24. Blaze
BLAZE
The scream downstairs ripped straight through the tavern.
Raw.
Panicked.
Pain-filled.
Flick jerked slightly in my arms.
I didn’t let go.
Not immediately.
Because for one perfect shattered second, nothing existed except what she’d just said.
I was going to marry you too.
I buried my face briefly against her hair and closed my eyes.
Nineteen-year-old Flick picking out a wedding dress while I wrote letters from Ranger school.
God.
We lost so much.
Another scream echoed from downstairs.
Definitely Vaughn.
Trigger’s voice drifted upward casually:
“You should really start answering questions.”
Wolf muttered something impossible to make out.
Then Vaughn shouted again.
Yeah.
He finally realized something important.
Nobody here was interested in protecting him.
Flick pulled back slightly to look up at me.
Wide blue eyes.
Tears still shining.
“You should probably stop them from killing him.”
Probably.
Didn’t mean I wanted to.
My hands stayed on her waist.
Couldn’t seem to make myself let go yet.
“You really picked a dress?”
Emotion flickered across her face instantly.
Soft.
Painful.
“Twice.”
That nearly dropped me.
“Twice?”
A watery laugh escaped her.
“The first one was ridiculous.”
I smiled before I could stop myself.
“What’d it look like?”
“So much lace.” She wiped quickly beneath her eyes.
Something tightened painfully inside my chest.
We never got any of it.
Sixteen stolen years.
Flick watched the realization hit me in real time.
“I used to picture our house,” she whispered softly.
Jesus.
“Flick…”
“No, let me say it.”
Her fingers curled gently into the front of my shirt.
“I pictured a wraparound porch because you always wanted one.” A shaky smile touched her mouth. “And a yellow kitchen.”
My heart physically hurt.
“You remember that?”
“You told me when you were seventeen.”
I stared at her.
Completely wrecked.
Because she remembered things I forgot I ever said.
Outside, thunder rolled low again.
But now the upstairs felt warm.
Full.
Alive.
Like maybe we were standing in the middle of all the life somebody stole from us.
Then downstairs?—
CRASH.
Flick jumped hard.
Yeah.
Probably Trigger.
I sighed heavily.
“We should go stop a homicide.”
She laughed softly through tears.
God.
That sound.
I’d missed that sound for half my life.
Before we could move toward the door, Flick suddenly caught my hand.
“Hersh.”
I turned immediately.
Fear flickered briefly across her face again.
Not cartel fear.
Different.
“What happens after this?”
Loaded question.
Because she wasn’t asking about tonight.
She was asking about us.
About whether this disappeared once the danger did.
Not happening.
I stepped back toward her slowly.
Lifted her hand.
Pressed one kiss against her knuckles.
“You really think I’m losing you again after finding out you wanted the yellow kitchen too?”
Emotion cracked across her face instantly.
And yeah?—
I was done for.
Completely.
Flick shook her head softly like she still couldn’t believe this was real.
Then quietly whispered:
“I still have the ring.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
“Your high school ring.” Her voice trembled slightly.
Sweet Jesus.
For a second I genuinely forgot how breathing worked.
“You kept it?”
Her eyes filled again.
“I wore it every night after I found the letters.”
That did it.
Absolutely wrecked me.
I kissed her again.
Harder this time.
Like I was trying to reclaim every lost year in one shot.
Downstairs, Vaughn screamed again.
Trigger yelled:
“OH NOW YOU WANNA TALK?”
Flick actually laughed against my mouth.
And honestly?
That might’ve been the moment I fell in love with her all over again.