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“He’s—” my voice broke, and instead of speaking, I just shook my head. The look on Izzy’s face told me she understood.
“What about you?” she asked softly. “How are you really?”
I blinked the tear away, giving her a weak smile. “I’ll live.” The joke was as pathetic as I sounded. “I can’t think straight. My mind’s fuzzy,” I confessed. “But I’ll be fine. We both will.”
She patted my arm. “Of course you will. You’re a fighter.”
I snorted. I didn’t feel like one. Being stuck in a hospital bed wasn’t my idea of a fresh start. But I would get out of here. And I would live. Not long ago I was convinced I wouldn’t. Having a future at all was a big win, and if I had to tiptoe with baby steps into it, so be it.
The crazy months were just that. Crazy. Intense. They swept us up like a tornado and didn’t let us go. Now, we were reeling in the aftermath, picking up the pieces one by one and building something solid.
I lost everything I had—but gained something so much better. Family wasn’t only what you were born into. Izzy and Dom being here proved it. Marc too. Especially Marc.
I looked over at him, and a small smile tugged at my lips. I still had to remind myself that he was mine. This magnificent man who not only killed for me but sure as hell was ready to die for me—was mine. All mine.
Marc Maddox, my warrior—and lover.
My everything.
