10
Mike had never been so panicked in his life.
Injured. His beautiful, perfect Glory was injured, and he didn’t even know how badly. If he tried asking around, he might
implicate himself.
Half an hour ago, he’d called Kirby on the burner phone and gotten the awful truth. While he’d been following her, as close
as he dared so he wouldn’t lose her, she’d swerved to avoid hitting a dog.
That had led to her crashing into a large sturdy oak, her car mangled around it. Kirby had taken off. Mike hated that she’d
been left alone on the long deserted road, but he had to agree that Kirby was right. If he’d been found and questioned, it
might have—somehow—led back to him.
Mike couldn’t very well love Glory, worship her, and possess her if he was tossed in jail.
Stark fear left him shaking. All Kirby knew was that her car was in a ditch, smashed around the tree, and blood was on the windshield.
Blood. His Glory’s blood. Is she dead? Is she disfigured?
At the same bar where he’d met Shara, Mike knocked back a whiskey. It burned all the way down his throat and landed like fire
in his stomach, but it didn’t offer any relief. His hands were shaking, his eyes itching.
He had to find out if she was okay, but how?
He should kill Kirby, the fucking idiot. Obviously, he’d done something wrong. Mike had only wanted Glory followed. He’d wanted
her worried.
Not injured.
How could she come to him if she was hurt?
Just then, he heard someone say, “You hear about that wreck out on Mill Road?”
Hands gripping the edge of the booth, Mike strained forward and listened.
“Young woman was driving. They had to cut her out of the car.”
The words slammed into him like physical blows from a sledgehammer. He weakened, slumping in his seat, his heart thudding
heavily, his guts twisting.
“Is she okay?”
“Don’t know, but they took her to the hospital in an ambulance.”
She had to be okay. No other outcome was acceptable.
“Good thing the hospital is close, I guess.”
A clue! He could do a search to see which hospital was closest to that road.
Did he call to ask about her? What else could he do? He needed to see her, to hold her, to know for a fact that she was all
right, that she was still his perfect Glory.
And if she wasn’t?
He swallowed convulsively, sweat breaking out on his brow, but he knew the truth.
If he couldn’t have her, no one would.
Back in her own home, set up on one of the sofas, Glory felt like the biggest fraud in the world. Yes, she hurt. The kind
of hurt that worsened if she breathed, if she blinked, if she even moved a finger. Her hair was sticky, she could smell antiseptic
on her skin, and the idea of trying to change clothes—or use the bathroom—made her shudder.
But that wasn’t the reason for her moodiness and hopeless worry.
“Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
Sweet, loving Addie. Just looking at her filled Glory’s eyes with fat salty tears. “Don’t be nice to me,” she frantically
ordered. “I’m too ridiculous right now.”
The ice on her shoulder kept her shivering. A rolled-up towel under her arm kept it separated from her body, which helped
to take pressure off the injured rotator cuff. The stitches did burn, and she idly wondered if she’d have new scars. At the
moment, she couldn’t work up a lot of energy to care.
Addie smiled in that special way, then touched her hand to Glory’s uninjured cheek. “If you want to cry, I’ll get a damp washcloth
and keep your tears mopped up so they don’t bother your cuts and scrapes.”
Glory gave a doleful laugh that caused renewed pain to cinch around her chest.
“Sorry,” Addie said, all businesslike now. “Let’s just look at this adorable pup, okay? I think she’s worried about you.”
One look at the dog’s big soulful brown eyes and her heart melted. No matter what came of this whole ordeal, she had this sweet little dog now, and that was something special. “Hey, Peanut Butter. I’m okay.”
The dog’s ears twitched and her skinny tail started swinging.
“Peanut Butter, huh?” Addie grinned. “I like it.”
“I ate lunch with friends at this fancy restaurant, and I kept thinking I would have rather had peanut butter on toast.”
“I love it, too, plus it’s a great name for this one, with her light brown ears and that mask over her eyes.”
“The rest of her could be bread.” She grinned, too. The dog was so pretty with her off-white coat and the splashes of honey-brown.
In a whisper, Glory said, “I’m going to love her so much.”
“I know you will—when you can move. Right now, I don’t want her jumping on you.”
No, she didn’t want that, either. Even lifting her right hand, oh, so slowly, to tickle the dog under her chin, caused her
sharp pain. But it was worth it.
Wanting no misunderstandings, she said to Addie, “You’re amazing with animals.” With people, too. “But I’m keeping her. She
can’t go back home with you because then she’ll love it there and not want to come back.”
After a long look, Addie nodded. Voice soft with understanding, she said, “Thank you, honey. That’s an amazing compliment.”
