I just needed … this. Someone to ground me from my spinning emotions and confusion.
"John was a good man," he whispered.
"Yeah, he really was." I rested my cheek on his chest and gazed into the fire.
I wish I'd known my father. I had pictures of him at home, but it dawned on me that I couldn't visualize his face at the moment. I saw John's. Why had I never paid more attention to what my parents looked like? Because looking at the pictures felt like watching John die. It simply hurt too much.
My breath caught in my throat.
"Do you need me to do anything?" Taylor asked, his grip tightening around me.
"Stay here. Don't let me go until I'm asleep."
"Yes, ma'am." He hugged me to him.
Good man. There was no way a man willing to hold me all night was the bad guy Carter made him out to be. There had to be another explanation.