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Thank God I came and didn’t wait.
I take the final step and throw myself across Damian’s chest, wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing my eyes closed. The gun goes off, loud and jarring. Women scream, men shout, an alarm peals and suddenly I’m on my back on the floor, Damian covering me with his body, his mouth moving, but I don’t hear any sound. Am I shot? There’s no pain.
Maybe I’m in shock.
My head turns to the right in slow motion and there’s my father, lying on the ground with a bullet wound in his head. An armed guard stands in the distance, still holding the gun, his expression stunned.
But I have no time to process what happened because my fiancé turns those black, mad eyes on me, shaking me on the ground and his voice finally overcomes my temporary deafness from the gunshot.
“What were you thinking? My girl. My sweet, sweet girl. What were you trying to do?” I can barely recognize his tone, it’s so steeped in anguish, cracking around the edges. His eyes are now red rimmed and delirious, his shaking hands traveling over every inch of my body. “You could have been killed. You knew you were going to be killed! How dare you. How dare you almost fucking die, Arya! You think my life for yours is an even trade? It’s not! It’s not. Do you think I’d want to live after you died in my arms? DO YOU?”
His obvious torment causes tears to stream down my cheeks. “You’ve saved me so many times. It was my turn. I don’t want to live without you, either.” I start to hiccup, the adrenaline deserting me. “S-stop yelling at me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He drags me into his arms and rocks me back and forth in his lap, his movements compulsive. “Goddammit. I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life. You ran. You ran in front of the gun. Don’t you ever put me through this again. You are my life, Arya. Please. My fucking life.”
I nod into his neck and make the promise.
“Get the court officer in here now!” Damian roars over my head, still rocking me in his arms. “I’m not moving until she’s my wife. Get it done. I need to bring her home.”
Everyone scrambles to do his bidding and someone throws a sheet over the body of my father. A minute later, the court officer runs out and has us repeat our vows on the floor, his nervous gaze lighting on Damian every two seconds, as if worried my almost-husband will strike. I’m shaken by so many emotions at once. Joy that I’m marrying the love of my life, sadness that I never truly knew my father and now he’s gone. But mostly, I feel relief that Damian is alive. Our union might be forged in today’s fire, but we’re strong enough to face anything. We’re beginning our forever together.
When we’re finally pronounced man and wife, Damian lets out the breath he seems to have been holding, his mouth landing on mine, hard and desperate, kissing me until I run out of air. Then he stands with me in his arms and walks out of the courthouse.
“Mine,” he breathes into the dusk.
And I am. Completely and always.
Epilogue
Damian
Five years later
I try not to panic when I walk into the house and Arya isn’t immediately in front of me.
She usually runs to me the moment I step over the threshold and it’s become the only good part about work. Coming back. Catching her up against my chest and reassuring her that, although I have a dangerous job, I stay in the shadows. Stay out of the line of fire as much as possible. When a man has built himself the perfect paradise with an angel at his side, he doesn’t risk it for anything.
I check Arya’s office first. There are shelves and shelves of fantasy books to my left, her command station to my right. She is still running her dog adoption website—it’s something that fulfills her and I strive to see her happy—but I’ve convinced her to hire some remote help, so it doesn’t consume all of her time. After all, I’m already consuming quite a lot of it. I would take more if I could, but we’ve had some welcome additions to the family.
A little boy named Benjamin.
A slightly older girl named Suzanna.
They are both perfect, just like their mother.
With my heart swelling in my chest, I check the nursery upstairs next, but it’s empty as well. Our bedroom, too.
I swallow a fistful of quarters and whip out my cell, calling the phone I’ve asked Arya to keep on her at all times. My number and 911 are the only contacts on it. And if she doesn’t answer the damn thing—
