"You can't promise that. Can't promise you'll be okay."
"You're right. I can't. But I can promise I'll be careful, that I'll trust you to keep me safe, that I won't take stupid risks." My hands frame his face. "And I can promise that no matter what happens, I love you. Always."
He pulls me into his arms, holding me so tight I can barely breathe. "If anything happens to you tomorrow, if he hurts you or worse, I'll tear him apart with my bare hands. Fuck the law, fuck the consequences. He'll pay."
"I believe you." And I do. "But it's not going to come to that. Because you're the best at what you do, and what you do is protect people you love."
"Protecting you has become my full-time job."
"Good thing you're overqualified for it."
Despite everything, he laughs. "How do you do that? Make everything seem manageable even when it's clearly not?"
"Survival mechanism. Panic later, function now." I pull him toward the bed. "Now come here. We've got one night before tomorrow's operation, and I plan to make the most of it."
"Yeah? What've you got in mind?"
"I'm thinking multiple orgasms, some extremely dirty talk, and you reminding me exactly why I'm fighting to stay alive."
His eyes darken. "I can work with that."
He proceeds to do exactly that, taking me apart with hands and mouth and cock until I'm boneless and satisfied. And when we finally sleep, tangled together in the darkness, I let myself believe that tomorrow will work out.
That we'll get Vance, end the threat, and move forward with our lives.
Because the alternative, the possibility that tomorrow could be the last time I see Mason, the last time I feel his arms around me, that's not acceptable.
So I'll believe in happy endings.
Even if I have to fight like hell to make them real.
Chapter 15
Ice Pick
The morning of the Vance interview, I wake before dawn with Ava curled against me, her breathing deep and even. For a moment I just lie there, memorizing the feel of her, the way she fits perfectly in my arms, the sound of her heartbeat against my chest. If something goes wrong today, if this all goes sideways and I lose her, I want to remember this moment.
Her eyes flutter open, immediately finding mine. "You're staring."
"Memorizing."
"That's ominous." But she doesn't pull away, just presses closer. "What time is it?"
"Five. We've got three hours before we need to leave."
"Then we've got time." Her hand slides down my stomach, wrapping around my already hard cock. "I need you one more time before we do this."
I don't argue, just roll her beneath me and proceed to worship every inch of her body. It's slower than last night, more deliberate, each touch a promise and a prayer. When I finally push inside her, we're both trembling with need.
"I love you," I say against her mouth. "No matter what happens today, remember that."
"Nothing's going to happen. We're going to be fine." But her voice shakes on the words.
I make love to her with every ounce of emotion I've got, pouring years of loneliness and fear and desperate hope into every stroke. She meets me perfectly, taking everything I give and offering her own vulnerability in return. When we come together, it's with whispered declarations and promises neither of us is sure we can keep.
After, lying in the wreckage of tangled sheets, she traces the scar on my side. "I'm scared."
"Good. Scared keeps you sharp."
