"Don't be."
"I just—I spent so long not letting myself feel it. Staying focused. Staying angry. And now?—"
"Now you can let go."
She looked at him. Her eyes were red, her face blotchy, her hair a mess from pressing against his chest.
She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"I love you," he said.
The words came out before he could stop them. Before he could calculate the risk or weigh the consequences or do any of the things he'd been trained to do.
She stared at him.
"Ronan—"
"I know the timing is terrible. It’s only been three weeks since we met. I know that tomorrow everything changes, and neither of us knows what comes after." He cupped her face in his hands. "But I need you to know. Before the chaos starts. I love you."
She kissed him.
Soft at first, then fierce. Her hands fisted in his shirt. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.
When they broke apart, her forehead rested against his.
"I love you too," she said. "For the record."
He laughed. A real laugh, the kind he hadn't heard from himself in years.
"Noted."
They sat together as the sun finished setting, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her waist. The first stars appeared over the Gulf. Somewhere in the distance, a band was doing a sound check for tomorrow's celebration.
Tomorrow, Warren Caldwell would be arrested. Tomorrow, Chief Fielding would be led away in handcuffs. Tomorrow, the town would wake up to discover that everything they'd trusted was built on lies.
But tonight, there was this. Two people who'd found each other in the middle of a war, holding on to what mattered most.
"Stay with me tonight," Lila said.
"I'm not going anywhere."
She stood and took his hand.
They walked inside together and closed the door on the gathering dark.
Chapter Fourteen
Lila led him through the back door and into the house she'd grown up in.
The kitchen was dark except for the light over the stove, the one her mother always left on. She didn't turn on anything else. Didn't need to. She knew this house by heart—every creaking floorboard, every shadow.
Ronan's hand was warm in hers as she pulled him through the living room, past the photos on the mantel, past her father's reading chair. She didn't look at any of it. Not tonight.
Tonight was for the living.
Her bedroom was at the end of the hall. She'd redecorated it years ago, but some things remained. The window overlooked the backyard. The ceiling fan that wobbled on high speed. The bed where she'd spent so many nights staring at the ceiling, wondering if she was losing her mind.
She wasn't. She'd never been.
