“That’s it,” Evianna says. “Wren, will you marry me?”
“Send us everything.” I grab the phone and double-tap the power button to hang up the call. Turning to Evianna, I take her hands. “I love you. And after that prick Tased me, I thought I’d lost you. I don’t ever want to be without—”
A brisk knock cuts me off, followed by Decker’s gritty voice, roughened by age. “Holloway, what the fuck have you gotten caught up in this time?”
37
Evianna
A little past 4:00 a.m., someone wakes me with a gentle hand to my shoulder. “Ms. Archer?”
I blink up at him, not understanding where I am or who this kindly, older man is. “Dax?” I croak, suddenly terrified our escape was all a dream, and the lumpy couch I’m stretched out on isn’t real. Maybe I’m dying. Maybe—
“He’s right across the hall. They’re just wrapping things up with him. Louie Stein was shot dead by two uniforms an hour ago, and Noah Goset was killed when he tried to run across a busy street and got pancaked by a bus. We’re still searching for Barry Nolan, but he won’t be able to hide for long.”
Sitting up, I bite down on my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. I’ve cried enough in the past twelve hours. My eyes burn, and they’re swollen to twice their normal size. “You’re…sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Now I remember him. Detective Decker. Not more than two minutes after Dax and I arrived at the police station, they separated us. Questioned us for hours, made us repeat our stories half a dozen times. When Decker was satisfied, he led me to this empty office and told me he’d come get me when they were done with Dax.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Come on. I’ll take you to Dax.” He holds out his hand, and I let him help me to my feet.
As soon as the door across from me opens, I see him. He looks so tired. But still proud. Still strong. “Dax?”
He’s up and out of the chair in a heartbeat, feeling his way around the table until he reaches me. Nothing, in my entire life, has ever felt so right than being in his arms.
“Let’s get out of here, darlin’. I need you…alone.”
Ronan and Vasquez take us back to the Fairmont and promise us that they’ll be at either end of the hall until Clive and Ella relieve them in the morning.
I lock the door, and then lead Dax into the bathroom. “Come on, soldier. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Steam surrounds us, and I strip off Dax’s torn and stained shirt, kissing each bruise. Skimming my fingers over the cuts on his wrists, the gashes on his head, I say, “You should have gone to the hospital.”
“Would have kept me away from you,” he replies, his voice rough and strained. Pulling off my bloody tank, he reaches around me to unhook my bra. “Nothing…will ever keep me away from you, darlin’. Not again.”
I undo his belt, then let his pants fall to the floor so I can strip off his briefs. His cock stands at attention, the tip already glistening, and despite the exhaustion, the pain, and the tears, my core heats, and arousal floods me.
“Get in. Let me get this stuff off the floor and I’ll join you.”
Dax threads his fingers through my hair and brushes a gentle kiss to my lips. “I don’t know what angel smiled on me the day I met you, darlin’. Or why. But you are…perfect. You’re my everything. My only. And I love you.”
I can’t respond. I almost lost him, and every time I close my eyes, I see the blood seeping from his side. See him spasming on the ground after Louie tasered him.
“Evianna?”
“I’ll…be right there. I promise.” Sweeping the clothes under the sink where he won’t trip over them, I follow him into the shower, wrap my arms around him from behind, and lay my cheek against his shoulder blade. “I love you, Dax. I…didn’t want to tell you in the middle of that room. I wanted…” Swallowing my sob, I tighten my hold on him to stop him from turning. I don’t want to see his face right now. I have to get this out while I can.
“I wanted to take you somewhere special…to me. Show you with…words. Let you…know me. More…of me.”
Dax wraps his fingers around my wrists and carefully loosens my grip. His cock nestles against my stomach, hard and hot, and he eases me under the water. Running his hands through my hair, he groans softly. “You smell like freesia. And you’re so soft. And so…strong. You’re brilliant. During times of extreme stress, you respond one of three ways. You joke. You narrow your focus to only what needs to be done. Or you turn your attention to others. Take care of them. Like me. Like now. I know you, Evianna. I know you.”
We take our time. Washing away the blood, the stale lingering odor from that dingy room. The last vestiges of the drug still lingering along the edges of my mind.
And when we fall into bed, we’re both asleep in seconds.
