She considers this, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest, careful to avoid my bandage. "My mother would think I've lost my mind."
"You said she was proud of you for following your oath," I remind her. "For saving me. Maybe she'd understand this too."
"Maybe," she concedes. "She always did tell me to follow my heart."
"And what's your heart saying?" I ask, suddenly holding my breath.
Rebecca looks up at me, a smile slowly spreading across her face. "It's saying I've spent my whole life playing it safe. Maybe it's time for an adventure."
"I can definitely promise you that," I laugh, pulling her closer.
"But a home too," she adds. "Somewhere solid. Somewhere ours."
"Roots and wings," I agree. "We can have both."
She kisses me then, soft and sweet, so different from our earlier passion but somehow just as powerful. When she pulls back, her eyes are bright with possibility.
"So we're doing this?" she asks. "Staying here, together?"
"I'm in if you are," I tell her. "One condition though."
"What's that?"
"You let me take you on a proper date once I can move without wincing. Dinner, movies, the whole thing."
She laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "James Thompson, are you trying to court me after the fact?"
"Damn right I am," I say, completely serious. "You deserve to be wooed properly. Just because we did things backward doesn't mean we can't do the rest right."
Her expression softens, and she curls into me, her body fitting perfectly against mine. "I'd like that. A lot."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, her head on my chest, my arm around her shoulders. Outside, I can hear the distant sounds of motorcycles, of life continuing in the clubhouse below. My brother is down there somewhere, with Maddie, building their own story. And here we are, Rebecca and I, starting ours.
"I need to tell you something," I say finally.
She looks up, concern crossing her features. "What is it?"
"I've never believed much in fate or destiny or any of that shit," I admit. "But meeting you, in the middle of that riot, when we both could have died a dozen different ways..." I shake my head, still amazed by the odds. "It makes me wonder."
"About?"
"About second chances. About whether some things are meant to be, even if the path to them is twisted as hell."
She smiles, reaching up to trace the line of my jaw with gentle fingers. "If this is fate, I'm glad it found us, even if the circumstances were less than ideal."
"Me too," I say, capturing her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. "Me too."
The forgotten breakfast sits cold on the table, the morning has stretched into afternoon, and my stitches are beginning to ache again. But none of that matters. What matters is this moment, this woman, this unexpected chance at a life I never thought I'd have.
I may be an escaped convict with an uncertain future, but for the first time in years, I feel truly free.
Epilogue - Rebecca
Eighteen months later
I smooth the satin of my dress, watching through the small window as guests find their seats beneath the flower-draped canopy. The late afternoon sun gilds everything in golden light, turning the lake behind the altar into a mirror of amber and rose.
My garden. My lake. Our home.
