She stirred herself, made a small scoffing sound. “Kyle? His father is probably in touch with every judge and lawyer he knows right now, trying to make it go away.”
“I’m fairly certain that won’t happen this time.” He didn’t say any more, but she wasn’t stupid, and she definitely remembered his expression—as well as the fifteen minutes when he’d had “something to do.” She could see an echo of that expression on his face now, in the iciness of his eyes. She was fairly certain that if Kyle did plead guilty, it would be because he was afraid not to. She was good with that, and she didn’t intend to ask any questions.
Now that they were alone, she could feel the fatigue setting in, coming at her fast and heavy. The draining emotional upheaval left her as empty as if she’d run a marathon. Sliding over, she let her head rest against Tricks’s side for the comfort of being close to her.
“I know she’s a dog,” she murmured, not knowing if Morgan could hear her but not caring because she needed to say it anyway. “But I love her.” She didn’t add any qualifiers such as like a child because love was love and didn’t need measuring.
His gaze flicked to the mirror again. “I know,” he said quietly.
Finally, finally, they were home. Tricks bounded out, her energy restored; Bo climbed out as if she hurt in every bone of her body, which she kind of did, but mostly she was so tired she could barely move. Morgan checked the sky, said, “There’s enough daylight left for me to take her for a walk. You go inside and put your feet up, eat one of those burgers. I’ll eat when we get back.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said, unable to bear the thought just yet of letting Tricks out of her sight. She’d let Daina take her because she knew that was best for Tricks, but that was the only reason, and she’d been on edge every minute Tricks was out of her sight.
He seemed to get that because he gave a brief nod and held out his left hand to her. She didn’t know if he meant for her to take it or if it was a “come on” gesture, but she seized it and held on tight. “Thank you.” She should have said it sooner, would have if she’d been able to gather her thoughts. She was trying so hard to function and not give in to the terror that still roiled deep inside her that function itself was getting shortchanged. “It was lucky—more than lucky—you were there.”
He squeezed her hand, then laced their fingers together so their hands were palm to palm. The touch of him, the strength she could feel in his hand, held her steady when she was feeling increasingly fragile, as if she might shatter into a thousand shards.
“It wasn’t luck,” he said briefly as they strolled across the yard to the trail she and Tricks had worn in the earth. “I’d already spotted him.” Bo was watching Tricks dance along the trail as enthusiastically as if she hadn’t gone that same route multiple times a day for most of her life, but at Morgan’s statement she glanced questioningly up at him.
“I didn’t know who he was,” he explained, “but he was wearing a jacket and that made me suspicious. When he moved, I followed.”
“What’s suspicious about a jacket?” Then it hit her, and she said, “Oh.” Why would anyone wear a jacket on such a warm day unless they were hiding whatever was under the jacket? She wouldn’t have noticed that, at least not at first.
Those few awful moments flashed in front of her, as vivid as if they were happening again. She saw the hate in Kyle’s eyes, the sheer viciousness, and the sick enjoyment of what he intended to do. “He was aiming straight at Tricks,” she said in a low tone and swallowed with difficulty because her throat immediately tightened at the memory.
“I thought he was. He could have been aiming at you, given that you were directly behind her, but I was fairly sure she was his target.”
“I knew I couldn’t get there in time.” Her voice had tightened to a thin thread of sound. “But you did.”
“Hey.” He squeezed her hand again, which brought her stricken gaze up to his. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to either of you.”
But it could have. Who else but Morgan would have noticed something odd in someone wearing a jacket? His training, his level of expertise in taking people down, had put in him a unique position to stop Kyle, but what about when he was gone? She couldn’t think about that now, she simply couldn’t.
“I don’t understand it. Why hurt her? She’s so innocent—” Her voice broke.
“He blames you for making him give Emily everything she wanted in the divorce.”
“Me?” Indignation saved her, gave her back some control. She stopped in her tracks to stare at him in astonishment.
“His reasoning—or lack of it—is that everyone was so angry at him because he punched you, and he wouldn’t have punched you if you hadn’t jumped him. Ergo, it’s all your fault.”
She had nothing to say to that, too stunned by that monumental lack of logic to even try to get her mind around it. Silence was good, requiring no effort. Pretty much the only things keeping her going were watching Tricks go about her routine untouched by the day’s happenings, and the feel of Morgan’s hot palm pressed against hers. Tricks did her business and they turned around, retracing the path through the purpling twilight.
Their hamburgers were cold, but she nuked them just enough to get them warm, while Morgan opened a Naked Pig for each of them. If it hadn’t been for the beer helping the food to go down, she never would have been able to swallow. When Tricks was fed and they were fed, the day crashed down on her. She let Morgan handle what cleanup there was and dragged herself upstairs, made herself shower. Afterward, she went to the balcony rail and called down to Morgan that she was going to bed.