove us home like a cautious granny—no swerving, no speeding, no aggressive maneuvers. I’d never again bitch about his driving. It was because of him, we’d hit that auto shop in time. Another few minutes and we would’ve been too late.

So close.

Too fucking close.

I’d been minutes away from losing everything I ever wanted, losing the woman who was born to be mine.

Minutes.

And the fuck of it was, I’d driven her to that bitch, then sat outside while she was being kidnapped. I was right outside talking to Easton when Natalie, Keith, and Jun De had walked her out the back door.

It was because of me, the side of her face was swollen and already turning green and purple. It was my fault her ankles were bleeding. I was responsible for her hands being tied behind her back and her shoulder dislocated.

Me.

I did that to her.

“Bring her in here,” Nebraska ordered, pointing to the kitchen. “I have everything ready.”

I ignored Natalie and turned toward the living room.

“Jonas, I need⁠—”

“Let him do what he needs to do,” Cash gently admonished Natalie.

I grunted my gratitude.

Derrika shifted. Her hand came up. Palm to my cheek, she whispered, “Honey, I’m okay.”

She wasn’t okay, she was fucking bleeding and bruised and there was no telling when the day’s events would sneak up on her and fuck with her head.

I lowered my ass to the couch as gently as I could, leaned back, and tightened my hold just in case Derrika got it in her head to move off my lap.

I understood her play walking out of that garage, needing to leave on her own two feet by her free will after she’d been forced to be somewhere she didn’t want to be. But now, she wasn’t moving.

Nebraska approached like she was advancing on a wild animal primed to attack. “She’s bleeding.”

I clenched my jaw at the reminder.

“I need to clean her ankles,” she continued softly.

“Want some bourbon?” Lore offered. “It’ll help with the pain.”

That edge I was riding was becoming precarious.

“Tequila would be better,” Derrika answered.