53. Audra
A few hours later, we're in the back of a blacked-out SUV, heading home.
The word feels strange even as I think it.
Gabe's penthouse. The place where I set fire to the kitchen to escape him.
The place where I screamed his name while he ruined me in the best possible way.
Now it feels like home. Funny how quickly that happened.
Gabe's hand is wrapped around mine, his thumb stroking slow circles over my knuckles. The driver is silent up front, giving us privacy. Gabe looks exhausted, but his eyes are soft when they rest on me.
"I love you," he says quietly. "You're making me the happiest man alive, Audra. I never thought I'd have this. Never thought I'd deserve it."
I squeeze his hand, my throat tight. "I've wanted this for so long. A family. A real one. Wild and loud and chaotic. I tried with Pete for years… and nothing. Then one night with you and…" I let out a shaky laugh. "Twins."
Saying Pete's name leaves a sour taste in my stomach now.
Not because I don't mourn him—I do, in a quiet, grieving-for-a-friend kind of way—but because this joy I'm feeling right now is exactly what he denied me for years.
On purpose. He stole that future from me without ever asking how I felt about it.
His being dead doesn't make me any less angry at him.
I think it's also killed a lot of the feelings I had for him.
If he were still alive, we wouldn't just be separated; I'd file for divorce right now.
This kind of betrayal? That's not something you get over. Ever.
The anger wars with the joy I'm experiencing right now. The quiet disbelief that this is really happening. That I'm actually pregnant. After all the tears, the doctor visits, the silent disappointment… one night with Gabe, and my body said yes.
Gabe lifts our joined hands and kisses my knuckles. "Twins," he repeats, wonder still thick in his voice. "I can't stop thinking about it."
The car glides through the city lights. I stare out the window for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts, but Gabe keeps talking, his tone shifts into that of the decisive, mobster boss I'm starting to recognize.
"I've arranged for a justice of the peace to meet us at home," Gabe informs me, like he's telling me what we're having for dinner. "We'll keep it small for now. Quiet. And later, we'll do it properly. Whatever you want. Wherever you want. Big white dress, flowers, the whole thing."
My brain lags behind his words.
"Tonight… we make it official."
I blink at him, still trying to catch up. "I'm sorry—what?"
He doesn't smile. Doesn't soften it. Just looks at me with that steady, unshakable certainty that has undone me more than once already.
"The babies need a mother and a father," he explains slowly. "A married mother and father."
My chest tightens. God. I am with him. I know I am. There's no question there anymore. Whatever this is between us, it's real. Bigger than anything I've ever felt. Bigger than anything I thought I was capable of feeling.
But getting married tonight? This feels like stepping off a cliff without knowing how far the drop is.
"Gabe…" My voice comes out softer than I intend. "I buried my husband less than a month ago."
The words sound strange even to me. Like they belong to someone else. Someone watching my life from the outside, trying to make sense of it. Because the truth? Pete and I were over long before the bullet. If we hadn't been, we would have been. But still…
Grief curls in my chest, tangled with guilt and something sharper I don't want to name.
"I just—" I shake my head, trying to find something solid to hold onto. "This is fast. Too fast. I haven't even caught my breath yet, and you're asking me to?—"
"To marry me," he finishes calmly.
Yes. I nod to myself. That. I press my lips together, my hand drifting instinctively to my stomach.
Where our babies are living. Two heartbeats growing inside me.
A family. Everything I thought I wanted.
Everything I do want. That's the problem.
Because part of me wants to say yes. Right now.
No hesitation. No second thoughts. Just jump.
The other part… the part that remembers what it feels like to lose control of my own life, rears up hard.
"I'm with you," I tilt my head, because that part is true.
"I am. But I need… I don't know. A little time.
To catch up. To make this make sense in my head.
" I meet his eyes. "Can we just be engaged for now?
Keep it between us until I can stand in front of someone and say those words without feeling like I'm running from one life straight into another? "
He watches me for a long moment. His thumb brushes slowly over my knuckles, steady, grounding. "I wish I could give you that."
Something in my chest sinks.
"But I can't."
There it is. Not harsh. Not raised. Just… final.
