Page 103 of The Fed Sex Man

As the officer drove past, my muscles relaxed. It was over. We were free to go on about our business, but I felt I couldn’t move. With tear-filled eyes, I studied Tyson. What I saw was an angry little boy who’d been stripped of his youth. Of his innocence. Of his father.

Through the course of the tension-filled event that we’d narrowly escaped, I realized something. I didn’t want to lose Tyson.

I couldn’t lose Tyson.

“Tyson,” I said.

Still leaning against the car, he was staring at the ticket he held. His eyes were narrow, and his jaw was tight. He shifted his gaze to meet mine.

His fierce brown eyes were filled with anger. “Yeah?”

I wanted to protect him, but a gun wasn’t my weapon of choice. I needed to provide him the warmth of reassurance that I wasn’t going anywhere. That through the thick and the thin, I’d be there at his side, no matter what.

That he could trust me.

Saying it was a huge risk, but one I was willing to take. I swallowed heavily, and then offered him a smile.

“I love you,” I said.

The angry look he was wearing faded. Sheer content replaced it. Green eyes with amber specks glistened as they held my gaze.

He exhaled a soft breath. The corners of his mouth curled up. “I love you, too.”