Jack pulled Lacey into him, holding her tight as she rested her head on his heart. She listened to the comforting thumps. “I heard Kelly leave.”

Lacey said nothing.

“Were you right about Jessica?”

She nodded against his chest.

“What’s in the box? Why does your dad need it back tomorrow?”

She’d wanted to open it alone. But they’d made a commitment to face problems together. Since the fire, only during his surgeries had Jack been away from her side. He’d insisted Michael or her dad stay with her at those times. Twice he’d come out of anesthesia with his fists swinging and her name ripping from his lips. Half-conscious, he’d been inconsolable until he’d heard her voice, touched her face.

Lacey no longer worried about his playboy past or his commitment to a relationship with her. Any other man would have raced away in the aftermath; Jack had stayed, been her rock. He’d told her he wanted to be with her. He’d repeated it a dozen times in the days after the fire, clenching her hands like he might be asking too late, like she might turn him down.

Lacey had understood. She should be dead, but life had given them a second chance and neither of them would waste it. He’d moved into her home and clutched her close every night in their bed.

She loved him.

She picked up the box and Jack followed her into the kitchen. “It’ll help with my nightmares.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw his shoulders jerk. He’d had a front-row seat to her restless and thrashing dreams. Mentally they both knew the danger was gone, but emotional shadows flitted around the two of them. Shadows of stress and strain, remnants from a night of horror. She set the box on the island and rested her hands on its top.

I don’t know if I can do this.

Jack ran a hand over his short hair. “I’m trying to help you with the nightmares.”

She gave him a smile, meeting his worried eyes. He so badly wanted to heal her, give her peace, and mend every sad part of her. “You do help. I love waking to find your arms around me at all hours of the night.” She knew it helped him too.

Lacey frowned at the box. “This is for closure.”

She opened the top of the box and reached in, pulling out a rounded shape wrapped in white towels. Slowly she peeled back the towels and heard Jack catch his breath. “Jesus, Lace.”

Lacey eyed the sanitized skull. Two round holes punctured the forehead, an inch and a half apart. A large section of the back of the skull was missing, destroyed by the powerful exit of the bullets. The mandible was also missing, but she didn’t need that part. She looked at the front top teeth. Taking a deep breath she touched a finger to the tiny lateral incisors, the ones that looked like small fangs. She rapidly rewrapped the skull, set it in the box, and closed the top with quivering hands. She exhaled, feeling the shadows lighten, the tears threaten.

Bobby DeCosta wasn’t coming back.

His arms shaking a little, Jack pulled her tight to his chest and pressed his mouth against her hair. “God, I love you. You know that, right? Right?”

Nodding, she closed her eyes, inhaled his scent, and relaxed, feeling his heat warm her to her toes. No one could take her away from him again.

“I love you too,” she whispered.