As Kam reentered the room, she added, “I’m so glad you like it there.”
Addie didn’t see Glory’s surprise because she’d already stepped away, the pup held in her arms. Yes, she supposed it was a
compliment. Glory loved visiting Addie’s home, because it was a home—in a way she’d never experienced before.
Every room held memories, good ones that Kam, Tanner, and Addie loved to share, and some bad ones, too, that they could thankfully laugh about now.
Everywhere Glory looked, there was warmth, even in a framed photo, or a cherished gift—like the wall hanging the boys got Addie for her birthday one year that said: Now I know what home means.
Addie had gotten teary-eyed when telling Glory about it.
Glory had, too.
That sense of warmth was even there in the worn material of an older love seat where Addie used to snuggle up with the boys
on either side of her for movie night. They’d share popcorn, drink milkshakes, and take turns picking the movie for the night.
Addie had told her that on the nights when it was Kam’s turn, he often wanted action movies. Tanner enjoyed horror, and she
would choose comedies.
It was such a wonderful family thing to do.
Glory heard some whispering, then Kam carefully sat beside her. “Callie and Tanner are taking the pup out for a bit. They
want him to be able to get used to your backyard. Addie’s fixing you something to eat.” He touched her cheek. “How do you
feel?”
Selfish, sad, scared . . . and a little excited. She couldn’t, wouldn’t say any of that, though, so she said, “I’m fine.” Seated on the couch, an ice pack on her shoulder,
the probable repercussions making her head swim, she felt . . . completely lost. “I’m fine.”
“If by fine, you mean safe, then yes you are.”
Honestly, she hadn’t thought much in terms of safety, but she probably should. “Did the police talk to you?”
“At the hospital. They stopped by the waiting room with a bunch of questions, but there wasn’t much I could tell them. None
of us know of any specific white cars with tinted windows.”
“They talked to me as soon as the doctor had finished stitching me up.”
His jaw flexed as if he’d clenched his teeth. “Shitty timing on their part.”
“No,” she said. “It was understandable. They wanted to find out if I thought the wreck was deliberate, if I recognized anyone, or if the car was familiar.” She shifted, felt the pain in her ribs, and immediately stilled.
“Thinking back on it, it’s possible I overreacted. Mike has me spooked, I guess.”
Appearing tired and tense, Kam rubbed both hands over his face, then huffed a breath.
So far, he’d been incredibly gentle with her, and she missed his snarky, comedic side, his quick comebacks and wicked teasing.
“Don’t hold back. If you have something to say to me, say it.” She’d welcome a return to normalcy.
He slanted her a look, his brows together, before he shifted to face her. “You didn’t overreact, okay? Get that out of your
head.”
Such an order. It made her smile despite all the complications churning for attention. “Yes, sir.”
“I mean it, Glory. This was Mike. We both know it.” As if gauging her reaction, he said, “I told the cops about him.”
“Good. So did I.” His surprise made her smile widen. “What, you didn’t think I’d mention it? I gave them what information
I could, and they said they’d check up on him. I don’t know if they’ll get back to me or not, but I hope they keep me updated.”
“We’ll check in with them in the morning.”
Addie returned with a bowl and a fork. “I have homemade mac and cheese for you. It wasn’t easy to think of something you could
eat with an injured shoulder and broken ribs. Hot soup was out—I didn’t want to chance you getting burned on top of it. Tomorrow
I’ll bring some other dishes for you.” She handed the bowl to Kam. “Things that will be easy to eat.”
The mention of food made her realize how hungry she’d gotten. “Thank you. It smells delicious.”
Kam lifted a bite to her mouth.
No way did he expect to feed her. “I can—”
The bite went into her mouth. Scowling at him, she had no option but to chew and, oh, heaven, it was good. “Mmm, that’s amazing.”
Beaming, Addie said, “Oh, good, here comes Callie and Tanner with PB.”
Yapping, the dog bounded in, turned a circle, and then tried to jump up on the couch with Glory.
Four people lunged at the poor animal, startling her, and making Glory flinch. Kam got the pup first, holding her close so
she couldn’t wiggle free while he tried to calm her.
PB stared at Glory the whole time, and to her exhausted eyes, she looked loving. Damn it, she’d start bawling if she wasn’t
careful. “She’s okay.”
Kam looked at her like she was nuts. “Babe, listen to me, please. We can’t do this tonight.”
“We?” she asked first, and then, “Do what?”
“The pup needs to go with Addie. I know, okay? We all get it; she’s your dog. But it’s already going to be near impossible
for you to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Trust me on this, okay?”
Stubbornly, feeling desperate even, she insisted, “She’s my dog.”