Page 100 of Shattered King

“That was Jude. He’s been tracking something. He’s located it, but needs back up.”

I shoved my hair back from my face and shot up into a sitting position. “Why do you need a gun?”

He was pulling on a jacket and paused at my words.

“Babe.” He came toward me. “You know why.”

I did. All too well.

“It’s just a precaution. There’s nothing to worry about.”

If there was nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t be wearing a gun. “Is this a retrieval, this job?”

“Lulu . . .”

“So you’re going to break into some criminal’s place and steal whatever it is back?”

That muscle in his jaw jumped. “Yes,” he said, not sugarcoating it.

I sat up fully. He’d told me some of what he did, but we’d never gone into great detail. I had my suspicions. I knew it was dangerous, knew he skimmed the line where the law was concerned, and I’d tried not to dwell on it, to not let it get to me. But now, again faced with it, there was no hiding from the truth. It was in front of me sticking out of the waistband of his jeans. “That must make you a lot of enemies,” I said, mouth so dry I had trouble swallowing.

He came around to my side of the bed, planted one hand in the mattress, and leaned in. “I told you, you have nothing to worry about.”

I didn’t miss that he hadn’t answered my question.

“I don’t want you to go.” I hated myself for saying it for being so damn needy, but I had a bad feeling.

He cupped my jaw in his hand and slid his thumb up to my ear and back. “This is my job, Lulu. I’m trying to be honest with you here, about what I do. You need to find a way of dealing with it.”

My hand went to his abs and I gripped his shirt, scowling up at him. “Is that right?”

He cursed. “We’ll talk more when I get home.”

I fisted the fabric tighter, didn’t want to let him go. “Hang on a minute . . .”

“Gotta go, babe.”

Shit. “Right.”

His fingers threaded through my hair, and he fisted it, tilted my head back, and kissed me. It wasn’t a goodbye kiss; it was a “we’ll-finish-this-later” kiss. Hard and deep and wet with lots of tongue. Then he pulled back and I was forced to let him go.

He shoved on his boots, then moved back, dragged the covers down, kissed my bare hip then pulled them back up, tucking them around me.

And walked out the door.

I heard the beep of the alarm then the front door close behind him.

Goddammit.

I lay there for a few minutes before I pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed. Slipping on Hunter’s shirt, I buttoned it up and rolled back the sleeves. No way would I get back to sleep now, not with the way my belly churned, the way my heart pounded. I’d had more nights than I could remember feeling like this, curled up in whatever shitty apartment Josh and I were living in, afraid the door would be busted in at any moment, that Pierce would find us.

God, I didn’t want to feel this way anymore. Scared out of my mind, afraid for the ones I loved.

I dragged the comforter off the bed, and padded to Josh’s room to check on him. He was fast asleep, thumb in his mouth. Going by the small smile on his lips, he was dreaming good things. I brushed his hair back from his face and kissed his soft, warm cheek. That’s all I wanted for my son, to have good dreams. No more nightmares. Real or imagined.

I left him sleeping, and headed down the hall. Light from the street filtered into the living room, washing the whole place in a multi colored glow. I flicked on the TV, slumped onto the couch, and dragged the comforter over me. Catfish reruns were on, so I settled back to watch. Anything to keep my mind off what Hunter might be doing at that moment.

Is this what my life would be from now on? Sitting in the dark, waiting for him to come home, hoping like hell that when he did, he’d still be in one piece?