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I release a long, shattered breath that seems to have left my soul. I think I hit something in the middle of the fall, which is why I started to lose consciousness, but I held on to my father with all of my might. I couldn’t have let him survive.
“How about…my father?” I ask Gwen.
“He’s dead,” she says softly. “Dad’s scary-looking friend took his body with him.”
It must’ve been Nicolo.
The reality hits me then. I’m finally free.
Free of fearing him.
Of trying to escape the shadow he cast on my life.
Free.
It’s too surreal to wrap my head around that knowledge, so I stroke Gwen’s hair. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Totally fine.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that because of me.”
She frantically shakes her head. “You don’t have to apologize. Dad told me all about you and your father, and I know you did everything to protect me. But don’t sacrifice yourself again, or I won’t talk to you. I was so scared you’d die now after I finally have you, Mom.”
My chest squeezes so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. “What…what did you just call me?”
“Mom,” she repeats, more determined this time. “You were always my mom, even when you weren’t there.”
I wrap my arms around her and hide my face in her neck, partially so the tears aren’t visible. “Thank you, Gwen.”
She squeezes me back, her voice trembling. “No, thank you for being my mom.”
I think I just upgraded to a different level of existence. No one told me that being someone’s mom felt so revering. It doesn’t even matter that I’m in one of the hospitals I loathed so much, and it has everything to do with the girl in my arms.
She’s not a stillborn baby. She’s alive, hugging me, and has called me “Mom.”
We remain like that for a moment too long, until our breathing is in sync. The door opens and we reluctantly break apart.
Kingsley appears in the doorway, larger than life, even when his hair is disheveled and his shoulders nearly rip out from his shirt due to how tense they are.
My chest expands and my stomach contracts so hard, it’s a miracle no one hears the sound.
Being in the same room with Kingsley has always been an experience. Like sinking in dark waters and knowing he’ll be the one to provide me with oxygen.
He drips with power and authority that speaks to the secret submissive part of me without words.
But right now, he’s channeling the devil himself, looking dark, broody, and like he has a taste for violence.
“Um…I’ll be right outside.” Gwen grins, then whispers so only I can hear her. “I didn’t tell him you love him, so you can do that yourself.”
Then she dashes out, shouldering past her father.
He kicks the door shut, then stalks toward me. “What, and I can’t stress this enough,the fuckwere you thinking, Aspen? Do you have a death wish at thirty-fucking-five? Or do you like playing Russian roulette with your life? Why would you do that—”
I pull him by a handful of his shirt and slam my lips to his. Kingsley growls in my mouth, then wraps a big hand around my neck and kisses me with a hunger that steals my breath.
Our teeth, tongues, and even our souls collide in a shattering kiss that turns my limbs into Jell-O. I kiss him with the desperation of a reborn woman while he breathes life into me.
“Fuck,” he whispers against my lips when we break apart and he drops his forehead against mine. “This doesn’t let you off the hook.”
