Page 46 of Monsters and Mocha

“If it weren’t for Raven, I don’t think we would have found you.” Fitz was looking at the bird, shaking his head slowly.

“What do you mean?”

“When you disappeared from the hospital, none of us knew where to look. We didn’t know where you could have gone, much less who could have taken you. Lacey was already accounted for, and no one was looking for Fransten because he had told some of the nursing staff that he was stepping out for the afternoon. Raven must have seen him take you from the back doors, because he wouldn’t stop pestering us until we followed him. Robertson thought we were crazy—I thought we were crazy—until we heard you scream.”

Darby shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut and doing her best to lock away the gruesome memories. A sudden thought struck her, and she opened her eyes again. “What happened to Fransten? Is he dead?”

Fitz’s expression darkened. His jaw was tight, and he squeezed both hands into fists. “Unfortunately, no, though he likely had a nasty headache when he woke up. Robertson volunteered to stay with him while we moved you to safety. He’s apparently got some friends on the police force, and he knew the right people to call.”

She let out a long exhale. “But he’s been arrested?”

Fitz grabbed her hand. “I think it’s safe to say he won’t be seeing anything but the inside of a jail cell for the rest of his life. He certainly won’t be able to practice medicine.”

The comment struck something deep and painful in Darby’s chest. She looked down at her hand. “Neither will I.”

The reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks, the tears started spilling before she could blink them away. Fitz shifted closer, pulling her to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. He pressed a shaky kiss to her temple. “I’m so sorry, Darby. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you faster.”

She took a shuddering breath to compose herself. “It’s alright,” she tried bravely. “There’s more to life than medicine. I just have to find it. Besides.” She leaned back just far enough to hold up her hand between them. “Now we match.”

He chuckled, holding his metal hand up to her own, aligning their fingertips. “So we do. We’ll figure it out, Darby.”

Darby examined their hands, comparing the mechanics now that they were side-by-side. “Did you use the same plans?” she asked Henry.

“I did. Raven brought them out from wherever he had stowed them away. I tried to follow them as well as I could, but your penmanship could really use some work.”

That pulled a laugh from her. Darby dried her cheeks. “Merry?”

“He’s staying with Robertson for now,” Fitz answered. “They’re an odd pairing—like a grumpy old guard dog and an exuberant puppy—but they seemed to have hit it off. Robertson still has military connections, and they were very interested to hear about Merry’s unique skills and granted him an extended leave, on the condition that he apply to the Academy in the spring and return to active duty upon the completion of his studies. He said you were going to write him a letter of recommendation?”

Darby nodded. “He wanted one from you as well, but I didn’t want to promise it before I talked to you about it. And then the break-in happened and, well…it rather slipped my mind. But you’ll write one for him?”

Fitz pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head. The steady ticking of his heart under her ear was reassuring, and she slipped her arms around his waist, eliminating any extra space between them.

“He saved you. I’ll write him as many letters as he wants.”

“Add me to that list, if the word of a coffeehouse owner means anything.” Henry patted her leg before rising.

Darby angled her face to give him a smile. “If it doesn’t, it should. The Academy wouldn’t produce even half the graduates it does without the support of coffee.”

He chuckled as he collected her empty dishes and slipped out of the room, leaving them both alone. They were quiet for a moment, and Darby allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of Fitz’s arms around her, holding her like she was something cherished that he wanted to protect. “I love you,” she whispered contentedly.

“I love you.” He pulled back, hooking a finger underneath her chin and tilting it up to look into her eyes. “Though now that I think about it, it does seem rather suspicious.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were the one who built this heart. How do I know that you didn’t fashion it intentionally to beat only for you?”

With a gasp of offense, she pulled her arms from his waist and attempted to shove him away. He captured her hands and held them between them.

Darby settled for furrowing her eyebrows. “I put your heart back in exactly as attached as I found it.”

“I know,” he whispered, kissing her temple. “And I’m giving it back to you. You built it; you better keep it.”

She melted into him. “You promised to kiss me before I died.”

“So I did.”

He pressed another light kiss to her other temple, the tip of her nose, the base of her jaw, the corner of her mouth.