Page 29 of Dane

I suppose, given I managed to score medium security, Terre Haute wasn’t as bad for me as it was for some of the guys. I’d been in what they call the camp. As long as I didn’t cause trouble, that’s where they left me. I had more privileges there than I would have had in maximum security. But I still sometimes had nightmares about the place. Especially the first couple years in maximum security. ‘Cause, you know, bank robbery and everything.

What I didn’t know was whether she knew how close I’d been to her during my incarceration. “Did you know I was housed at that camp in Terre Haute?”

She didn’t look up, going to the sink to load the dishwasher. “Yeah,” she said. “I knew.”

I sucked in a breath. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” I barely got the words out past the pain in my chest. “You knew?”

“Yeah. I know you did your time at the prison in Terre Haute.” She continued with the dishes, though it didn’t take long. Her hands shook, making the glasses rattle when she put them in the top rack.

My chest gave a painful squeeze. “How long have you known that?”

She looked at me then. Her eyes were wet and wide, haunted with ghosts from our shared past. “Since the trial. The facility was in the court documents. I lived in Honey Creek Township. It’s… it’s four miles from my front door, Mághnus. I drove past it twice a day. Two days a week. Going to see my grandmother.”

I stood up from the counter. My hands tingled, and I opened and closed my fists. “Were you afraid? To not know where I was? Is that why you kept tabs on me?”

“No, Dane,” she said, her voice thin. “I looked up the visitation procedure online. Printed the form. Had it on my kitchen table for a week.” She swallowed. “I never filled it out, but I did find out how to put money in your account. For the commissary.”

She was the one… the money…

The kitchen suddenly felt too small. Too warm. The woman across from me had… what? Kept tabs on me? Stalked me? Why would she want to visit me? I’d known I was wrong about her. I wouldn’t be sharing my life with her the way I was now if I thought she’d done anything out of malice or for spite. But this was the moment I realized exactly how off the mark I’d been about Brielle.

I walked out of the room. I knew I needed to say something to her, to let her know everything was OK, and I wasn’t mad at her. But I couldn’t focus on anything other than getting out of the apartment before I puked everywhere. The woman had fucking put money in my fucking prison commissary account.

Opening the door to the balcony, cold hit me like a wall. The courtyard was empty, camo netting shifting overhead, the moon cutting through in broken pieces. I braced my hands on the railing and let the cold work its way through my body.

For twelve years, I’d told myself a story. The world set me down and forgot me. The people who put me there moved on. The girl who testified walked out of that courtroom and never looked back. That was the story, and I was comfortable with that narrative. Turned out I got at least part of the story wrong. Like, really fucking wrong.

I stood out there until my fingers went numb and my breath came in clouds as the cold of the late autumn air did its work. Long enough for her to decide she’d said the thing that ended our time together. I knew I needed to go back inside, but I needed to get my head in the right space before I went to her. What the hell did I say to Brielle after this?

When I came back inside, she was standing at the sink. Her shoulders were hunched, her head down, and I thought I heard her sniff. I’d feel bad about that later, but I had to get this out before I dealt with the immediate aftermath. She didn’t turn when the door closed.

“For twelve years,” I said, “I believed most of the world set me down and forgot me. Every person, every day. That was the story I told myself. Made it easier to do the time.” I moved into the kitchen. She still didn’t turn. “Turns out, maybe there was one person who never stopped thinking about me.”

I watched her back, the tension in her shoulders, the way her head dipped like she was carrying something too heavy. Then she turned, wiping tears from her eyes, and she moved around the kitchen island to me.

She didn’t stop until she was close enough for me to feel the heat coming off her skin, her warmth seeping into me to slowly push out the cold. She put her hands on my chest. Her eyes were wet and clear and she looked right into my soul. “Mághnus,” she said.

I cupped her face in my hands. I didn’t kiss her, but continued to look at her, needing her to see the depth of my feelings, how much what she’d done meant to me. I understood why she hadn’t visited and was glad she hadn’t. I can’t even begin to imagine what I’d have said to her.

She leaned into my touch. Her eyes closed. A breath escaped her, shaky and relieved, and then her forehead was against my chest and her arms were around my waist, and she held on like she was afraid I might disappear.

I wrapped my arms around her. One hand at the small of her back, the other in her hair. She fit against me like she was made especially for me. I felt her heartbeat against my ribs, steady and sure.

We stood like that for a long time before she tipped her head back. Her gaze found mine in the dim light. “Mághnus,” she said again, softer this time. “Will you kiss me?”

All I could manage was a husky grunt, but I kissed her. I took her mouth slowly and carefully, not wanting to overwhelm her with my needs when she needed reassurance. Her lips parted and she sighed, surrendering to my lead as she fisted her hands in my shirt.

I walked her backward until her hips hit the counter. My hands found her waist as her arms went around my neck. We kissed, and it felt like each of us had laid ourselves bare to the other. She whispered my name like a prayer over and over against my lips.

I lifted her with one arm around her waist and she instinctively wrapped her legs around mine. She let out a startled laugh that warmed the rest of the night’s chill from my body. I carried her to the bed and laid her down.

This time, we made love. I did my best to worship her body, to make up for every mean thing I thought about her or said to her. This woman deserved every good thing I could give her. Most especially, I needed her to know how much her actions meant to me. Not for any money she sent, though I’d have to do something about that later. But because she’d been trying to do what she could to make up for what she saw was a wrong she’d committed against me. Then, when she had nothing left to lose, she’d come here. To Nashville. To me.

I made her come twice before I finally joined her. She clung to me when I tried to separate from her to clean us, whimpering until I settled back on top of her. Rolling us over, I pulled her more solidly against me until she stilled.

As she drifted off, she still clung to me. I knew there were some big feelings there because I had some of my own. One thing I knew for sure, though, was I’d never let Brielle go. I’d do whatever it took to keep her with me, at my side.

Her breathing evened out and her body relaxed against mine. I looked down. Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful in a way I hadn’t seen before. I adjusted the blanket over her shoulders and held her tighter.