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As I walk back in through the door, I rub my knuckles. They’re battered and bruised. Painful. They’ll take a while to heal, but I like the pain. The pain reminds me that the world is a little better now than it was a few hours ago.
The sun is coming up as I walk into the kitchen and find it empty. I drop my bloodstained pistol on the table, grab a glass and fill it with water from the refrigerator, then sit and take a welcome sip.
There’s a creak from behind me, but I don’t turn as I speak. “It’s done.”
I feel Hannah’s arms around me, and wince a little at the pain in my shoulder.
The bullet was in and out. Clean. But it’s going to take a few weeks to heal.
I reach up and back, and pull her into my arms. The only thing I feel is love. I need her. I want her. Our lips press against each other and she frowns when she sees the blood and the bullet hole in my t-shirt.
“Zeneli will never touch anyone again,” I tell her. “And animal control will be taking care of a white tiger.”
I shake my head, remembering how the stunning creature was chained to a wall behind a fucking gold throne chair.
“I have a house in the Caymans. We can start over. You, me and Ruthie.”
As I think about the baby, the ache in my chest that I haven’t seen her yet becomes unbearable, but I had to make sure things were safe for all of us.
I’m desperate for that first glimpse, for that first touch. My child. Something I never thought I’d have.
“I can’t start over,” Hannah says, frowning. “What about Brigid? She’s helped raise Ruthie. She’s as much a mom to our daughter as I am. I can’t leave her here and disappear off into the sunset. I don’t want to. I love her. Where will she—”
I press my finger against her lips, silencing her words to a mumble. “Brigid too,” I tell her. “Of course, Brigid too. She comes with us.”
“No. She’s a good actress. Way better than I ever was. She’s getting roles, maybe not much at the moment but she is. I can’t ask her to leave her dreams behind.”
“I want to go.”
I hear the voice from behind me, and turn, pain shooting up into my neck but I’m frozen in silence.
Brigid is standing there. With my daughter cradled in her arms, giving me a little smile.
“You took care of him?” she asks and I nod.
“Him and a few more. They’ll be sorting out the bodies for a while.”
“I want to go,” she repeats. “You said you loved Dietrich. You said he was the father and the man you never knew you wanted. You have to go, and I’m going to go with you.”
I nod as she hands me my daughter for the first time, and I take her into my arms, cradling her and Hannah at the same time.
Hannah stares at her sister as my eyes start to burn and my heart inflates against my chest wall. “What about acting?”
“What about it? I only did that for you and Dad. I had this idea that I could take care of everyone, take care of you both, if I got famous. I don’t even like it most days. I don’t like being the center of attention, you know that, I’d rather just be… I don’t know… decorating people’s houses. With you.”
“You sure?” Hannah asks, her eyes returning to mine as I start to cry, holding Ruthie like she’s going to break into a million pieces any second.
“I hate Las Vegas,” she scoffs.
“Me too,” Hannah says. “I’ve hated this place ever since the moment we moved here.”
I hear them talking but there’s a fucking miracle in my arms. I’m shaking as I kiss our daughter. Then I kiss Hannah. And I reach out and take Brigid’s hand in mine, not bothering to fight off the tears. “Let’s go. The plane’s waiting.”
Wait. I turn to Hannah, fear tightening around my torso.
“You have a car seat right? She has to have a car seat…”
* * *
