The word hits me like a collapsing roof, but it isn’t over. Not as far as I’m concerned. She mentions everyone except one. “What about Tessa?” I ask. “Was she involved after all?”
Agent Mitchell nods, not softening in the least. “We’ve got her, too. She’ll be charged as an accessory, and we’ve got enough to convict. She won’t see freedom for a very long time.”
My knees buckle, but Boone catches me before I hit the floor. Sarah reaches out and squeezes my arm, sending me what I guess is supposed to be a comforting smile before she turns around and starts barking orders at her subordinates.
The next five minutes is a flutter of activity. Paramedics taking my blood pressure and shining a light in my eyes. I finally wave him away and tell him I’m not hurt.
“It’s a through-and-through,” the paramedic next to Chance adds. “You got lucky.”
It turns out Dillon has a few bruises, and Boone picked up a cut along his forearm he doesn’t even notice. Then, almost as quickly as they came, everyone leaves. Tape goes up, and Sarah tells us they’ll be back tomorrow. Then the house is quiet again.
A couple of uniformed officers remain behind, but I barely even notice them as I turn to survey the carnage. Glass glitters across the floors, and the couch is a shredded corpse.
Two bullet holes mark the doorway like punctuation marks to the worst sentence ever written. Boone sinks to the floor, and Dillon slides down the wall beside him, while Chance sits on the arm of the ruined couch, his bandaged arm resting in his lap.
He looks at me properly for the first time since the shooting stops, his voice ragged and a little hoarse. “You are never leaving my sight again.”
I let out a shaky, tired laugh. “Overprotective much?”
“Absolutely,” he replies without a single hint of apology. “Life is going to be boring from now on. I’m talking aggressively boring. Painfully boring, and I’m gonna love every minute of it.”
Dillon snorts. Boone laughs, and I sag down on the floor between them. Exhausted, aching, and still shaking, I let all three of them pull me in for a group hug.
We’re alive. The babies are safe. And the men I love survive a nightmare just to give us all the future we so desperately want.
“Boring sounds utterly fucking perfect to me,” I finally murmur, resting my head against Dillon’s shoulder while Chance wraps an arm around my waist. “Seriously. I can’t wait. What do you guys say we start living that way right now?”
31
BOONE
Idon’t even wait for the last cruiser to pull away. “We’re not staying here tonight.”
Chance opens his mouth, but I’m not interested in hearing any arguments. Not tonight. Roxie looks like she’s barely holding it together, all of us piled together on the floor like marionettes with our strings cut as the cops outside get themselves sorted out for the night.
“We’ll pack the essentials and go,” I say, firmly enough to slice through the noise in everyone’s heads. “I’m freezing in here and it’s been a damn long night. I’m not sleeping in a house full of holes with busted locks and blood on the floor.”
None of them disagree.
One by one, the guys and I get up. Dillon extends a hand toward Roxie and pulls her to her feet.
Faint voices filter in from outside, police officers still doing whatever they do before settling in for the night to keep watch. Chance and I grab the go-bags we packed earlier just in case, and Dillon helps Roxie gather some stuff.
She’s shaking too hard to even remember where she put her prenatal vitamins, but eventually Chance helps her wrap up while Dillon goes to get his own bag. I check the doors that are still in one piece, compiling a list I share with the cops. Then I lock up everything that can be locked while the officers who will stay behind start taping up windows.
“I’m driving,” Chance says when we finally pile into the truck.
I give his bandaged arm a pointed look, but he rolls his eyes and climbs in behind the wheel. Dillon and Roxie get in the back seat, and Dillon monitors the scanner the whole way into town.
Roxie sits pressed against him, small and quiet as she stares out the window like the darkness still has teeth. By the time we reach the only decent hotel in town, I’m one frayed nerve away from carrying her inside caveman-style.
The older lady behind the front desk jumps a little when we walk in, blinking like she’s sure we’re a mirage, but then she clears her throat, slaps on a grin, and stands. “Good evening, folks. It’s a bit late to be checking in, but I’ve got some rooms for you.”
“The suite,” Dillon says immediately. “Please and thank you.”
She blinks a few more times, peering at him over the glasses perched on the end of her nose, but she nods when she realizes he’s serious. “Certainly. You’re lucky I’ve got one available.”
She pushes paperwork across the desk, getting our keys ready while he hastily fills out the forms. The suite she gives us isn’t much, just two double beds, a threadbare couch, and a kitchenette, but it’s clean, warm, and, more importantly, safe.
