Page 107 of Monk

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I love you too,” she whispered.

I kissed her then, slow and deep and reverent.

Tasting her.

Claiming her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Lina

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the weight of John’s arm draped across my waist.

Heavy. Possessive. Anchoring me to the bed. The second thing I noticed was the warm sunlight filtering through the curtains, and I moaned. Looking over at the clock on my nightstand, I noticed the time, then groaned.

I turned my head carefully, not wanting to wake him. He was still asleep, his face relaxed in a way I rarely saw when he was awake. The hard lines around his mouth had softened. His breathing was deep and even, as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He looked younger like this. Vulnerable. Almost peaceful.

I wanted to stay. Wanted to curl back into his warmth and pretend the world outside this bed didn’t exist. But I couldn’t. I had work to do.

Carefully, I slid out from under his arm, holding my breath as I eased myself to the edge of the mattress. The bed creaked softly, and I froze, my eyes darting back to John’s face.

He didn’t stir.

I exhaled slowly and stood, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. My clothes were scattered across the room. Evidence of our last few hours of desperation. I gathered them quietly, pulling on my jeans and buttoning my shirt with trembling fingers. My body ached in places I had forgotten couldache. My thighs were sore. My hips were bruised from his grip. My lips were swollen from his kisses, and God help me, I could still feel him inside me. Still felt the way he claimed me, over and over, like he was trying to brand himself into my skin.

I shook my head, forcing the memories away as I grabbed my laptop from the dresser and slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

The hallway was quiet. Tatum’s door was open—no doubt at school, and my father was more than likely already at his physical therapy appointment in town.

The house was empty. Just me and the silence.

I made my way downstairs, the old wooden steps creaking under my weight. The farmhouse smelled like coffee and something faintly floral from the wildflowers Tatum had picked yesterday and left in a jar on the kitchen counter. The kitchen was bathed in muted light, the kind that made everything softer, gentler.

I set my laptop on the kitchen table and went to pour myself a cup of coffee. Black. Strong. The way I had learned to drink it during late nights in law school when sleep was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I took a sip, letting the heat and bitterness ground me, then sat down at the table and opened my laptop as the screen glowed to life, casting a pale blue light across my face.

I stared at the blank document for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Then I started typing.

Case: Oklahoma v. John Smith

Charge: Sexual Assault / Rape

Alleged Victim: Ruby Cooper

Evidence:

Victim’s statement to Chief Sean Curran O’Rourke

Rape kit completed at Comanche County Hospital