If anyone ever tells you the road to love is easy, they’re full of shit. It’s long, riddled with bumps, filled with curves, and has more than one mountain to cross.

Is it worth it? Hell yes.

When I awake in the hospital, it’s to Cherry’s smiling face.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning, beautiful,” I reply. “What time is it?” She said morning after all, which would mean I slept through Monday evening and all throughout the night. How’d the arrests go? Has Justin called?

“Shortly after 8 a.m. Rhys and Av are here; they’re waiting in the other room. Justin called to tell you how the raid went. He was a little vague on the details with me, but he’ll be on his way here as fast as possible.”

She’s answered all of my questions without me having to give them voice.

“Have you left my side to get any rest?” I ask.

“Would it make you feel better if I said yes?”

“Sweetness, you need rest. I’m awake now, so go to the hotel and rest. Take T-Lil with you—our pregnant little mama needs her rest, too.” They both do; we all know Rhys doesn’t want his wife giving birth early due to stress. She has to be uncomfortable sitting around in a hospital waiting room.

“I will in a while. You lied to me, Ace,” she accuses.

“I did?”

“Yep.” Her one-word answer pisses me off.

“Care to clue me in?”

“It was more than a flesh wound—he hit your axillary artery. You ended up losing enough blood that you eventually passed out. The bullet was still inside you, and they had to operate to remove it, not to mention the seven bags of blood they had to give you.” Her face starts to go slightly pink, nearly the same shade it turns when she’s flushed with lust or embarrassment. “Don’t look at me all charming and shit. I could’ve lost you.” Turning her head away, she mumbles, “Flesh wound, my ass.”

“Cherry?”

“Yeah,” she grumbles.

“I didn’t lie. I truly believed it was a flesh wound. I’m sorry, my love.” It seems I’ve said those two words a few times over the last couple of days, words that, until recently, weren’t a normal part of my vocabulary.

“You’re forgiven.” She leans in and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek. “I’m going to let them know you’re awake. Be back in a moment.”

As she walks out the door, I can’t help but think I’m the luckiest son of a bitch there is.

Reaching for my phone where I spied it sitting on the nightstand, I tap Justin’s name to call him. It rings three times and goes to voicemail. My impatience wins and I hit dial again, but the same thing happens this time. Instead of hanging up, I leave a short message asking him to call me back pronto. I’m curious to see what all charges were brought against every member they managed to arrest. For me to feel truly at peace, I need to know.

As I’m setting my phone back on the table, Rhys walks in.

“Leave to it you to actually get shot. You couldn’t help but one-up me, huh?” Rhys asks, his tone filled with humor.

“Rhys, stop giving him shit. He could have died,” T Lil says from over his shoulder.

Tessa makes her way back into the room and takes a careful seat on my bed. Reaching for her hand, I grab it and squeeze, letting her know without words how much I love her.

“Well…I did bleed a fuckton, but I don’t think I was ever at any real risk of dying, T-Lil. If Rhys wants to sling shit my way, he’s more than welcome to. I may not sling any back though, ’cause my pain meds are making me sleepy.”

“Nah, I’ll come up with creative names from this for years to come. I’m happy you’re alive and well.” He stops to run his hands over his face in agitation. “Do you want me to fill you in on what Justin told me?”

“Yes, I’ve tried calling him twice now, rang through to voicemail. Cherry said he didn’t tell her much. Spill it.”

He walks out of the room but quickly comes back in, this time dragging two chairs along with him.

“Tiger Lily, sit. Get off your feet and rest, babe.” She does it without a moment’s hesitation.

Making himself comfy in the other chair, he begins to fill me in on what he knows, which turns out to be a ton. Justin is supposedly on his way here, but I doubt he’ll arrive any time in the next day or two, as this case is going to take ages to tie up. Hell, it’ll take months, if not years, to get a trial date.

“Here’s what I know.” He visibly swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple alerting me to how hard he swallowed. He’s nervous, understandably so. “Martinelli was arrested for a whole laundry list of charges. The most serious is five counts of murder one. They seized and closed the Busty Bunny in San Diego and the one in Chicago as they were fronts for his business dealings. A shitload of money was laundered through those two businesses, but they’re working on seizing eight more. He’s also facing charges of supplying both cities with heroin, cocaine, and crystal meth. The drugs were sold primarily out of the Busty Bunny locations, not to mention those two businesses were also running a prostitution ring. Busty Bunny was a win all on its own.”

He stops for a moment to let it all sink in.

Holy. Shit.

With my help, the FBI has taken down one of the most wanted mafia families in the United States.

“I’m repeating to make sure I heard it all: murder, racketeering, prostitution, drugs, and money laundering, correct?”

“Don’t forget what Justin told me: trafficking. He was stealing women and girls and selling them to the highest bidders as sex slaves,” Tessa informs the room.

