Page 146 of Hostile Saint

Everyone started laughing again, except me. I had no idea what she was talking about or why the guys were saying that would be some funny looking broccoli. But I smiled. I was happy. I was blissfully unaware that very night was about to cause something from which I would never recover.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Demanding Peace

As soon as I got to Lacey’s window, I saw Vice was right. She was lying in bed, tired red eyes watching me. She didn’t even get up to open the window. That didn’t stop me from entering. Tate was going to take care of his Pretty Girl, even if he had skipped the vanilla shake in his rush to be with her.

“Hi,” I whispered, not shocked she didn’t reply.

Crawling through the window, I teased, “Nah, Pretty Girl.” I closed the window since the night air was brisker than normal, reminding me the seasons were changing.

So much was changing…

Including Lacey.

“No cryin’ tonight.” We had a new life to celebrate. She just didn’t know it. That’s why I told her something she did know. “Only sugar.”

There’s the smile I want to see, forever.

I stalked forward, “Oh,” smirking, “I see you like my kisses.”

So very pleased she was awake, with no signs of passing out soon due to the fucking doc drugging her, I pulled back her blanket, wanting more of what she had given me the night before. “Is there anyone else who can give you sugar like me?” Gently, I pressed her left shoulder back to get her to lay flat. I was so hungry to feel her body underneath mine.

I think we both groaned as I rested my weight on her perfect form. The contact had me suddenly wanting to lick everywhere.

Her arms welcomed, as did her body.

Trying to not let my hormones distract me, I asked, “Why was my Pretty Girl so sad?”

Her whisper was full of tragic torture. “I finally had a memory.”

I think I felt the blood drain from my face as I thought of Vice telling me this. There was no more hiding from it.

Me not answering seemed to make her sound unsure. “You don’t seem happy for me.”

I will never be happy for what they did to you, baby. “Those memories,” I shook my head, trying to clear all the ones suddenly attacking me all over again, “brought you pain.” My chest squeezed. “I think I just realized I was hoping they wouldn’t come back.” Is this my fault? “It must be me bringing them back.”

Did I just say that all out loud?

Perplexed, she asked, “Tate? Did you know me before I came here?”

Fuck! I looked to the window, wanting to see Lynx and get his advice, but I was on my own. Or was I? Lynx had told me I was the only one of us in the rental home who had a wife. That decisions about her were up to me.

I looked back to Lace. Is it time for you to remember, baby?

I told myself I would give her a gesture. If she recognized it, if she knew what to do, I would have the sign I needed.

I love you, Lacey. Slowly, scared about what she would do, I lifted my scarred left palm.

Her mouth parted as she stared at it.

Then, as if the angels I swore were with us the night we were locked in that trunk returned my faith, my wife lifted her scarred right hand, placing her palm to mine.

Magic once again intertwining our lives, my heart thundered while I repeated words from what now felt like so long ago. “Hold my heart, Pretty Girl.”

Her eyes, now aware, met mine. Then she reached into my soul and took a hold that would never be severed. “Evermore.”

I exhaled. Hello, beautiful soul. “And there is our promise.” They didn’t break us.