Page 47 of One Vote for Murder
“Definitely. He’s not hiding it either.”
“Will he do jail time?”
“Not sure. Maybe. That’s up to the DA and the judge.” Royce frowned. “He’ll definitely be in custody; whether it’s at a mental health facility or jail, I’m not sure. Pretty sure he’s mentally ill. He needs professional help.”
“I agree.” I shivered, remembering the frantic energy radiating from River.
“Lucas is pushing hard to get him into a mental health facility instead of jail. He’s a persistent little bugger. He might just succeed.”
“So long as I don’t have to see him again.” I shuddered.
“You won’t, Max.”
“Good,” I said quietly. “I… I want to forgive him. I want to be the bigger man, but I don’t seem to have that in me. I know hating someone is wrong, but I do hate him.”
“No one would blame you for that either. What he did to you was unforgivable.”
I grimaced. “I feel sorry for his family. First, they lost Lucinda, and now River.”
“Neither of which was your fault.”
“No.” I knew that logically. Anyone who’d operated on Lucinda without knowing about the tumor would have faced what I’d faced. Odds were, she’d have died either way. But I’d never really know that for sure.
“River had a choice, and he picked wrong. He funneled all his grief against you, which is bullshit.”
Guilt nipped at me. “Maybe if I was nicer though, he wouldn’t have… imploded.”
“You can’t think like that. He was already out of line following you here to Rainy Dale. That shows an unbalanced mind, Max.”
“True.”
“River is responsible for his actions and you for yours. Period.”
I leaned on him. “Thank you, Royce. You’re on my side as usual.”
“Always.”
“You always see the best in me.”
“That’s because I love you,” he said against my ear.
I pressed closer. “God, I’m jealous of how easily you say those things.”
“Yeah?”
I sighed. “I… I wish I was like you. I… I wish I could tell you that stuff. All I could think about when I thought I was going to die was you. How sad I was that I was losing you. I want to tell you how I feel about you, Royce, but I can never find the words.”
“Hey, Max?” His voice was husky. “You just did.”
****
Our evening together was quiet, which was perfect. We shared a vegetarian pizza and listened to music. I tried my darnedest but couldn’t keep my eyes open past 8:00 p.m. Royce was fine with an early night, so we headed to the bedroom.
I was self-conscious of the bruising on my body as I undressed. Royce’s gaze was dark and angry as he took in the contusions. I got under the sheets as fast as possible, just so he’d stop glowering. I wanted his comfort tonight, not his pity. I didn’t want him to see me as a victim, I wanted him to remember me as a man.
When he got under the covers, I moved up to him first. He seemed surprised when I kissed him but pleased. I didn’t tend to make the first move, but he enjoyed it when I did. I nibbled his throat, inhaling his familiar scent. When I’d been in that sinkhole, I’d been so scared I’d never have the chance to touch him again, but here we were. Together. Alive.
I slipped my hand down his flat stomach, enjoying the flex of his muscles under my seeking fingers. I explored his body, sliding my palm over his obvious erection, heart racing. I squeezed his thick shaft through the material of his pajama bottoms, aching for more.
