Chapter 10
MARA
Iscream as I hear bullets clatter into the windscreen. I glance up from the floor and see a spider’s web pattern across it. But the glass doesn’t break. Beside me, Rad snarls and pushes down on the accelerator. The car surges forward, slamming into the men.
“Stay here!” Rad roars …As if there’s anything else I can do! I cringe, crumpled down under the dashboard. I stupidly crane my head up to take a peek.
Rad climbs out and slides a gun from his leather jacket pocket. My mind is already a conflicted battlefield, but as I glimpse the hazy vision of Rad through the shattered glass …
I hear three very loud and close gunshots. I see him execute three men. Three men who just tried to kill us. After the third gunshot—the third execution—a strange and beautiful sort of certainty settles in my chest. We’re not simple. We’re definitely not normal.
But what we have, what we’ve formed over magical hours spent together, is special.
Why can’t I think straight? This is just too much for me.
Panic crawls up my neck. Threatens to close my throat.
I try to take slow breaths, but my mind still goes to Dad, even now.
To all the evil he committed by his own confession.
Rad is doing bad things too … But for the right reasons.
I tell myself.
He climbs back into the car, blood-spattered. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“Who were they?” I gasp.
“Men who thought they could take what we have,” he growls. “Men who thought they could take you, angel. But that’s never happening. Never.”
He reaches over; his hand trembles. He cradles my face and talks in a husky, unflinching voice. “Most people would call us strangers. But the second I saw you—hell, just even in a damn photo—I knew you were the one for me. I knew you were my everything. Things will never be simple between us …”
“Who needs simple?” I cut in.
He smiles. It reaches his eyes, making him look almost boyish.
“Amen to that.”
Later, I sit on the back porch of our safe house in the woods. Our safe house. Drinking hot cocoa made for me by my father’s killer. The man I should hate most, in this world. He sits opposite, cleaning one of his guns, his big hulking hands handling the small pieces with surprising gentleness.
“This would make a good photo,” I admit. “The quiet after all the craziness.”
He smiles at me. “Then get your camera, beautiful. I won’t stand in the way of your art. Ever.” He lifts his phone. “Or just use this”
I shoot him a disgusted glance. “Never, I am staying old school.” I grab my camera and snap the shot.
Then he winks and says, “I’ve got another pose you might want to capture.”
He walks into the house, giving me a moment alone with nature, the quiet all around us.
Rad will do anything to protect us, protect me, and what we have.
I am feeling a little less conflicted these days.
Not more sensible, definitely not more sane.
But, yes, less conflicted. More assured of my path in life.
The things I hold dear. Maybe contented is taking it too far.
He returns, seeming a little sheepish. Not the cocksure Rad I know and have come to love.
“The second I left your apartment, after I … told you.” He swallows.
I step forward, place my hand on his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat. “We’ll never be normal,” I tell him. “And that’s okay.”
He smiles, places his hand atop mine. “I went straight to buy this. I wanted a reminder of what we could have had. Never dreaming I’d be so lucky to get a second chance … actually be here today with you, like this”
He takes a ring box from his pocket.
I gasp and step back as a wolf howls from somewhere deep in the forest.
“I want to protect you for the rest of our lives,” he says huskily. “I want to be there for you, angel. To support you. To help you thrive. To be your Daddy… sometimes,” he winks, “in and out of the bedroom.”
I laugh in delight, tears prickle my eyes.
He lowers himself to one knee. “Mara Rogan,” he says, opening the ring box. Showing a big, beautiful diamond set within a white-gold band, with a red decal as if hinting at our bloody beginning.
“Wait, wait,” grabbing my camera, “I have to capture this moment…sorry, you were about to say…”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I whisper. Then I raise my voice, let the whole forest hear, let my soul sing in pure joy. “Yes, yes, yes!” I yell to the broad sky.
He cheers, sliding the ring onto my finger, looking happier than I would’ve thought possible the first time I saw him glaring from the shadows in that wedding photo.
“I love you,” he says fiercely, and pulls me in for a kiss. A sweet kiss.
“I love you too,” I tell him, meaning it with every shimmer in my full, full heart.