She laughs, and I kiss the corner of her mouth, holding on to her for just another moment before I scoot forward in my chair. “Come on. Let’s get you warm.”
Carefully, I stand, lifting her in my arms. She curls into me instinctively, her hands tucked under her chin, the blankets wrapped around both of us as I carry her back through the sliding door.
Dillon and Chance are still dead to the world, sprawled like two overgrown wolves protecting their den. I lower her gently onto the bed between them.
Chance, even in his sleep, reacts immediately, like his body recognizes hers even when his brain is offline. His arm shoots out, hooking around her waist and pulling her into his chest on instinct.
He doesn’t even open his eyes. Just tucks his face into her hair like he’s been waiting for her. Something warm and fierce unfurls in my chest as I watch him, because even unconscious, even wounded, Chance guards her.
Dillon shifts too, rolling slightly toward her, one hand brushing her calf before settling near her hip protectively and instinctively, but subtle. That’s our dynamic in a nutshell. Chance shields. Dillon steadies. I anchor.
“Boone?” Roxie whispers.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Thank you for finding me.”
My throat tightens, my heart suddenly pounding like it’s gone wild. “Always.”
Her breathing eases, deepening as her body finally lets go of the adrenaline still surging through her. Within moments, she’s asleep, but I stay awake a little longer, listening to their breathsand letting the soft sounds they make reassure me that they’re all still here.
The world tried to take everything from us tonight, but we all made it out alive. My family. Our little miracles.
And by the time I finally drift off, I’m already working on putting all the drama with Caruso behind us. Our real lives together start now, and I’m pretty fucking excited to finally get to it.
32
CHANCE
Three days after the attack, we finally go home. I drive, and Roxie sits in the passenger seat, bundled in one of Boone’s jackets, staring out at the snow-heavy pines.
Dillon and Boone follow us in Dillon’s truck. They came back yesterday to grab it so we can stock up at the hardware store, but none of us have set foot inside the house.
On our way out of town, Roxie and I stop for groceries, mostly as an excuse to buy ourselves ten extra minutes of normal before we drive up the mountain. Dillon and Boone make the rounds, picking up supplies we ordered to start repairs on the house.
Eventually we can’t stall any longer. Tires crunch on the snow as I drive up the long driveway. The tightness in my chest winds like barbed wire as I look up at our house.
From the outside, it looks so normal. Perfectly, horrifyingly so. The cedar porch with the lights still strung up from when Dillon insisted we get festive early.
If I didn’t know any better, I would almost think nothing had happened here. But I do know better.
Crime scene tape still flaps weakly on the porch. Yellow ribbons waving hello like the worst welcome committee ever. The cops are done, the Feds have cleared the site, and we’re told we can begin repairs.
When we roll all the way up the drive, I put the car in park, but I don’t move. My hands stay locked on the wheel, my knuckles aching from the grip. My pulse hammers so hard my fingertips tingle, but it’s not that I’m afraid of the house, or the memories, or even the motherfucking mob.
No, what pins me in place is the thing I felt inside me during the fight. That switch. The familiar click of that darkness I warned Boone about. The version of me that doesn’t feel fear or mercy, it just starts doing math. Constantly calculating angles and threats.
End them before they end you.
I didn’t lose control that night, but God, I came close. If Roxie didn’t appear exactly when she did, I would have, and stepping back into the place where that part of me stretches, hungry and ready… I don’t know what it would have done to me.
Will it wake up again? Will it stay awake this time?
A soft touch on my arm breaks through the spiral. Roxie’s hand is gentle as she gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Chance?”
I look over to find that she’s turned fully toward me, her vibrant green eyes warm, steady, and filled with understanding. She gives me a small, genuine smile. “We don’t have to do this today if you’re not ready.”
She means it. Fuck, I can see the sincerity in her gaze. If I put the car in reverse right now, she’d just nod and hold my hand the whole drive back down the mountain.
