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Thirty-Nine
Aria woke with a start,reaching for the gun she’d left on the table next to the lounge chair when she realized she’d heard the gate to the courtyard clickshut.
Then Damian came into view and she was on her feet, rushing toward him, throwing her arms around hisneck.
He slid his arms around her waist, pressed her againsthim.
He was back. He wasalive.
She didn’t know how long they stood that way before she pulled away to look at hisface.
“Is it done?” she askedhim.
Henodded.
“And?” She wasn’t sure what more she wanted, but there was something else, something she couldn’tdefine.
“He diedalone.”
She exhaled the breath she’d been holding since Damian had left earlier that day. Since Primo died. Since Malcom had walked into theirlives.
“Good.” She held his face between her hands and kissed him. “Can we go homenow?”
