Resonance of Stars (Greenstone Security #5) - Anne Malcom Page 0,82

I hadn’t been broken yet and he was trying to talk with his body, let me know I didn’t need to be afraid.

I didn’t move, just let him settle in front of me, let him pull my towel off me. It pooled to the ground. He sucked in a harsh breath and it did something to me. It still did something to me, through these horrible feelings. My need for him cut through the deepest grief I’d known in my adult life. I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t want to know what that meant.

So instead, I pulled him by the neck so his lips pressed into mine. I let him break me.

It was raining. Pouring.

I should’ve loved this, that the weather matched my mood, that it was a reasonable excuse not to go and ride or help out with any of the jobs on the ranch.

I fucking hated it.

I wanted it to be like every other day. I wanted something to be the same so I could pretend that yesterday didn’t happen, so I could pretend that Andre was still somewhere in LA.

But life didn’t work that way. So instead I sat in front of the French doors in the bedroom drinking whisky and staring at the rain.

Duke hadn’t wanted to leave me. I was hurting. I was threatened. I was angry. Andre hadn’t known where I was…yet Kitsch had still fucking killed him. Why didn’t he just kill me the same night he ended Salvador’s life? So, yeah, I was seething. Guilty. But I’d urged him to talk to his family, help with whatever tasks needed help with. I knew life on the ranch didn’t stop because of rain. The only thing that changed was that you got wet.

He’d left with a kiss on my forehead and a promise he’d come back.

He must’ve said something to his family about coming over here since I’d been alone since he’d left. Just how I wanted it. I hated that Duke knew me well enough to know that’s what I wanted. Most people, especially overprotective alpha males, would make sure that the grieving woman wasn’t alone, was getting taken care of, clucked over. But without me having to say anything, Duke knew that was the last thing I needed.

I’d wandered around the cabin looking at photos, exploring in a way I hadn’t been able to do since we’d moved in here. I made sure to collect the images, burn them into my memory so I could revisit this place in my dreams. Thoughts of Andre were carefully shoved to the side. When it became too hard to avoid them, I’d started with the whisky.

I didn’t know how long ago that was. Not long. I wasn’t drunk, even though I’d had a lot on an empty stomach. Life wasn’t kind that way. I wished for oblivion, for a blurring of the edges. But everything was in stark detail. The images in my mind were too realistic. How had he killed him? A basic bullet to the forehead, his brains splaying out all over the floor? Or had Kitsch tortured him trying to get information he didn’t have?

I had a hard time distinguishing the fact that this was real. I hadn’t spoken with him in weeks. And I wasn’t speaking to him now. He could be alive now. They could’ve made a mistake.

But no. Duke would never have me hurt in this way unless he was certain. He would never make a mistake like this.

“Baby?”

I blinked.

The man in question was standing in front of me, and the way he spoke my name suggested he’d been standing here the entire time.

He was holding something. A plate of food.

“You need to eat something.”

I could’ve argued with him. It would’ve been something in character for me. Stubborn. Surly. Didn’t like being told what to do.

That person seemed so far away.

I reached out and took the plate and the silverware.

Duke sat down across from me. He was watching me. I didn’t take much notice, didn’t taste the food that I was putting in my body to simply placate him. It could’ve been delicious. It most likely was. But all I tasted was ash.

I was surprised when the plate was empty, when Duke took it to set on the small table between the chairs.

He’d refilled my whisky and poured one for himself. I was thankful for that.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask me if I was “okay” or anything vapid like that. Didn’t touch me either. I