She nodded jerkily.
“I feel like I never want to let you out of my sight again. Not for any damn reason. I think every time I close my eyes for a long fucking time all I’m going to see is the sight of you with a gun to your head. I think I’m going to hear Thompson’s voice in my head, talking about how he wants to carve you up, until I can finally clear it away and fill my mind with other memories. I think you have to be the bravest and smartest woman in the world to have kept him talking for so long, and manage to get your two friends out of that room.” He paused for a moment. “And I think I’m the luckiest bastard in the world to actually be holding you in my arms right now.”
“I’m not that brave,” Sarah whispered in a rush. “I was scared. I was afraid for Emily and Randi, petrified that I’d brought them into the situation and I was going to get them killed. Then, once they were out, I was hoping I didn’t literally get sick and vomit just from the thought of him touching me. All of that fear was there, Dante. I just couldn’t let it out. He wanted me to be frightened, and I couldn’t let him see it. When I saw you get hurt, my fear turned into rage, and I wanted to hurt him somehow. That’s why I kneed him in the balls. I didn’t want him to get away. I was glad you shot him. I was relieved that he was dead. If I had had a gun, I would have done it myself. After that, I was in a panic that you were injured, so afraid that you wouldn’t be okay.” She started to cry, her voice tearful. “So I’m not very brave at all. I was scared, so very scared the entire time,” she cried in a distressed voice, the dam breaking as she sobbed into his chest, her arm clutching him even tighter.
Dante wrapped both of his arms around her shuddering body, rocking her as she cried, the sound of her fear and pain nearly splitting his heart in half. He’d never seen her sob like this, and if he never heard it again, it would be too soon. But she needed this, she needed to let everything out, and his heart swelled because she was doing it with him. “I know, baby. I know. I was scared, too. I was afraid he’d hurt you,” he said soothingly, running his hands over her hair and back, holding her until the storm of tears had finally ceased. Finally, he said, “You’re here in the hospital. Christ! I forgot how you react to hospitals.” Dante was angry at himself. He’d been so wrapped up in everything else that he’d forgotten about her panic attacks.
“I’m okay. I was so worried about you I didn’t think about it. And then, it didn’t seem to matter. I actually feel comfortable being back. I missed it. I guess I just needed to get myself back through the doors. Or maybe it’s because my attacker is dead. Either way, I’m doing good.”
Dante breathed a sigh of relief. “Jesus. You really have been through hell, sweetheart.” No matter how much she denied it, she was the bravest woman he’d ever know. And she was his.
“I can’t believe he was really the Windy City Carver.” She sniffed wearily.
Dante couldn’t believe it either. “Even in Los Angeles, law enforcement talked about that case.”
“The media is everywhere. You’re a hero,” Sarah sighed.
“I don’t want to be a hero. I just wanted you alive. But I’m glad he’s dead. The women he killed needed some kind of justice. It used to bug the hell out of every homicide detective in the country that he wasn’t caught and didn’t pay for those murders,” Dante told her thoughtfully. “I hope the media doesn’t become a pain in the ass.” He’d worked a lot of high-profile cases, and dealing with the media wasn’t exactly one of his favorite parts of his job.
“They’re all about to be scooped,” Sarah told him, her voice slightly amused. “Elsie is breaking the story in the morning. I’m sure it will all die down.”
Dante chuckled, the thought of the curious elderly woman finally getting her big news article amusing him. “Your idea?” It was actually brilliant. If Elsie scooped the story, the media would die down.
Sarah shrugged. “It’s big news. Elsie will be talking about it forever. I’m sure it will go syndicated.”
“Media or not, I’m going home in the morning,” Dante grumbled.
“You’ll go home when Dr. Samuels says you can go home,” Sarah retorted sharply.
“Bossy woman,” Dante replied grumpily.
Sarah lifted her head to look at him. “I can actually go back to my cottage now. I didn’t think about that.”
“No. Not yet.” Dante couldn’t stand the thought of Sarah not being with him, and he tightened his grip around her reflexively. Hell, he was even getting fond of her pathetic little dog. “Coco?” He hated the thought that the dog might be at his house with no food and no way to get outside.
“She’s with Emily. No doubt she’s spoiling her with human food as badly as you do.”
“Stay with me for a while,” Dante demanded. It was going to take him a long damn time to reassure himself that she was okay.
“I have to go home eventually.”
No, you don’t.
Dante had a hard time keeping that thought to himself. As far as he was concerned, she belonged with him. He stayed mute but was determined she wasn’t going anywhere. She needed to be someplace safe, somewhere that she could get over the trauma that she’d been through. And that place was with him. “Not now,” he settled for saying. They hadn’t talked about the future because they’d been too busy trying to survive in the present. But they would be talking about it. Soon. There was no way he was going to live without her.