Chapter 52
Sunset
The fire crackled high into the twilight, sparks drifting upward into the velvet sky, chasing stars.
Someone had dug into the sand and stacked the driftwood just right—of course it was Zach, Lena realized with a smile, watching him toss a last piece onto the blaze and step back like a man completing a military operation.
The bonfire roared its approval, golden light haloing the circle of beach chairs arranged haphazardly around it.
Lena stood shoulder to shoulder with David outside the ring, the toes of her bare feet buried in still-warm sand. His hand was a gentle anchor on the small of her back. It made her pulse skip in a sweet, addictive way.
From the other side of the fire, Kate raised her enamel mug with a theatrical flair. “To Lena, the only person alive who could survive a stalker, fling grenades at the saboteur with her eyes closed—”
“It was one sabotage attempt, not urban warfare,” Lena called, laughing.
Kate ignored her: “—and somehow turn down Zach’s alphabetized onboarding packet without dying of fear!”
Even Zach cracked the barest smirk at that, though Lena wasn’t sure it reached his eyes, even if it was more emotion than he usually displayed. Marguerite hooted with reckless glee, tugging on Nick’s arm like a mischievous older sister rather than his self-appointed mother.
Nick stood, glass in hand. He raised it with practiced charm. “To Lena, for officially taking on the FOM position and surviving the gut-wrenching bureaucratic hell that is onboarding at Ivory Tower Resorts—”
“Which I intend to revise,” Lena quirked an eyebrow at David.
His glasses glinted from the flicker of the fire. “Noted. But it’s tradition,” he murmured near her ear.
She tipped her head toward him, her hair brushing his jaw. “So is karaoke, and I plan to make you suffer.”
“I have no doubt,” he smirked.
Lena tipped her head toward Zach. “Hey, Zach. Before I forget—thanks.”
Zach’s brows lifted a fraction. “For what?”
“For training me. For not letting me quit when it sucked. For giving me the tools to face Chester.”
“You held your own,” he said, like it was nothing.
She glowed like he had handed her a medal. “Still. Thanks.”
He stared into the fire a beat longer than necessary, then grunted, “Since the immediate threat has passed, we can scale back the daily PT.”
Relief hit her so hard she almost laughed. “Oh, my god. Thank you.”
Zach’s mouth twitched. “You’ll just join the family sessions instead.”
Lena blinked. “Family sessions.”
“Family training,” he clarified. “Sundays. 5 am.”
The words didn’t land at first. Then they did. “Five?” she croaked. “As in… before the sun exists?”
A cough came from David’s direction that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
Lena turned her head slowly toward David, eyes narrowed. “Whose dumb idea was 5 am?”
Zach didn’t even look at David. “His.”
David lifted his hands, completely unrepentant. “In my defense, sunrise builds character. Welcome to the family.”
She stared at him. “I am reconsidering this relationship.”
He grinned. “Too late, Spark. You said you loved me.”
Nick choked on his beer. Zach smirked. Even Logan laughed.
Lena groaned and dropped her head onto David’s shoulder. “I’m going to murder you at 4:59,” she muttered, and the circle broke into laughter like the fire itself had sparked it.
Kate picked that moment to launch into an intentionally terrible version of Escape (The Pina Colada Song), dragging Marguerite up by the hands while Nick sheepishly followed, grinning like a crazy man on a death march.
Lena laughed with everyone else, as one badly rendered song followed another, until Kate slipped away and appeared next to her. “Holding up okay?”
Lena smiled without looking away from the fire. “You psychic now?”
“Yes, actually. But I don’t need empathy to know what it feels like when the adrenaline wears off.”
Kate sank down beside her. They sat in companionable silence for a few beats; the kind shared by people who’ve both survived something ugly.
“Chester’s gone,” Lena said, the words strange in her mouth. “Really gone. Arrested. Out of my space. Out of my head… mostly.”
Kate nodded. “It doesn’t feel the way you thought it would, does it?”
Lena exhaled. “No. I thought I’d feel victorious. Free. But all I feel is… hollow. Like I spent so long bracing for impact, I don’t know what to do with normal.”
Kate leaned over and bumped her shoulder. “Normal isn’t the end. It’s just the part where you breathe again.”
Lena blinked back the sudden sting in her eyes.
“I used to think I was strong because I kept surviving,” she admitted. “But maybe strength means recognizing when to stop running.”
Kate nudged her shoulder against Lena’s. “And when to let someone else prop you up for a while.”
“I’ve never been good at that part.”
“You’re getting there,” Kate smiled. “You’ve got David, Zach, Nick. Me. We’re your people now.”
Lena let Kate’s statement settle.
“I thought I was alone for a long time,” she whispered.
Kate tilted her head. “You’re not.”
Lena smiled, small and true.
When Minx appeared out of nowhere and launched herself into Lena’s lap like a furry cannonball, neither of them flinched.
They just laughed.
The moon was high over the beach, casting silver light across the sand and surf. The bonfire embers still glowed in the pit, but the laughter had quieted, the party winding down.
Lena leaned into David’s side. The sea breeze wafted over her skin, fragrant with salt and firewood.
“This still feels like a dream,” Lena whispered.
David turned to face her, his features dim in the firelight but no less dear. “Good. That means the nightmare part is over.”
Her heart stuttered at the quiet conviction in those words. “You think so?”
“I know so,” he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear with more tenderness than the night sky could contain. “You’re not running anymore. You chose to stay.” His gaze searched her face. “With me. Here.”
“I did.” Her throat tightened. “It’s strange. All my life, I thought I wanted safety. A predictable job, good benefits. No one asking questions.”
“And now?” he breathed.
“I want mornings where I steal your shirt and your coffee…” His brows rose in amused protest, but she continued. “…and evenings with beach bonfires and awful karaoke. I want to live, not just survive—I want to belong. With you. With all this madness.”
David kissed her like the ocean reaching for shore—unhurried but inevitable. It made her knees weak with its truth.
Cheers erupted near the fire where Zach—Zach of all people—was being forced up for karaoke by a tag-team of Kate and Marguerite. Lena blinked at the sight and grabbed David’s hand.
“Wait. I have to see this.”
He chuckled and let her pull him forward, their fingers intertwined.
She half-expected Zach to recite tactical manuals instead of lyrics, but with a grumble and a roll of his eyes that somehow looked both terrifying and tragic, he took the mic Kate was trying to force into his hands.
The opening bars of Here Comes the Sun floated out over the surf.
Lena leaned on David’s shoulder, heart full.
He nudged her temple with his lips. “Welcome home.”
She claimed it. Not because the nightmares were over. Not because she’d been awarded a title or a desk with her name on it.
But because she had been chosen. Again and again. And she had chosen back.
The stars above them burned bright, but they weren’t as warm as the firelight flickering through the ring of found family gathered on the beach.
Certainly not as warm as the man at her side.
The storm hadn’t passed.
But this time, Lena knew she wasn’t facing it alone.