Page 128 of The Lucky Heart (Jamison Valley 3)
Paxon’s hand ran gently down my back. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Felicity. The gunshots . . . I just got spooked.”
After a few minutes, I got my oxygen back and pushed myself up to rest on my knees. “It’s okay.” I was still panting. “I’m okay.”
“Fuck. No, it’s not. I’m so sorry.” He ran his hands through his black hair. “Silas is going to beat my ass for this.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now.” I pushed up from the ground. The back of my white, silk blouse was covered in grass stains and the knees of my new jeans were streaked with dirt. “I think we should call it a day, get back to someplace a little quieter. We can come back here a different day when there isn’t as much activity in the cemetery.”
Paxon’s eyes were full of regret. “I’m so sorry.”
A tear hung from one of his dark lashes and my heart broke. He wouldn’t hurt me intentionally. He’d actually been trying to protect me, except there just wasn’t anything to protect me from.
“Paxon, don’t beat yourself up about this. Okay? I’m fine.”
His hand came up and rubbed the scar on his face, something he seemed to do whenever he was stressed or anxious.
“Okay?” I repeated. He didn’t answer. “Paxon. Look at me.”
His sad eyes found mine.
“I’m okay.”
His shoulders fell and he nodded.
“Come on. Let’s go.” I hustled to lock up the house while he walked to the car. When I joined him inside, I tried to lighten the somber mood. “I’m going to have to increase my rate from five percent to ten to cover the emotional damage of that showing.”
His frame slumped even further into the seat.
“I’m kidding,” I said. “Bad joke. I’ll only bump it to seven.”
A relieved smile spread on his face. Today wasn’t the right time, but soon, I was going to suggest he start seeing someone. It was time for Paxon to get some professional help before something else triggered a flashback and it ended much worse.
“Would you care if we swung by my house so I could grab a clean shirt?”
“No, go ahead.”
We drove the two minutes to my house and parked in the driveway. The neighbors must have been hosting a party because there was a strange truck parked in front.
“Paxon.” I touched his arm before he could open the door. “I really am okay.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Felicity. I really am sorry.”
“No more apologies. Let’s go inside and I’ll introduce you to Khloe.” We got out and walked toward the house. I hoped that Khloe had been baking today so Paxon could have one of her treats. She was keeping me and Silas in desserts, sending me to the store daily for ingredients. My house was the cleanest it had probably ever been and smelled like a bakery.
I was just glad that she was still livid with Derrick and was planning on taking him to the cleaners in the divorce.
“Khloe makes these amazing éclairs. They’ll cheer you right up,” I told Paxon, opening the door to my house.
The smile on my face fell when I saw Khloe press
ed up against the kitchen wall. Her legs were dangling a foot off the floor and her fingers were clawing at Derrick’s hands wrapped around her throat.
“Khloe!” I screamed and ran toward her but didn’t get more than five feet inside when a big arm banded around my waist and hauled me backward. “Pax!” I shouted. “Get to Khloe!” I thrashed and kicked at my attacker as Paxon roared behind me. Why wasn’t he going after Derrick?
Twisting my neck, I saw him fighting off a third man. Furniture crashed in the background as they wrestled and both men grunted while fists connected with bone and muscle.
“Let me go!” My captor’s grip tightened as I yelled. His sweaty cheek pressed against mine and his hot beer breath stuck on my neck. He used one of his arms to try and cover my mouth but I thrashed my head and kept kicking.
In front of me, Derrick was choking Khloe cherry red. Her eyes drooped closed and she faded away, lights out.
