Oh Christ, I love her.
I don’t think. I don’t give Kosta a chance to beg. I ready my knife and growl, “Interesting fashion choice, Orlov. But that stiletto just needs a little adjustment.”
I shove the shoe in deeper, and he gurgles blood. Fallon can have the assist on this one.
“You’re going to die today, Orlov, because of what you did tomysweet Fallon, you filthy piece of shite.” I’m filled with loathing and fury as I meet his eyes. Using my knife, I slice what’s left of his throat so deep that his headpractically falls off. “This is for Fallon. Fallon. Fallon. Fallon fucking Nova.”
I push the monster’s bloody carcass aside and stand, taking several deep breaths as I return to my human settings.
From where I am, I can tell Fallon didn’t see what I just did. It might help her to see him dead, but I won’t let her, not without his head. I dislodge Fallon’s shoe and pick up Orlov’s body. Howling, I haul it onto the engine’s flames, hoping he’ll be burnt to dust by the time the firemen show up.
“Troopers inbound,” Balor’s voice booms from the comm. “ETA five minutes. Cloaking engaged.”
“All cameras in the area have been wiped,” Shane says. “Those Empire cars have fake registrations.”
“Is this yours?” I hold up the shoe before hoisting Fallon into my arms.
“Yes.” Her arms loop tight around my neck. “But I don’t want it.”
“I’ll burn it with these horrible clothes you’re wearing when we get home.” I kiss her nose. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Lachlan’s voice roars over the chaos from the helicopter and the engulfed SUV, “We’re not waiting for a cleanup crew. Get on the bird now! All of you.”
The flames roar higher, and I feel the intense heat on my back as I carry Fallon away from the wreckage. I set her gently into the chopper, her fingers gripping mine.
Trace crushes in beside me, and we lift off, rotors screaming, wind howling.
The carnage below shrinks with every meter we lift higher into the air. The fire and twisted metal dissolve into a white blur.
Trace leans close, his voice low over the headset. “She okay?”
I look at Fallon. Hair wild, dress torn and full of blood, eyes blazing even through the exhaustion. I ignore the bruises because they’re her coat of armor.
She’s fucking tough, my woman.
“She’s okay,” I say, my voice steady, fierce, and final. It’s a vow, not a report. “And she’s mine. Forever.”
Chapter 57
Rhys
The helicopter bucks in the crosswind, the roar of the rotors competing with the rhythm of my heart. Lachlan O’Rourke shouts into his headset, assuring his wife he’s all right. My Quinlan cousins and Trace keep watch out of the open hatch, but none of it affects me.
Inside the cabin, it’s a cocoon of heat with Fallon pressed against me on the bench, wrapped in my jacket. Her skin is ice-cold, her fingers locked around mine, but everything is slowly warming.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I let myself believe she’s really here.
Her hazel eyes are alive. Fragile. Beautiful.
I press my forehead to hers, just breathing her in. For a second, the whole world fades away.
Everything is just Fallon. Just me.
“You’re safe,” I whisper. “I’ve got you, love.”
She turns her head slightly, her lips brushing the edge of my jaw as she murmurs, “You left me.”
