BROKEN COURAGE (Broken Redemption Book 3)

Chapter 52

Emilia

"Emb, do you have a minute?" Luc's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I glance up to find him standing at the doorway of the upstairs office, where I've been making calls, trying to find a children's therapist for the girls. The exhaustion on his face mirrors my own, the weight of everything we're carrying together reflected in his tired eyes.

Yet somehow, even in this moment, he's the most attractive man I've ever laid eyes on. His chiseled jaw, now covered with a few days' worth of scruff, only adds to his rugged appeal, giving him an edge that makes my heart skip a beat. And those curls—the silky light brown strands that have grown just long enough to fall across his forehead—only make him look more effortlessly sexy.

When our eyes meet, Luc doesn't hesitate. In an instant, he's by my side, taking my hand and helping me to my feet before pulling me into his arms. He's held me this way countless times before, but there's something different about this moment. The way he clings to me, the way his embrace feels a bit too tight, a little too desperate—it's like he's searching for some kind of anchor, something to steady him through whatever storm is brewing inside him.

I can feel it, his need to say something, but instead of asking, I stay silent. I let him hold me, let him take whatever he needs from me. In this fragile moment, it's all I can offer him—my presence, my quiet understanding, my trust that he'll tell me when he's ready.

When he finally pulls away, it's not far. He takes my hand again, leading us out of the office toward the bedroom we once shared—his childhood bedroom where we once used to play. The room feels heavy with memories as he guides me to the bed, where he curls his body behind mine, wrapping me in his warmth. His chest presses against my back, his breath soft against the back of my head as he breathes me in, and for a moment, we just lie there.

Then, in a voice so quiet I almost miss it, he whispers, "We found him."

My heart stops. The calm in his voice doesn't match the tension running through his body, nor the erratic beat of his heart thrumming against my back. His fingers move nervously yet tenderly, tracing a path from my arms down to my hip as if grounding himself through touch.

I don't need to ask who. I already know.

"He's still in town. Creed thinks he's luring us into a trap." To understand what he's trying to say, I need to see him. So I turn over, bringing us chest to chest so I can look at him as he speaks.

"We need him alive," he swallows hard. "God, don't I know it, but Emb... I want to fucking kill him for what he did to you and the girls. I want to end him. To destroy him."

His face contorts with pain, his eyes brimming with overwhelming emotion—anger, hatred, and worst of all, despair. His voice is raw, laced with all-consuming fury, and yet it's the hopelessness underneath that tears at my heart.

"What if I can't stop?" Desperation seeps through every surface of his body as he reaches up to cup the side of my face. "I don't think I'll be able to stop." His voice cracks, trembling as he admits the fear that's haunting him.

"You can, baby. And you will. Because you are the strongest, bravest, most amazing man I have ever known." His breath hitches, and I press my forehead to his, willing him to hear me, to believe what I know to be true. "You. Found. Us. You. Saved. Us." I speak each word slowly, deliberately, needing him to feel the weight of what he did for us. "That's how I know you'll do what needs to be done. Because you are a good man, the best man."

I run my thumb across his cheek, feeling his warmth, his vulnerability, and as I look into his eyes, I give him the only thing I can—my unwavering belief in him. "I believe in you."