Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

nightmares. Don't we all? Don't you?" She framed his face with her hands because everything she said was true. She was stronger and she did know what she wanted. "We're partners. Now. Forever. You can't shield everyone you love from bad things, Jonas. They're going to happen. When they do, we'll handle them together."
    Jonas stared into her eyes for a long time, searching for the truth. "I don't know if I can forgive myself."
    "Have you heard a word I've said? Jonas, if we're going to make it together, if I'm as important to you as you say I am, then you have to listen to me. I want all of you.
    Every single bit of you. I won't accept a man who is afraid to love me with his entire heart and soul and body. If I can't have all of you, then there's no point in this. You can't control the world, Jonas, and you can't continue to blame yourself for things beyond your control. I never asked you to be different. Yes, you scare me sometimes, but I'll take fear over you trying to be someone you're not."
    Jonas opened his mouth and then closed it. If he had remembered the picture, then Tarasov would never have connected Hannah to him. He wouldn't have destroyed an entire family… He groaned. He couldn't take that on, too. The couple had choices.
    They could have gone to the cops, put their daughter into protective custody, but they'd elected to murder an innocent woman to protect their own. That was on them.
    He rubbed his hands over his face and looked down into Hannah's face.
    "I'm not going to tell you that you're right."
    "But I am."

    His eyes softened. A small smile tugged at his mouth. "Hannah. You didn't stammer.
    Not once—not even when you were putting me in my place."
    He leaned in to kiss her. Gentle. Tender. So sweet it brought tears to her eyes.
    "Are we good?" she asked.
    "We're good," he answered. He'd live with what happened because he had no other choice. He'd made a mistake and she was right, there was no going back. He wasn't about to lose her over it. If she could look him straight in the eye, then he was man enough to do the same.
    He looked slowly around the room. "I don't suppose the house repairs furniture and dishes?"
    Hannah laughed. "No such luck. But if you notice, there's no hole in the wall. Next time you decide to go crazy and punch the wall, you might remember, this house could protest and just lock your fist inside, and then where would you be?"
    He narrowed his eyes and looked warily at the wall. "This place is definitely creepy."
    He kissed her again. "I suppose I'm going to have to face everyone. I hate telling your sisters that I put you—and maybe them—in danger."
    "It isn't like we haven't been in danger before, Jonas," Hannah reminded him.
    The truth was, he could barely stand the idea that he had exposed his family to a madman like Boris Tarasov. The Russian was brutal and vengeful, his reputation scared even seasoned investigators. With a small sigh, he stood up and reached down to take her hand, pulling her to her feet.
    "I guess I have to get it over with." But instead of going into the living room, he wrapped his arms around Hannah and held her against him, his hands sliding down her jeans to cup her bottom and bring her tight against him. "Thank you."
    "I love you, Jonas."
    "Thank you for not telling me what an ass I am for tearing up the kitchen. Sometimes I have so much anger in me," he confessed in a whisper against her ear, "so much rage, it scares the hell out of me."
    She pressed her mouth to his throat, remembering very vividly the day, long ago, he had come into their house so angry he couldn't stand still. Waves of grief poured off him and mixed with impotent rage. He'd torn up the kitchen then, too. Her mother had taken Libby and had gone to do what they could to ease Jeanette Harrington's suffering. Mrs. Drake had never chastised Jonas, but she had handed him a broom.
    "It doesn't scare me, Jonas," Hannah said. She kissed him again. "But after we're married, if you break my dishes, be prepared to clean up the mess and then go out and get me new ones immediately." She reached back, tugged at his hand until she had possession of it and brought his injured knuckles once more to her mouth. "Let's go. I can feel how worried the others are about you."
    The moment they entered the living room, he was swarmed by Hannah's sisters—his sisters. They crowded around him, their hands soothing, bringing peace, healing his knuckles—healing his soul. Sending him waves of love