Page 121 of Fallen Hero

It was that smile, the way he looked at me, the invisible tether that rooted me to him, that had given me back my sister.

Killing Jason wouldn’t have given me peace.

Revenge wouldn’t have soothed the ache.

Mason did.

“She called me CeCe,” I told Atlanta. “We were sisters but best friends forever. She’d hate that I lost two decades of my life. She died. It was brutal and ugly, but I’m still alive, and she’d want me to be happy and live . . . maybe even for the both of us. Jason’s dead, and you know what?”

“What?” she asked softly.

“Nothing’s changed. I don’t feel the joy and happiness I thought I’d feel. The cloak of darkness didn’t lift because he’s no longer breathing. I’m not sorry he’s dead. The world’s a better place, but honestly, as weird as it sounds, I just don’t care. What I care about is, you made it possible for me to come to California. But before that, you gave me Mason. I can’t be mad at you for going behind my back when what you did gave me the one thing I was desperate to find.”

“I’m glad you found it, Calli.”

“No, Atlanta, I didn’t find it. You went behind my back to give it to me. Then Mason gave me the rest while I stubbornly fought him. Now, not only do I have the peace I’d been missing, I also have six men who act like annoying brothers and Catarina, who has unreservedly welcomed me. I’m going to enjoy my peace and write books and love on my man.”

“I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, and I’m over-the-moon happy for you. But damn, woman, this new you is not the Calista I knew.”

Thank God for that. The old Calista was miserable.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Her laugh made me laugh. What could I say? I was deliriously happy.

“So when’s the wedding?”

“Tomorrow,” I teased.

“What!” she screeched, nearly taking out my eardrum.

“Kidding. I don’t know if we’ll get married. Maybe we’ll just live happily ever after and not worry about a piece of paper and tax breaks. Or maybe we will. Who knows, and if I have Mason, I don’t care.”

Mason jerked his chin, reminding me we had somewhere to be.

“Listen, I have to go. We’re meeting the team at the Dirty Plank for drinks.”

“One more thing. I’ll be over-the-top, ready-to-commit-murder mad if you don’t invite me to the wedding. Okay, two things.” She paused, then added quietly, “I’m happy you have your Lili back. Don’t ever forget her again.”

With that, she rang off.

I waited for the sharp pain to hit at the mention of Lili. But like all the times in the last three weeks since I’d let my sister back in, it never came.

Mason came through the sliding glass door, his intelligent eyes scanning my face for any signs of distress. This look was different than his Mason stare back in Dubai—he wasn’t examining me to uncover deceit. This perusal was a man who loved his woman and wanted to make sure she wasn’t upset after having what he thought would be a hard conversation.

“All good?” he asked.

“Yep. Atlanta says she’ll be over-the-top, ready-to-commit-murder mad if she’s not invited to our wedding,” I blurted out.

Mason’s hot-guy smile lit his face. “Are you asking me to marry you, sweetness?”

“And if I was?” I teased him back.

“I’d drive us to the courthouse tomorrow. Unless you wanted a big wedding, then I’d tell you to start planning.”

I blinked away my shock, but I didn’t have time to think of a proper comeback before Mason’s arm shot out and tagged me around the waist, bringing me flush to his chest.

“Do you want to get married, Calli?”