"I have enemies," he continues. "Real ones. And now they know about you. About the babies." His gaze flicks briefly to my stomach before locking back onto mine. "One of the ways I protect what's mine is by making it clear—legally, publicly—that you belong to me."
My pulse stutters. Belong. The word shouldn't do anything to me. It does.
"This isn't negotiable, Audra."
Something hot and sharp flares in my chest. Anger. Fear. And rebellion.
"You don't get to just decide that," I snap before I can stop myself. "You don't get to decide when I get married. How I get married. That's?—"
"—exactly what I'm doing," he cuts in, not raising his voice, not losing control for even a second.
That should piss me off more. It does.
And it doesn't.
Because I understand him. I understand exactly why he's doing this. And I hate that part of me agrees. My mind flashes back, Pete, smiling, gentle, safe… and quietly making decisions that took my choices away piece by piece.
And Gabe… Gabe isn't pretending. He's not asking. He's telling me exactly what this is. No lies. No illusions. Just truth. Brutal and unfiltered.
I stare at him, with my heart racing, my thoughts spinning too fast to grab onto.
"I need a few hours," I object. "Just a few hours to think?—"
"No."
The word lands like a door slamming shut. My head snaps up. "Excuse me?"
"Because it won't change the outcome." He's still as calm as only Gabe can be. "No matter how long you think about it."
My temper sparks. "Wow. Good to know my opinion matters."
"It does," he assures me immediately.
My eyes narrow at him. His thumb presses more firmly against my hand, grounding me again, whether I want it or not.
"I see what's going on in your head," he continues. "The guilt. The grief. The part of you that thinks this is too fast." His gaze softens just a fraction. "I'm not dismissing that." His voice lowers. "But I'm not letting it put you in danger either."
Silence stretches between us. Heavy and charged.
"You almost died today," he doubles down. "I almost lost you."
That hits. Hard. Because I almost lost him too.
"And I'm not giving anyone another chance to take you from me. Not because of timing. Not because it feels sudden. Not because it's inconvenient." His eyes lock onto mine. "You are mine. Those babies are mine. And I protect what's mine."
My breath catches. God. I want to fight him. I want to push back. To argue. To demand control over something—anything—in this moment. But beneath all of that… there's something else. Something quieter. Stronger.
A truth I can't ignore. Pete had taken my choices without ever letting me see it happening. Gabe lays his at my feet and dares me to walk away.
I don't. Because, despite everything—The fear. The anger. The chaos of it all—I trust him. More than I probably should. More than makes sense.
My fingers tighten around his.
"God, I hate you a little right now," I whisper.
His mouth twitches. "I know."
I let out a shaky breath, my free hand pressing over my stomach again.
Two heartbeats. A future I never thought I'd have. A man who would burn the world to protect it.
This is insane. This is too fast. This is everything. I close my eyes for a second.
The girl who used to steal bikes, jump over trenches, and run from danger just to feel alive screams inside me: What the hell are you waiting for?
And the woman I am now, the one who almost died today, who watched the man she loves take a bullet for her, knows the truth. Being with Gabe comes with a price.
Protection has a cost. Safety has a cost. Love this fierce and all-consuming has a cost.
I'm also tired of running. Tired of hiding.
Tired of pretending to be the quiet, responsible wife when the wild part of me has been screaming to be let out since that stupid purse party.
One thing is for sure with him. I won't need to hide who I truly, deep down, am.
He'll accept me—flaws, temper, sense of adventure, and all.
I look at him and feel my resistance crack.
Fuck it. In for a dime. In for a dollar. Let's get hitched Vegas style.
"Fine," I mutter, even as fresh tears slip down my cheeks. "But you'd better take me to one of those sleezy wedding chapels of yours. I also want it clear that this is not the big wedding. And if you ever try to bulldoze me like this again, I swear I'll shoot you myself."
He grins, that dangerous, beautiful, heart-stopping grin that makes my stomach flip even when I'm furious with him. "Now we're talking."
I make a face, wiping at my tears with my bandaged hand. "I still can't believe I'm agreeing to this. My husband has been dead for less than a month. I'm bruised, stitched up, and carrying twins I didn't even know existed an hour ago. This is insane."