Epilogue
Christmas Day
Ellis woke up to the now familiar throb in his shoulder. It was annoying beyond the telling, but it was a price he was willing to pay for where he was now.
Colleen was in jail. Her merry band of hit men either in the hospital still or rotting in jails awaiting trials.
There was no evidence the Caruso family knew or cared where Agent Ellis Sutton was. He’d never been the surprise he thought he’d been, so he wasn’t a target.
He could almost thank Colleen for taking that black cloud out of his life.
Almost.
Because he was at home with his wife. Not their house in Chicago anymore, but the little house outside of Hope Town he’d bought—with Zach’s help—quickly enough they’d been able to move in two days ago.
Just in time for Christmas.
They hadn’t had time to furnish it much beyond a bed yet, but Kirsten had filled it full to the brim of Christmas decorations. She fluttered around him like he’d been shot to the brink of death, not just suffered one little gunshot wound to the shoulder.
But he didn’t mind so much. He didn’t mind anything. Waking up to Kirsten every morning was worth anything and everything.
Boyd had left for Tennessee after a few days recovering from his own wound—a little more than the scratch he’d claimed, but not as bad as Ellis’s.
They’d keep in touch this time. They’d visit.
Because his life wasn’t stuck anymore. He wasn’t hiding anymore. It was a life and he got to live it.
Groaning a little at the pain, Ellis got up and went to find Kirsten. Okay, and a pain pill. Not the one the hospital had prescribed—those made him loopy and it was Christmas. But something over the counter to take the edge off.
He wasn’t surprised that she was in the kitchen. They’d opened their gifts to each other last night—he’d ordered her everything he could think of to stock the kitchen with the things she’d want. She’d had the recliner he’d always wanted—and she’d always refused because of aesthetics—delivered.
When she saw him, she quickly tsked. “Sit down. I’ll bring you your pills and some coffee.” She crossed over to him, no doubt ready to pull him into his chair.
But he didn’t let her budge him. He wrapped his good arm around her, held her still.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, then pressed a kiss to her mouth.
She let the kiss linger, then pulled away, trying to frown disapprovingly at him no doubt, but she was all smiles.
“Merry Christmas. Now sit.” She pushed him into the chair, then fussed about his bandages, his sling, his pain pill. She brought him a plate piled high with a Christmas breakfast fit for a family of ten, not two.
When she came back with her plate, he pulled her onto his lap with his good arm.
So, after two Christmases alone and miserable, Ellis Sutton ate this Christmas breakfast with his wife on his lap, the Christmas tree lights twinkling everywhere.
Her sigh of contentment was everything he could ever want. Well, almost.
“Maybe by next Christmas we’ll have a baby to celebrate with.”
She didn’t react right away. For a moment, she sat completely still. Then she looked at him, eyes a little shiny. “Are you sure? Because we can wait. We can—”
“I’m terrified. As terrified as I ever was. That didn’t go away. What went away was…the refusal to accept that. To share it. I’ll still worry and be afraid, but you know, maybe a good father should worry. So I am sure, Kirsten. Absolutely sure.”
She wrapped her arms around him, and he knew she was crying a little bit. But that was okay. Just like fear. Just like pain. It was part of life—part of a life well lived, and he wanted to live the best life he could.
And with her by his side, he knew he would.