Dawn (Dangerous Web #3) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,41

tips of his lips curled upward. “Sweetheart, if you’re made of glass, it’s bullet-proof. I know you’re not fragile. It’s not a question of your capability. I want to be with you, not because you need me to be there, but because I want to be there if only to applaud your continued strength.”

“It’s not that I don’t need you, Reid. Don’t ever think that, but more importantly, I want you.” A memory from long ago returned. “I remember my grandma saying that when I find that person, I should decide if I need him because I want him or I want him because I need him.”

“Is there a right answer, according to the wisdom of your grandmother?”

I nodded. “A.”

Reid’s eyes narrowed. “Need because you want.”

“That’s what she said. What she didn’t say was that she didn’t believe her own daughter lived under that principle. Our mother wanted men because she needed what they could and would give her. Whether that was money, sex, drugs, alcohol, or a roof over her head. She needed them to supply her needs.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I want to supply your needs.”

“You do that, but more importantly, you’ve shown me that I’m capable, and while I know I’m capable, I most importantly want you.”

I wiggled to sit up and as I did, my hands skirted over Reid’s torso. My eyes opened wide. “Your bandages are gone.”

“I took them off.”

“Was it time? Did you see Dr. Dixon?”

“I decided it was time.”

My thoughts filled with the good doctor’s response to this, yet at the moment, there were other unspoken concerns swirling in the air around us. Together, we moved so that we were both facing the fire. Reid’s arm encircled my shoulder as I leaned against his side and curled my legs on the sofa to my side.

“Tell me what you remember,” he said.

“I recall the conversation with Nancy vividly.” I turned to Reid as my smile grew. “Laurel isn’t sure, but she thinks it could be the venom from the ant bites that interfered with the drug that I was given. That’s why I could recall the scene with Nancy.” I stretched out one of my legs over Reid’s lap. Wearing a nightshirt, my legs were bare. The multitude of bites had begun to heal. They no longer itched or were angry and pus filled. Instead, my legs were peppered with smooth red dots. “My mind knew it was impossible to rationalize a conversation with someone I hadn’t seen in almost twenty years. I told myself it was a dream, not a memory.”

Reid’s attention went to my leg. His large hand gently grasped my ankle, slowly running his touch up my leg and moving upward until he reached the hem of the nightshirt. Before he could go higher, I stopped him. “You’re not ready to do what that will lead to, and I want to tell you what I remember.”

His lips came to my forehead. “I’m always ready to fuck my wife.”

Tilting my chin upward, our lips met in a soft kiss of comfort and understanding. Passion, such as the fire burning across the room, waited like a burning ember, present yet biding its time as we faced the current issues at hand.

“But I can wait,” he said. “Go on.”

“I don’t recall being on the ranch. It’s odd. I can picture us on Sparrow’s plane headed there, but then my next recollection is in the cell.” Reid’s eyes opened wide. “Patrick said you saw the pictures of the bunker.”

“I did.”

“I remember that room. I remember lights and a loud alarm-like sound. I can’t remember being in there with Araneae, but she now remembers being in there with me.” I shook my head. “It’s hard to explain. Think of that timeline much like a recorded television show. Somehow, I’m rewinding and watching the end before the beginning.”

“Do you remember any people besides your mother?” Reid asked.

“The dark-haired man. He was tall and...” I had practiced this part over and over in my head. It wasn’t that I couldn’t say it. My concern was more for the man listening and holding me at this moment.

“And?”

“I think he tried to attack me. I think he was going to rape me. I remember fighting with all my might. I kicked. He hit me. I remember he pulled down my pants.” I turned to see my husband’s stoic expression. Sitting taller, I moved to my knees on the sofa, so my nose met Reid’s. “I’m all right, Reid. I remember fighting. He

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