Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 156796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Obviously it was the single most beautiful piece of jewelry I’d ever worn.
Gage toyed with it. “You nervous?” he asked.
I quirked my brow. “I’ve been in a house fire, poisoned, held captive, and stabbed. You think I’m nervous about a wedding after all that?”
“You should be, since your choice of groom will promise a lot worse than that.”
I laid my lips on his. “Here’s hoping,” I murmured. “Care to give me a preview?”
He flipped me so his body was covering mine, fingers biting into my hip. His teeth tore at my bottom lip. “Oh, baby, I’ll give you the whole fuckin’ show.”
Epilogue
I glanced down at the phone buzzing on the wooden table beside me, a small smile reaching my face, and more importantly that little part inside me still cold with dread. With expectancy. Because I was happy.
So happy that I felt like there had never been a person on this earth to be so excited for their next breath, their next moment, than me.
And with that happiness came the fear that had been following me around since the start. Not the start of me and Gage—though it sure had intensified—but since the moment I lost David and figured out that happiness was as flimsy as tissue paper, easily torn by the brutal and merciless hands of fate.
I reasoned that fate didn’t discriminate with those who deserved to have that paper otherwise known as their life torn—if anyone really deserved that. No, fate just did it at any point, at any time, and I was terrified that it didn’t happen with those who’d caused the most suffering, but those living with the most happiness… like me.
And even though I felt safe, content, and utterly secure in my life with Gage, I was terrified that there might be something my big, strong, scary, and secretly soft biker wouldn’t be able to protect himself from. I knew he’d protect me, but who was protecting him?
And it was the ringing of my phone and that particular scary and secretly soft biker’s name—soon to be my husband—flashing on the screen that chased away most of the dread.
A sliver of that would always remain, I guessed. Because people who’d known loss and suffering didn’t get the joyful ignorance of unbridled warm happiness. They’d always have that little cold spot inside them. But I decided that wasn’t a bad thing; it just made the warmth that much more precious.
And we’d had a lot of warmth over the last few months, if only a little dulled by the cold grip of the grave Jade had introduced into our lives.
Obviously I wasn’t charged with her murder.
Self-defense and all that.
I think Troy was too busy blaming himself for not seeing it, for being too busy trying to lock Gage up while she held me hostage to even think about punishing me more.
He hadn’t even fought Gage when he’d circled his hands around the cop’s throat when he’d knocked on my door two days after Gage was discharged.
Yes, Gage thought strangling a police officer days after he was discharged from the hospital was appropriate.
“Gage,” I murmured as Troy began to turn red. “You don’t need to be straining yourself like this.” My voice was calm and even, because I had kind of expected a version of the scenario before me.
He glanced to me, then Troy, then sighed loudly. “Fine,” he muttered, letting him go.
Troy rubbed his neck, resting the other hand on his thigh for a moment.
“I came to apologize,” he said, voice raspy.
Gage inspected him much like he would an insect I wouldn’t let him crush. “Didn’t kill you, so apology accepted. I only accept apologies once.”
And he turned on his heel and climbed the stairs.
Niles felt equally bad about employing a murderess. He was literally crying when I handed in my resignation.
“It’s not because you hired Jade,” I said. “Well, maybe it is. Because it took her almost killing me to realize that I should probably live my life. Really live it. And as much as I love you for everything you’ve done for me, I can’t live it here. Not anymore.”
He nodded through his tears. “Of course. You’ve never belonged here.” He squeezed my hand. “And that’s a good thing.”
We had moved my gallery opening to start right after our honeymoon. I was terrified.
So that meant I was doing something good.
And Gage did something that terrified him. Something that was completely and utterly good, if only it hadn’t been stained by the dirt and ugliness of the past.
He invited his parents to our wedding.
He was literally shaking when he made the call.
Gage.
Shaking.
So yeah, he’d been terrified.
And I’d been perched in his lap—because he wouldn’t let me be anywhere else—his scarred arms flexing around me with every ring of the dial tone.
By the time I heard the whisper of a voice on the other side of the phone, I was struggling to breathe, my bones protesting at Gage’s grip. But I didn’t say a thing. Because this small discomfort was nothing compared to the agony Gage was feeling right now.