She thought their marriage would last forever. That she could count on him to be her partner. She was wrong.
Six months ago, Stacey kicked her lying husband out of their bed. They made promises to each other. Promises that didn’t include lonely nights and lonelier days missing the man who slept on the couch. Something had to give. She knew that as sure as she knew her former client’s death was murder.
Wray’s nights under the same roof as his wife and sons were numbered. Every time he left, he wondered if she’d change the locks while he was at the fire station. He couldn’t change the past, but he hoped they still had a shot at a future. Until she tells him it’s over.
Making a rash decision when she’s emotional is a bad idea, but Stacey never expects it will put her family at risk. Keeping Wray home is the best way to protect their sons, even though he threatens her heart. As for the man who threatens her life, he’ll get exactly what he deserves.
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Excerpt from Fury
Wray ran into the emergency department and went straight for the desk. He asked for Stacey and impatiently tapped his fingers on the counter that separated him from the person who was taking their sweet ass time figuring out where his wife was.
Finally, the woman looked up at him and said, “Bed nine.”
“Thanks,” Wray said, already turning and heading toward Stacey. The woman called after him, but Wray was not going to wait to be escorted. Not when he knew his way around the emergency department and needed to get to his wife.
Stacey was on a gurney with her eyes closed. Wray stepped to the side of the bed and looked her over. Bruising had already started on her face from the airbag. Her nose had a stere-strip over it, but it didn’t look broken. She had another cut on her lip and a bruise on her forehead. Her clothes were spotted with blood, and her left ring-finger was wrapped up.
“It looks worse than it is,” Stacey said softly.
“You’re awake.” Wray wanted to hold her tight and never let her go. She got hurt, and he wasn’t there. It killed him to hear her voice on the phone and not be there with her. To worry that something worse than a few scrapes and bruises had marred her perfect body.
“I was just resting my eyes.”
“Do you have a concussion?” Wray asked, staring at her eyes and studying them for dilation and focus. His medical training was better than most being a firefighter, but he only did quick assessments. Long-term care was not his wheelhouse.
“Probably, but minor, they think. I have to stay here for a few hours.”
“Are they admitting you?”
“Then you can go home.”
“They want to observe me.”
“I can observe you. I’ll talk to the doctor.”
Her tone stopped him before he made it out of the curtained area. She didn’t want him to look after her. She’d rather stay in the hospital with strangers.
“I see,” he said.
“You see what?”
“You don’t want me to observe you.”
She waited until he lifted his gaze to hers. “I was going to say thank you.”
His brows tugged together. “You were?”
She nodded. “Yes. I don’t like hospitals. You know that. I’d rather be home.”
“Then I’ll make it happen. I’ll be right back.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He smiled at her, overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her. He took a step toward her and stopped. He didn’t have the right to kiss her, but he couldn’t stop himself. He shook his head and crossed the room to her side. He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
She hugged him back and nodded. “Me, too.”
He stayed there another long minute, hating that his wife had to be hurt for him to touch her again, and hating himself for being grateful he could. He didn’t want to let go, but he needed to get her out of there.
“I’ll be back in a sec.”
Stacey nodded, and Wray forced himself to walk out. He was putting her first, and that meant getting her the hell out of there. Now.