Epilogue
GRIFFIN
SIX MONTHS LATER
“I do,” Sasha says as I squeeze her hand.
She does the same, and I’m there before the celebrant even tells us to kiss, clasping her against me and pressing my lips to hers.
The small crowd around us cheers. Seeing as we don’t know most of them quite as well as my family, I spare them too much tongue.
“You look beautiful, Sash,” Leila says.
Sasha’s older sister, a tall, dark-haired woman in her early forties, embraces her as soon as we come down from the gazebo. Her other brother Cal follows and does the same after shaking my hand.
This one was supposed to be just the two of us, but once word got out to our local friends, Sasha made a point of inviting the two siblings she didn’t know as well as Sam growing up.
They were both honored enough to fly into Columbus and drive here to the tiny town of North Road for the small event.
None of them talk about the absence of their oldest brother. Probably because Sam is on trial, looking at time for his connections to Creelman’s criminal organization.
Creelman, meanwhile, hasn’t been found. Just like Lionel.
But I’m the executor to Lionel’s estate—along with Chester’s.
Between their estates—which they both left to me—and my savings left over from financing this new operation with Ford, I still hope to see Lionel’s vision for Laura’s school realized in some form.
Along with other plans Chester dreamed of.
In her expensive-looking suit and pearls, Leila sticks out like a sore thumb outside the city, but then again, Sasha used to as well.
Now, as Sasha chats jovially with the few guests at our second wedding—the real one she made me promise we’d have the minute the weather warmed up—she looks like a natural.
She invited several town fixtures to the wedding, including, quite literally, the butcher and the local baker.
I wouldn’t be surprised if she already knew the local candlestick maker.
Ford’s here, too, of course, and Gloria, who followed us here a few months after we moved, saying there was nothing keeping her in Quince Valley, beautiful as it was, after we left.
Last night she told us over dinner that she’d heard from Vivian—her sister had gone into remission and appeared to be doing well even now, several months after she was given only weeks to live.
I can’t help thinking about Chester and how arbitrary life can be when she tells me that.
We’re meeting up with them again at our new place. But not before I take my wife home after our vow renewal-disguised-as a wedding and do what I did that night she told me she was moving here with me.
I’m going to tell her she’s made me the happiest man in the damn world.
And then I’m going to fuck her silly.
She laughs as I take her hand and tell everyone we can’t wait to take all their blessings at six o’clock tonight at our brand-new house right here in town.
“Until then, we’ve got things to do,” I say.
“What kind of things?” Ford asks loud enough that everyone laughs.
I glower at him, but now Sasha does the pulling toward where my Bonneville sits on its kickstand on the edge of the park.
It’s the only thing I still have from Quince Valley—that and my truck.
Everything else went up in flames. Losing the workshop was the biggest blow.
But I don’t care about it or the bike even an iota as much as the woman holding on to me now.
In my rearview, I see her dress flying in the wind. She looks like an angel.
But she always looks that way to me.
When we get home, I’m surprised to find the door to our new place unlocked.
“Oh shit,” Sasha says. “I think I might have left it unlocked when I rushed out of here earlier.”
“That right?” I ask. I’m not upset. I’m so rarely upset when it comes to Sasha.
And in this town, no one knows who we are. They don’t know what we do. No one’s got any reason to target us or our idyllic little house.
I pray I can keep it that way.
Ford and I are already working on some troubling cases, but we’re going to be saving lives, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I pull off my suit jacket, tossing it onto a pile of unassembled furniture boxes. We took possession a few days ago, and our furniture arrived yesterday on pallets.
“Listen, planning a wedding and moving all in one week? I was a little distracted!”
She sighs, twirling around. She loves this house. I love it, too. Almost as much as I love her walking around it sighing happily, which she’s been doing between all her running around.
She was surprised when I brought her to see this place. “Isn’t it a little big for just the two of us?” she asked. Most of the houses we looked at were tiny—two bedrooms or a bedroom and a den.
“Maybe,” I said casually, though my palms were sweating as we walked inside.
From the moment I saw it, it felt like home—and it had nothing to do with the huge workshop out back. But that was the moment of truth. “But maybe it doesn’t always have to be the two of us.”
She paused in the entryway, not getting it at first. When she did, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Wait…you mean…?” she let out a little laugh. “I thought you didn’t like babies.”
“I never said that. They just scare me.”
Her eyes were big and beautiful. Filled with possibility. “We could always start with a puppy.”
“Or an older kid?” I already knew we were going to encounter lots of those needing a loving home in my line of work.
We talked all night about the ways to fill this house, even if one of those was just us two making it ours.
“So, husband.” Sasha says now. She’s done her little happy sigh, and now she’s grinning wickedly at me as she reaches behind her back to unzip her dress. “Where shall we christen this marriage?”
“How’s right here?” I ask, taking over and pulling the zipper down.
“We could make it more fun.” She steps neatly out of the dress.
