“I informed you and your entire household of that only a million times last night when I thought…” His sentence trailed away as Imogen watched his throat work as though to swallow shards of glass. “Cole,” she murmured gently. “Look at me.” “I can’t.” He stood staring at her bedpost, waging a silent, desperate struggle with his greatest opponent. Himself. “I can’t fucking survive something like that again,” he finally admitted in a suspiciously husky voice. “I’d return to prison before I ever saw you in danger like that. It was the singular worst experience of my life.”
