Darcy is crying and screaming, and fuck it, I need to make a move now. I let the ropes fall to the ground and begin untying the ankle ties while Gwen is preoccupied with her dying father.
“Oh well, guess we get to keep the ransom money now.” I scramble to remove the last rope as she lifts the gun and points it at her father’s head. “I don’t think that’s salvageable. Bye, Daddy. Say hi to Mom.”
She pulls the trigger, and I launch up from my chair the same moment Callan emerges from the row on the right, and Riley emerges from the row on the left of Gwen. Both have guns pointing in her direction, but I don’t feel any relief because Gwen is unpredictable and crazy enough to shoot Callan out of spite.
“Help Darcy,” Callan says.
“Be careful.” I drop to my knees in front of the trembling little girl.
“Baby.” Gwen turns to Callan with an arrogant smile. “I knew you’d come to me.”
I ignore what’s happening behind me, trusting Callan and Riley to handle Gwen, because Darcy needs me. I don’t take the pods out of her ears. “It’s okay,” I say, giving her a quick hug. Holding her face in my hands, I say, “Daddy’s here, but just look at me. Keep your eyes on me. Only me.” She stares at me as I untie her feet with shaking hands while listening to the events unfolding behind me.
“Put the gun down, Gwen,” Callan says in a calm tone that must belie how he’s feeling.
“I need it to kill them. They got in the way before, but not this time, baby.”
“Stay back,” Riley shouts, and I stiffen as I race to untie Darcy’s wrists.
“I mean it, Gwen,” Callan says. “Put the gun down, or I’ll shoot.”
“You won’t shoot me. You love me.”
I throw myself at Darcy as a gunshot rings out, covering her body with mine and sheltering her ears. “Callan!” I call out as fear races through me.
“I’m okay. It’s over.”
The final rope falls away, and I lift Darcy into my arms, pushing her head into my neck as she clings to me and cries. Her legs wrap around my waist as I stand and turn around.
“Don’t look.” Callan wraps his arms around both of us as police sirens shrill in the distance. He steers us away, but not before I see Gwen lying flat on her back on the ground with a large hole in her forehead.
A sob tears unbidden from my mouth as we clutch Darcy between us. Callan hugs and kisses us. “It’s over, baby. It’s finally over. She can’t hurt us anymore.”
EPILOGUE
CALLAN – ONE YEAR LATER
“Nanny said it’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding,” Darcy says as we walk the path that leads to Whispering Cottage, where Astrid, Renee, and Paige are getting ready.
Pretty sure we’ve already encountered enough bad luck for one lifetime. “I believe the superstition is it’s bad luck to see the bride in herdressbefore the wedding, and Astrid won’t be wearing it until I see her walk up the aisle.”
Travis, Riley, Marlon, and I spent every weekend for two months building a large, decked area on the sandy shore of the southern side of the lake to host our marriage ceremony and wedding reception. It’s in the exact place where I’d previously installed a gazebo as a teenager to beg Astrid to be mine. It seems fitting that I’ll be marrying her in an hour in the same spot. I glance in that direction while holding my daughter’s hand as we walk toward the cottage, smiling when I spot some of our guests standing at the high tables in front of the bar accepting flutes of champagne.
Around the other side of the bar are five circular tables, decorated with crisp linens, candles, and flowers. The cateringcompany have a tent set off to one side, and their team is already busy at work.
The top of the decked area, behind a pretty flowered arch, hosts the raised section where the priest will marry us. Rows of white chairs, also adorned with floral decorations, reside in front of the ceremonial space, and a few guests are already seated.
Astrid truly outdid herself. Everything is picture-perfect.
Music drifts over the water, tickling our eardrums as the musicians we hired for the ceremony start setting up.
“I want to learn how to play the harp,” Darcy says, dragging me back into the moment.
“Yeah?”
“Nanny said it’s a traditional Irish instrument and not many people know how to play it anymore.”
I wonder if the harpist Astrid found for today provides private lessons. Ironically, she lives in Bennington, which is not exactly ideal, but if Darcy wants to learn the harp, I’ll move mountains to make it happen for her after the year she’s had.