“Goddamn,” I say, sucking in a breath as I take in my stunning wife. She’s wearing a strapless black lace bra and panty set, along with garters and thigh-high pantyhose.
She turns around and flashes me her ass, most of which is bare under the cut of those underwear.
I growl, reaching for her, but she jumps out of the way.
“No way. You have to catch me first.” She kicks off her heels. “Wherever you do, that’s where you can take me.”
I shake my head. “You won’t make it two—”
She sprints, feinting left.
But I’m right, of course. She doesn’t make it even one second, because I catch her easily, spinning her around. “Something you maybe didn’t know about me, sweetheart,” I say as I throw her over my shoulder. “Is that I’m faster than I look.”
She squeals as I stalk around the house; louder when I give her ass a smack.
But she’s laughing so hard I can tell she’s having trouble breathing. Or is that because she’s upside down? “Oh my God, you brute, put me down!”
“Hmm,” I say, peering down the hallway at my choices. None of the furniture is in place yet—the apartment we were staying in until we found this place was fully furnished.
We’ve been sleeping on an air mattress in the main bedroom. “This’ll do,” I say.
I swing her off my shoulder and toss her onto the mattress, where she bounces very fucking appealingly.
“Hey!” she cries.
But I shrug out of my shirt, then pull my belt out of my pants with a swift snapping sound.
“Oh God,” she says, her eyes falling to half-mast. “That sound.”
I drop the belt on the ground with a clunk, then jump on the bed beside her.
This, of course, makes her go flying, and she shrieks, legs kicking in the air. I have to jump under her to catch her in time.
She beats me on the chest, laughing. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“You look a lot like you do trying to shove me into swimming holes.”
“How dare you?” She knocks her little fists against my chest some more, but she’s laughing, looking more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her.
“You done?” I ask.
I don’t wait for her to answer. I flip her onto her back, pinning her arms over her head. “That’s enough goofing off,” I say. “I’m hungry.”
Sasha laughs hard, but it’s gone a moment later when I let her go, pulling her panties aside and taking her with my tongue.
I don’t make her wait. I bring her straight to her first orgasm, and then I don’t wait either. I pull myself out of my shorts and slide into her wet, still-clenching center, making her open her mouth and do a little gasping moan.
“That’s my girl,” I groan into her ear as I thrust myself into her. She wraps her legs around me, giving everything to me.
“Griffin,” she breathes in my ear right as I’m teetering on the edge.
“Yes?”
“You may have caught me, but I think I win.”
“No way, baby,” I say, kissing her long and hard. I break away long enough to reach my hand down between us, touching her in just the right spot. “I win. I got the most incredible woman in the world to marry me.”
I increase the pressure with my thumb and my hips. As she tumbles over the edge, I say, “Twice.”
Gloria’s the first to arrive that night, an hour before everyone else.
We’ve shoved all the boxes to the side and set up enough beer and wine in the kitchen for an army. Glo’s brought pizza. So long as I can disappear outside every so often, I think I’m going to be okay.
“You look amazing,” Sasha says, holding her friend at arm’s length. She’s wearing a dress—she looks pretty for sure, but all I can see is Sasha. I head to the kitchen, punching out a text to Ford.
“Guess who’s here?”
It’s fun to tease him about his little crush, especially since he hasn’t made a move yet—and maybe never will.
“I’ll be there in ten” is his quick reply.
I chuckle to myself, cracking open a beer. I might just hide in here for a bit to give the two women time to gush about wedding stuff, but I can’t help overhearing Gloria as she crosses the floor and says, “Wow, that’s so weird.”
Something about the way she says that—like something’s not just weird but veering into eerie.
I shift to the doorway where I can see them.
Gloria’s standing with her back to us in front of the mantel, looking at something.
Sasha frowns, throwing a glance at me.
“That night at the Rolling Hills,” Gloria said. “When I came late and you guys just told Griff’s family you were moving here,” she pauses. “I ran into someone.”
I cross over to Sasha, on some kind of instinct, a chill threatening to rise up my back.
“He was moving fast to leave, had a suitcase and everything, and he nearly crashed into me. Scared the shit out of me, actually.”
Sasha’s hand slips into mine, squeezing me tight enough that I know she’s scared.
“He was handsome. Like really handsome. Older than me, though. But the reason he didn’t see me was because he was staring at you two. I was sure you knew him.”
She turns around, and my mouth goes dry. “He looked at me so intensely—I can still feel it.” The last part of her words is almost breathless. “It was like he was…touching me with a look, if that makes sense.”
Gloria’s cheeks suddenly flush pink. “Sorry. It doesn’t make sense at all. It was strange. But the funniest thing was—he was holding one of these.”
In her hand is a spot of bright yellow. A little bird I fixed in a workshop turned to ash.
A little bird Sasha told me she’d given back to her brother.
A little bird someone placed in our new home, right here for us to find.
I hope you loved reading Griffin and Sasha’s story as much as I loved writing it!