As those words left him, a sense of finality filled me. It really was over now. “Thank you.” I started to go again.
“Taryn.”
I didn’t look at him, but I paused.
“You two will have to undergo an intense debriefing with myself and other officers. You will tell me what happened up there.”
I half-turned to him. My heart was upstairs, wherever Tray was. “You will get all the information, but what you’re asking about is personal, and it isn’t for me to tell you.” With that said, I left.
Different members of the DEA were in every room. Laptops, printers, fax machines, and other machines were placed on the kitchen table. I knew people were sitting there and working. Others were in the living room. A few were coming down the hallway. All of them paused as they saw me, but I ignored every single one of them. I only had one place and one person I needed to be with. When I got to the master bedroom, the shower was on. I didn’t pause. After locking the door, I went to the bathroom. Tray was inside, a hand braced against the wall, and his head was bent forward. The water was streaming down on him.
He turned, saw me there, and leaned against the far wall of the shower. He was still in his pants and shirt. The water pelted down on him, making his clothes cling to him.
He was beautiful. And I couldn’t move for a moment. God, I loved him.
“What?”
I was damned lucky. Stepping inside, I barely felt the water. He was in my life. Reaching out, I took hold of his shirt and moved closer. Glancing down, my forehead rested against his chest. His hands went to my hips and he pulled me against him. I felt him drop a tender kiss to my neck. My hands fisted around his shirt and I struggled to choke out, “Thank you.”
He swept my hair to the side, cupped the back of my neck, and tilted my chin so I looked up. Our gazes met. He asked, “For what?”
“You never left.”
A corner of his lip lifted in a slight smile. A fierce expression was in his eyes. I couldn’t look away. As his thumb rubbed over my cheek, he said, “I never will.”
“See.” I tapped his chin, grinning. “Lines like that. How did I get you?”
The other side of his mouth lifted into a full grin. His free hand moved down and cupped my bottom. “With this.” He jiggled it, but it didn’t move. “A fine ass is all a guy looks for.” He moved so he could look at it, then he pulled back with that same wolfish grin. “Although yours is too toned. You should stop working out so much.”
Laughing, I pressed a fist to his chest. “It’s all your fault. All those training sessions and nights with the punching bag. I never did throw a knife at someone, you know.”
His eyebrows lifted. “And you’re asking to rectify that? I love you, Taryn, but you’re not throwing one at me.”
I chuckled, but I caught the pain flare up over him again. Lifting a hand up, I cupped the side of his face. His eyes closed. He moved into my palm and a soft sigh left him.
“Sometimes I don’t know what to say.” My hand cupped the other side of his face. I turned his face and his eyes opened again. An inch separated us. “I never knew my parents, but I know loss. I know what it feels like to love someone, become attached to them, and have them ripped from you in a day. It happened to me all the time when I left foster homes. I stopped getting close early on, but there was never any words that helped me. The only thing that helped was someone’s presence.” My finger began moving back and forth again. I wanted him to feel my love. “I don’t know what it’s like to have parents, but I know what it’s like to not have them.” I felt tears on my cheek, but my god, I ignored them. The haunted look in Tray’s eyes pushed all my demons away. Everything was about him now. “The only thing I can think of to say is that I’m sorry. I am. I am so goddamn sorry.” He started to step back, but I held him firm. “I will never leave. I won’t. I promise.”
He glanced down, while I held his face and then his lips touched the top of my head. His arms moved so he was holding me tight. He bent over me and his lips grazed the top of my shoulder. He murmured against my skin, “I’m trying to tell myself that I shouldn’t care. I knew I was never going to see him again, but man, hearing it spoken like that. It’s final. He’s dead and I’m supposed to be too. I hate Jace, but I’m grateful to him at the same time. I hate feeling both of those things. Not about that guy, not with everything he’s done.”
My hand lifted to cradle the back of his head and I rested mine against his. “You can feel however you want to feel. Being grateful that you’re alive is never wrong to feel.”