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              “Clove? Is that you, or am I dreaming?” Turner asks softly. His voice is so hoarse and sounds like he hasn’t had anything to drink for days. I’m so worried about what damage has been done to him. At last he’s alive and he knows I am here.

              “No, baby. It’s really me.”

              “What are you doing here? H-how?”

              “Shh. We can talk about all of that later. Right now I need to get you out of here. Can you get up and walk?”

              “Honey, I don’t know. My left leg is broken, and I am so weak. I have been beaten, and tortured, and-”

“Shh. I don’t think I can take hearing everything they have done to you right now.”

I continue to rub his head. I just can’t keep my hands off of him. He’s here and I have him and I cannot let him go again. I just can’t.

“Turner, I have no plan. I don’t know what to do, but we have to try and get out of here. Can you sit up?”

He moans as if he is in the most excruciating pain and my heart breaks as I hear him struggling to try and get up. His breathing raspy, he groans in anguish as he clutches hold of his stomach.

“H-help me baby.”

His desperate words are almost inaudible. I do my best to try and help by guiding him up with my hands wrapped around his arm, but when he winces in pain I have no choice but to let go, fearful I will hurt him even more.

“Turner!” I half-sob.

              “Clove, just give me a minute here. I need to sit up, and- FUCK!” he hisses as he pushes himself all the way up into a sitting position. All I want to do is kiss him senseless and hold him and take away every bit of pain he has. He’s here. I am with him, and it kills me to not be able to hold him and to have his strong arms around me. There’s just no time. Time is way too precious for both of us right now.

He struggles at his own pace until is able to swing his legs around. They drop with a loud thud to the floor. Time stands still and I stop breathing as my ears perk up. I glance at the open door, waiting and waiting for someone to walk in and hear us. When nothing happens, I reach out and place my hand over the top of his.

              “I missed you so much,” I say as I lean down and kiss his hand.

The waterworks start to flow hard and fast down my face, and before I know it I am quietly sobbing in his lap, clinging onto him as if my life depends on it. And he lets me. The irony of my life depending on him is all but hysterical since it’s really the other way around. Saving both of our lives depends on me, not him.

My beautiful, strong man who has been to hell and back places his hand on top of my head and strokes my hair. His touch instantly soothes me. I dry the last of my tears with the backs of my hands and help myself up. Turner sighs and it’s the most beautiful sound I think I have ever heard.

              “You have no idea how much I missed you, either.” My man is straining so greatly to even speak. “Everything about you gave me the strength to survive. I am so much in love with you, Clove Calloway.”

He pauses.

              “I’m a mess, my beautiful wife, but I need to feel your lips on mine more than I need to inhale my next breath.”

Oh, God. I want that too, more than anything. When I lean in and our lips touch ever so tenderly, we both come undone. Our mouths open and our tongues glide over one another’s in a kiss full of emotion. Love, hope, desperation, longing. Turner breaks our homecoming kiss recoiling in pain. I go to speak and he hushes me with a finger gently over my lips.

“How did you get here?” he whispers.

              “Turner, we don’t have time for any of that. We have to go now,” I say urgently.

              “I don’t think I can walk, Clove. My broken leg is so swollen.”

I shift my eyes to take a closer look at his leg, but it’s so hard to see how much damage there truly is with the minimal light in the room.

              “You should go and run. Run until you find someone to come back here.”

Alarmed by his words, I jerk and shake my head back and forth.

              “No! I won’t leave you. I can’t, Turner. I refuse.”

              “Fucking hell!” he cries out in agony, and I see his hand go to his side.

              “What is it?”

My eyes desperately try to search his face in the faint light streaming in through the doorway. It’s getting lighter by the second when I look towards the window and see outside.

              “It’s nothing, Clove.”

He’s lying. I know him.

              “Baby, James is a crazy man. The thought of him touching even one hair on your gorgeous head would truly be the death of me. Please, just go. I love you too much to die. I can survive this as long as I know you will be by my side and in my arms where you belong when this is all over. Please don’t fight me on this. Go, and get help.”

I know he can see the despairing look on my face. He also knows I won’t leave him as his brows furrow and he closes his eyes. And when he opens them I see and feel everything as our eyes tell each other how deep our love is.

“You are so damn beautiful.”

He lifts his hands ever so carefully and cups my face. His hands are so rough, not smooth like they used to be, and yet I don’t care. I sink into his touch. I feel it all the way into my bones and it’s the best feeling in the world to finally be here with him. I keep my eyes closed for the longest time. I am so scared to open them and look at him. I know I am going to cry and lose it right here if I do.

I have to, though. I don’t know if it’s because I have to see him in the flesh to know he is really here with me, or if I need to look into his eyes and see the love I have missed so much shining brightly back at me one more time.

I open my eyes with my head bowed so that the first thing I notice isn’t his face. I don’t like what I see at all. Blood stained clothes. The same clothes he had on when he left for his trip. They’re filthy and soaked in his own urine. Was he just thrown in here and left to try and survive on his own? And he looks so skinny.

After all he has been through, here he sits with his loving hand cupping my jaw and holding me as if I am everything to him. I make my weak self continue looking upward until I land on his jaw, which is now quite heavily covered with unshaven hair. His face is swollen and his nose is crooked. He doesn’t even look like the man I love at all, and yet when I reach those eyes of his, I smile when I see what I have been missing for over a week. I see my Turner.

The way he looks at me is like no other. It’s the same look as I give him, the same look that has been staring back at me since the day I met him. It’s the look of, you’re my forever, my one and only true love, and until my last breath I will cherish you always. Holes are being poked into my heart when I think about how much I have betrayed him, and on so many levels. As if he could read my mind, he bends down and places the lightest kiss on both sides of my cheeks.

              “We will talk about everything later. Now let’s get the hell out of here before-”

              “Before what?”

We both turn our heads and James is standing in the doorway, hung over and waving a gun around in his hand.