The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 195

Chapter 103-3

Clam

We stay like that for a long, quiet time, Yocked together, floating on the slow, lingering ripples of the storm that just passed through us, our ragged breathing mixing in the quiet dark.

Then, without warning, the wall of quiet strength I’ve kept built up all night simply crumbles.

A sob breaks from my throat, not from pain, or fear, but from the sheer, staggering weight of everything we’ve survived to reach this second.

The months of looking over my shoulder, the terror of Knox, the fear of losing my Dad and brother and Locke… it all overflows at once. Hot tears spill over my eyelashes, streaming down my cheeks in silent,

unbroken rivers.

Locke freezes, his chest rising sharp against mine. “Zara?”

He eases back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching my face in the dim light. When he sees the tears, a look of pure, heart-stopping tenderness crosses his face. He frames my cheeks with his broad, warm hands, his thumbs gently wiping the wet tracks away.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, pressing his forehead against mine. “Hey, I’ve got you. You’re safe, baby. I’m right here.”

I bury my face against his broad tattooed chest, my shoulders shaking as I cry freely into his skin, clutching at his back. He doesn’t rush me. He just wraps his massive arms tightly around me, holding me flush against him, murmuring quiet promises into my hair while his hand rubs soothing circles across my bare back.

He lets me cry until the violent tremors in my chest slow down, until my breathing turns into soft, quiet hiccups against his collarbone.

“All right?” he asks softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of my head. “You back with me?”

“Yeah.” I nod against his skin, wiping my disgusting snotty nose with the back of my wrist, letting out a weak, breathless laugh. “All right. Feeling gorgeous.”

Without another word, Locke steps back, carefully sliding out of me with a soft exhale.

Before the cold air can burrow into my skin, he reaches down and scoops me up into his arms, pulling me effortlessly against him. I automatically wrap my legs around his waist and anchor my arms around his neck, resting my heavy head on his shoulder.

He leaves the living room behind, carrying me down the quiet, shadow-draped hallway toward the master bedroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows of the bedroom reflect the snowflakes swirling around the glass outside, casting a soft, violet glow over the bed.

Locke sets me down gently in the center of the mattress. He pulls the heavy duvet over us both as he slides in beside me, gathering me right back into his arms. I press myself flat against his side, resting my head over his heart, listening to its steady, solid beat echoing beneath his dark ink.

He pulls the blankets up to our shoulders, resting his chin on top of my head, his fingers tracing quiet, lazy lines along my lower back until my eyelids grow heavy.

1/2

Hove you, gorgeous, snotty nose and all,” he whispers into the warm dark of the room. “Sleep now.”

t grin at him, then close my eyes, letting the steady pulse of his heart lull me to sleep.

Completely and totally safe in the middle of the storm.

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