I stare down at it. The diamond catches the morning light and throws tiny rainbows across his chest. My hand looks different with it on. Like it belongs there. I can't talk.
My throat is locked up. He curls his fingers around mine, holding my hand against his heart so I feel it pounding again. "Marry me, Savannah." It's not a question. It's a demand wrapped in velvet.
I blink fast. Tears are already spilling over. "You... you bought this when?"
"Before the hit." His voice is rough. "Had it in my cut pocket the night I got shot. Figured if I made it out I'd put it on you the second I could. Then I almost didn't make it out. So I'm not waiting another fucking day."
I laugh through the tears, shaky and ugly. "You carried a ring into a gunfight?"
"Carried you in my head the whole time. Figured if I died I wanted you wearing it. If I lived... well." He lifts my hand, kisses the ring. "Here we are."
I stare at the diamond again. Then at him. His eyes are wet too, but he's not hiding it. No smirk. No cocky grin. Just raw, open Lucky.
"Yes," I whisper.
His breath catches. "Say it again."
"Yes." Louder this time. I grab his face with both hands, thumbs on his jaw. "Yes, I'll marry you. Yes, I'll have your babies. Yes to all of it."
He surges up, kisses me so hard our teeth click. Then he rolls us so he's on top again, pinning me under him, still half-hard inside me from earlier. His forehead presses to mine. "You're mine forever now," he says against my lips. "No take-backs. No running. No bullshit."
"Never." I wrap my legs around him tighter. "Put a baby in me right now. Seal the deal."
He laughs, low and dirty. "Fuck yes." He starts moving again, slower this time but deeper, like he's savoring every second. His hand finds mine, fingers interlocking so the ring presses between our palms. "Love you," he growls into my neck.
"Love you more, fiancé."
He groans at the word, thrusts harder. "Say it again."
"Fiancé." I clench around him on purpose. "My fiancé. Soon my husband. My baby daddy. Mine."
He loses it after that. We go at it again, messy and desperate, ring glinting every time our hands move. When we finish the second time I'm shaking, he's swearing under his breath, and we're both laughing like idiots.
He doesn't pull out right away. Just stays inside me, holding me close, staring at the ring on my finger like he can't believe it's real. "Shower," he finally says, voice wrecked. "Then we tell the club. Then we plan a wedding. Then we start on kid number one for real."
I grin up at him. "You're gonna knock me up before the honeymoon?"
"Damn right." He kisses me quick and filthy. "Now move, future Mrs. Kane. Round three's calling."
I laugh and let him pull me up. We stumble to the bathroom together, naked, ring sparkling, his hand possessive on my lower back the whole way.
TWENTY-THREE
SAVANNAH
The ringstill catches the light every time I move my hand, a tiny reminder that this life with Lucky is real. Three days of waking up tangled in him, of him kissing my ring finger like it's sacred, of the house feeling safe for once. I almost let myself believe nothing can touch me anymore. Except for those damn messages.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I freeze. My heart is already slamming as I reach for it slowly, like it might bite.
Unknown: Saw you in that black hoodie this morning. You looked cozy. Bet it smells like him. I’m patient. But I’m not gone.
My stomach lurches. He saw me? This morning. Must have been while I was in the driveway, wearing nothing but Lucky’s hoodie.
I stare until the screen blurs. My thumb shakes over the block button. Fuck, why haven’t I blocked them yet?
The bedroom door opens and Lucky walks in, grease still on his forearms from the garage, and an easy grin on his face. “Morning, gorgeous. Coffee’s almost—”
He stops mid-step when he sees me frozen with the phone. The grin drops. He crosses the room in three strides, plucks the phone from my hand before I can react. His eyes scan the screen. The air changes. Like someone sucked all the oxygen out. “What the fuck?” he roars. Voice low and dangerous. He looks up at me, eyes blazing. “Who the fuck is this? And why are they texting you?”
