SAMMY POV
I didn’t know how long I sat there with my fingers laced through his, feeling the tremor in his palm mirror mine. Time had stopped and learned to breathe slow. The world narrowed to the two of us—his heat, the steady thud of his heart under my ear, Tabitha’s low, contented hum in the back of my skull—and the rest was a soft blur at the edges.
When I’d said Jonas’s name, I’d braced for a dozen things: horror, revulsion, silence, sympathy folded up nice and distant like a paper napkin. I didn’t know precisely what I was expecting.
But sure as hell, I wasn’t expecting him to look so murderous when I said that scumbag’s name.
I expected disgust. Rage. Shame.
Toward me.
But it wasn’t me he looked at like that. His fury wasn’t aimed at my broken pieces. His fury was for me. He lo
