Epilogue
Thea
Three weeks later
“I’m home!” I yell, slamming the door to the garage.
Two men sit around the table in almost the same place I left them this morning. My dad and Boris Ivanov, his doctor friend from Russia. Pierce leans against the counter, chugging a glass of water.
This is a sight I could get used to. If I could just convince him to walk around shirtless…
Pierce pushes off the counter and stalks toward me until we are inches apart. He slips his hands around my waist, pressing me in close. “How was your first day back at work?”
“It was good, but,”—I bite my bottom lip—“honestly… kinda boring. I didn’t get mugged, kidnapped, or shot at today.”
“And you never will again.” He speaks in a low, dangerous murmur.
“Is that really a promise you can make?” I tease.
His grip around my waist tightens. “Yes.”
“How was your first day working with your grandpa?” After much consideration, he decided to work at his grandfather’s private security firm and is no longer a spy.
Or so I’m told. They’ve been hush-hush about it, but I don’t care.
I’m so happy to see him willingly rebuilding a relationship with his family.
He nods. “We’re figuring it out.”
“Have I told you I’m proud of you?”
“To the point of obsession.” He lowers his head to mine, bypassing my lips to run his over my ear.
I shiver. “I like seeing you happy.”
“You make me happy.” He punctuates his words with a kiss that makes my knees buckle, and my dad clear his throat at least twice. I smile as I turn toward them. Pierce wraps his arms around me from behind.
“Have you guys come to a decision?” I ask.
Boris has been here for the last three weeks working on the final contract for the formula.
After the craziness that ensued and Gavin Johnson, Andi, Cole and others being arrested, they decided to do some more research before proceeding with the sale of the formula.
They decided they either needed to destroy it, or use it for its original purpose, in therapy, or working backward to restore memory loss.
“We have made a decision,” my dad says, sitting back in his chair with a smile.
He’s been better the last month since detoxing from the memory altering drugs Andi gave him weekly.
Less memory lapses, and he even seems stronger.
I believe part of that has come from working with an old friend and feeling useful again.
I’m grateful for it. I was worried at first that Boris would be like the men who chased us down.
Instead, I’ve come to love his nerdy humor and his innate desire to better the world.
And I trust him. “I’m no longer selling, because I’m going to Russia. ”
My jaw drops. “Sorry, what?”
“He’s going to help me change the world,” Boris says. A phrase I’ve heard no less than nine thousand times in the last three weeks.
“I-I didn’t even know your going to Russia was an option.” I look at Pierce for help, but he doesn’t say anything. He grabs my hand and squeezes, offering me silent comfort when I want loud opposition. “Did you know about this?”
“Hear them out.” He squeezes my hand again.
I turn to my dad, waiting for him to explain this lunacy. I can’t just uproot my life to move to Russia.
Dad stands and comes over to me. “We tried it out.”
I frown, already not liking where this is going. “What do you mean?”
“We reversed the formula… and we tried it out.”
Dread sinks like a brick in my stomach. “Who was the guinea pig?”
“Me, of course.”
“Dad, no. What if something horrible had happened? Why did you do that without telling me?”
His smile softens. “You would have stopped me. But it worked.”
“How?”
Pierce releases me, and my dad grabs my arms. “When Gavin used the drug on me, I forgot I planned on turning him in. I forgot the accident. I forgot where we went to celebrate that night. Now… I remember. I remember your mother’s laughter as they sang to her in the restaurant, and how I planned to go to Russia all along to reverse this drug. ” He blinks back tears.
I know what it’s like to forget… and then remember. I’m happy for him, even if I’m still scared. I wrap my arms around him, sobbing like a child.
“I’ve been given a second shot at life, and I want to help Boris run the necessary tests to get our memory-restoring drug on the market. Imagine how many people this will help.”
I can, and it makes me cry harder.
“Okay,” I say finally, pulling back and wiping my eyes. “So we go to Russia.”
“No.” He shakes his head, holding me at an arm’s length. “I go to Russia. Well, Megan too. She says it will be great book research.”
This keeps getting worse.
He’s leaving me here with no purpose. “Who am I supposed to take care of?”
His eyes crinkle, and a soft smile finds his lips. “Yourself.”
I’m still learning how to do that. “Will you be back?”
“In a year or two, depending on how the testing goes.”
A year or two. I can do that. This will be good for him. For us. “Are you sure it won’t be too much?”
“I’m better than ever. I even promised Megan I’d do yoga everyday.” He presses a kiss to my cheek and turns to the table. “I’m finally going to do what I dreamed of years ago.”
Pierce grabs my hand again, and I cave into him. The tears don’t seem to quit, and he wraps his arms around me, holding me upright.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I whisper.
“I think…” he says, slipping out of my grasp. “You’re supposed to marry me.” He drops to his knee.
I stare at the beautiful man he is, and my vision blurs as he slips a ring box out of his pocket.
“Thea, you fixed me in every way I thought I was broken. You gave me hope and love. You wanted to know what you taught me… It was this. I’m not a perfect man, and I never will be.
I’m finally content with that. You make me more than I’ve ever been.
Loving you is my new life mission. Will you marry me? ”
I cover my mouth with my hands, choking on tears. “Yes.”
He slips the ring onto my finger and swoops me into his arms, pressing a kiss to my lips.
Cheers erupt, and I laugh at the roller coaster ride the last twenty minutes has been. “Am I crazy for marrying a stranger?”
“It’s been a month.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “I’m officially upgrading us to best friends.”
“We should get matching tattoos to celebrate.”
“Let’s keep our options open.” He presses another kiss to my lips. “I’ve already booked us a honeymoon.”
“Please don’t say Mexico.” The charges were dropped, but I have no desire to return.
“What if I said a cruise?”
“Then I’d say where to, Mr. Larsen?”
He chuckles. “We’re taking a plane this time.”
“Where?”
“The Bahamas.”
I raise an eyebrow. This seems too good to be true when Pierce is still in the protection business. “No action, adventure, or running for our lives?”
“Well, maybe a little action,” he murmurs, his lips against my neck. “It is our honeymoon, after all.”
A delicious thrill runs through me, heating my blood. “I’m getting used to the adventure.”