“Motherfucker,” Rhys says. “Tess, I didn’t hear about the trafficking. I must’ve been drifting off to sleep. Shit, I’m glad this monster has been arrested.”

“It’s a damn good thing he was. There’s no way I was going to let him near my Cherry girl, not for a twisted family dinner, and certainly not for anything else.” A yawn escapes, and I realize how tired I am.

“I’m going to go get the rest you told me to, and it seems like you need some yourself, Ace. I’ll take these two with me since there’s plenty of room at our hotel. I love you, see you in a few hours.” She bends down and kisses me on the cheek.

“See you in a while, Cherry mine.”

Brant is released from the hospital eight days later, and we’re on a flight back to San Diego the following Wednesday morning when we finally talk about everything that’s happened over the last few days.

“The FBI formally charged Martinelli with five counts of murder in the first degree yesterday morning. How do you feel knowing your father will be spending the rest of his natural life in prison?” I ask.

“Honestly? I feel fucking fantastic. It’s where he deserves to be. I’m thrilled Justin was able to take down as many family members as he did. It’ll help me sleep at night. If there’s one place they deserve to be, it’s prison,” he replies. “What about you, how do you feel about the charges brought against Mick?”

“I’m ecstatic. He’ll be spending time in prison as well, and rightly so,” I say. “Although he could probably benefit from spending some time in a psychiatric hospital, if he’s ever released back out into the public.”

My point is filled with validity. He’s not as vile as some of the monsters Ace helped put away this week. His main issue may truly be mental, but it’s not like I give a shit what happens to him from here on out. As long as he’s far from me, I’m golden.

“I will say this: knowing you saved me more than Mick meeting justice. I’m breathing freely for the first time since my daddy died, thanks to you. You had a hand in saving me from myself. If you hadn’t forced me to break my stupid promise to myself, I’d still be the closed-off woman Mick forced me to become.”

“No, sweetness, we saved each other. I suppose now that I’m out of work, I should start looking for gainful employment. You wouldn’t happen to need a handyman around the store, would you?”

“Um…about the store—wait a minute, don’t you still have access to the trust fund from Martinelli? Or was it seized?”

He doesn’t know what I’ve been thinking over the last week or two. I’ve been internally debating whether to let go of my franchise and move to Michigan. It’s either I move or he does, and it makes more sense for it to be me. Rhys and Av are there, and I could always work with her in her store. It’s not like I don’t know how to help her run it.

“First, I want to know what you mean about the store. Second, yes, I have the trust fund. It’s been open to me since my twenty-fourth birthday. It wasn’t seized because it’s in my name. Now spill,” he demands.

“What would you think about me selling the store?”

“Why would you want to do such a thing?”

“For us. If I did, I’d be free to move to Michigan. I’d have to sell my house as well, but it’s in a valuable area, so I’m sure it would sell fast. It makes more sense for me to move rather than you.” Taking a deep breath, I ask him the big question. “Why don’t you want to spend as much time together as possible?” The words feel like barbed wire passing through my throat, turning my tongue to ashes.

“Is this a trick question?”

“Nope,” I reply, the word popping from my lips.

“Hell yes, I want us to spend as much time together as humanly possible. I was willing to move for you. You obviously have more to lose by moving. Do you want to move to Michigan? It snows there, and the weather is temperamental at best. Sometimes the summer feels like spring or fall, and…you’d be leaving Goa Goa.”

“But I’d be gaining you, and Rhys, and Av—all wins in my book,” I argue.

“All valid points. I don’t hate the idea, not at all, but I only want you to make it once you’re absolutely certain you want to move. I’ll support you no matter what. I can find work anywhere. My record has been scrubbed clean, thanks to Justin, and I’m a numbers guy. Places are always hiring numbers guys. Wherever you’re happiest is where I’m happiest.”

Wow. Did I win the boyfriend lottery or what?

To think, upon first meeting him, I misjudged him to be a womanizing pig when he’s anything but. He may have a few piggish tendencies when it comes to his mouth, but I love every single thing about him, warts and all.

Shaking my head, I let him know I’ve heard his point and the discussion is tabled for now.

I spend the rest of the flight thumbing through magazines and pretending to read on my Kindle, though I’m actually listening to Brant’s steady breaths as he naps next to me.

A month ago, I would’ve called you insane if you had told me the love of my life was staring me in the face all along. I would’ve laughed if you’d told me it was Brant. I never wanted to love anyone after Mick, including myself. The promise I made would’ve held strong for the rest of my days. I was happy living day to day, dating here and there to satisfy my needs when they arose, but it was a mediocre life, one spent with my books and panda friends.

I was fine living life as a long-distance friend, but running my store, going to meetings, learning how to cook, being in charge of every second of every day—it was exhausting. I’m not sure how I lived without his love for this long, but now that I know how it feels, I’ll never go a day in my life without it, and that’s more than okay by me.