Imperfect (Triple Canopy #3) - Riley Edwards Page 0,75

all the way around.

“Shiloh, baby, even if you’d known the particulars it wouldn’t have changed the outcome.”

“All she did was go to work. Family business. A minimart. She worked there after school when she wasn’t playing sports, and on Saturdays. No Sundays, that was her day off to spend with her friends. She was smart. Straight A’s. Her friends loved her.”

Something was seriously wrong with Shiloh knowing Penelope’s work schedule.

“How do you know that?”

“He told me in his first letter. He sent me her report cards. Copies of condolence letters he’d received from her teachers, coaches, friends, neighbors. Everyone loved her.”

That wasn’t wrong—it was jacked-the-fucked-up.

“Shiloh, baby.”

“Simon Abbot looked right at me. Right in the eye, Luke. And pulled the trigger.”

Shiloh’s body jolted and her face pressed deeper.

From head to toe, Shiloh trembled in my arms.

I said nothing.

Not because I had nothing to say, but right then with my woman shaking on my lap she was not ready to hear what I had to say. She wasn’t ready to hear the truth. Simon Abbot killed Penelope Hutchinson and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could’ve done to stop him. And Clive Hutchinson’s pain was not Shiloh’s to bear and his fucked-up letters would be stopping.

But right then, I wasn’t worried about Clive, Simon, or Penelope.

A person could only stand so much heartache.

And Shiloh Kent had been through enough.

Too fucking much.

In the silence, I thought about her nightmares. She hadn’t had any since she’d been in my bed or I’d been in hers. But there had been times in the last two weeks when Shiloh had been called out in the middle of the night and by the time she got home I was gone. Which meant she’d slept without me. She had not mentioned if she had them then.

I thought the dreams were going away because she’d opened up to Gordy and the rest of the guys on her team. Shiloh was forthcoming about the conversations she had with the guys. They treated her no differently than they always had; there was just a layer of closeness Shiloh hadn’t allowed in the past.

“You get nightmares when you get a letter.”

Shiloh nodded into my throat even though I hadn’t asked her a question.

“You know it’s gonna happen. You know what the letter’s gonna say but you open them anyway knowing they’re gonna give you nightmares. You do it to keep the pain fresh because you think you deserve it.”

Again Shiloh nodded and a burn hit my chest.

“You’re doing it to torture yourself.”

She made a low, guttural, keeling sound and that burn slithered up into my throat. I felt the noises Shiloh made vibrating against my chest but I was wholly unprepared for the sob that tore from her. I flinched at the sound, jerked in surprise, and held on tighter when her body shuddered.

That burn that had ignited seared through me as pain leaked out of Shiloh. It streamed down her cheeks, it leaked from her pores, it filled the room until I couldn’t breathe through the thick clouds of agony.

Body-wrenching.

Breath-stealing.

Excruciating cries of pain.

And I was powerless to stop it. There was nothing I could do but hold on. So that was what I did until my arms ached from clutching her close, then I held on longer until she cried herself to sleep. I waited a good long while until I carried her to bed and tucked her in.

Then I went back to the kitchen to turn off the oven and put the dinner Shiloh had made into the fridge. I turned off the lights, locked the front door, and got into bed next to my woman.

I felt the moment Shiloh woke.

It was nearing on midnight.

I’d lain awake for hours listening to her breathe coming up with a plan. My first instinct was to run roughshod over Shiloh and take matters into my hands. I figured it would take a five-minute conversation with Echo and he’d shut Clive Hutchinson down. The problem with that was Echo would likely cause bodily harm while communicating to Hutchinson the letters were to cease. Not only would that put Echo’s ass on the line but Shiloh would be worried about her brother. Gordy was an option. I doubted he’d take it to a physical level but the way he cared about Shiloh he might. Which again meant Shiloh would be unhappy. I considered them because I knew better than to seek out Hutchinson personally; there was no doubt I’d rip the man apart. And it

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