Kerry

I don’t think I’ve ever felt such rage.

She shot Damian.

I can’t hold back. The moment Keith storms through the door, Luna right behind him, and the two of them tackle that woman to the floor, I pull myself up on my feet and haul out as hard as I can, landing a solid kick to her ribs.

“Whoa, tiger,” Jasper’s familiar voice sounds in my ear, as he wraps an arm around my midsection and swings me around. The anger instantly transforms to fear when I see Damian sitting on the floor, blood covering the left side of his shirt. I struggle to get free and drop to my knees in front of him, my hands flying over his torso, looking for holes.

“Gypsy...”

I hear his voice but it doesn’t stop me. Strong hands wrap around my wrists to still them.

“Mi amór...I’m okay.”

I hear the words but I don’t believe them—my eyes are glued to the blood running down his arm.

He lightly shakes me once, and then again, until I finally lift my eyes to his. “The bullet grazed my shoulder. I promise I’m okay.” This time the message gets through, but I don’t look away from his eyes once, not even when EMTs rush in and start cutting away his shirt. Damian answers questions when they’re asked, but he doesn’t glance away, keeping me grounded and safe in the hold of his eyes as the paramedics patch up his shoulder.

“Miss, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I manage.

“Are you sure?” Damian asks softly.

“I’m fine,” I repeat, “I just want to go home.”

-

LUNA ENDS UP DRIVING us in the Expedition. She doesn’t even question the fact that Damian crawls into the back seat with me. Our hands are clasped together, sticky with his blood, and his head is resting on mine. I can feel every breath he takes. We ride home in silence, the only thing on my mind: the man in the seat beside me. For a moment there, I thought I’d lost him—reacted too late. I don’t think that would have been something I could ever have recovered from. But he’s right here, breathing the same air I’m breathing and traveling the same road I’m traveling. Something I will never take for granted again.

“Is it over?” I say as we pull up to our house, knowing I’ve asked this before but asking anyway.

“Yes, Gypsy—It’s finally over.”

Luna stays downstairs to wait for Jasper and Blackfoot, who said they would follow us here, while I head upstairs, pulling Damian along. I move us into the bathroom and draw a bath, while I remove the remains of Damian’s tattered shirt. He lets me without argument, instinctively recognizing this is something I need to do. I wince at the blood still staining his skin. The EMTs wiped off the worst, but I need it all gone. He automatically stands up when I start unbuckling his belt, easily kicks off his shoes, and steps out of his jeans when I pull them down to his ankles, taking his socks right along.

Seated in the tub with his arm resting on the edge to stay dry, Damian watches me as I completely strip down and slip in the tub across from him. I take my time washing him, and when I’m done, every hint of blood is gone from his skin. Then I start scrubbing at my own hide, but Damian soon stops me, taking the washcloth from my hand. With slow, firm strokes, he cleans my skin and when he’s done, he urges me to turn and lay back against his chest, his right arm crossing over my shoulder, between my breasts with his hand resting on my stomach.

“Does this happen often?” I ask, both hands holding his arm firmly in place, afraid of the answer but needing to know anyway.

“This wasn’t the first time,” he says calmly. “I suspect it might not be the last.”

It’s not a surprise, but I still have to swallow hard before I can react. “Okay.”

“Does it help?” he asks me, and I don’t have to think before I answer.

“Yes. It helps.”

“Good,” he acknowledges. “Then this will be how we deal.”

By the time we get downstairs, Luna is in the kitchen working on some grilled cheese sandwiches, one of which is rapidly disappearing behind Jasper’s chomping jaw. Keith is leaning against the counter, appearing relaxed at first view, but the tick of a muscle in his jaw reveals he’s anything but.

“You okay, boss?” Jas is the first to notice our arrival.

“Just a scratch,” Damian says from behind me. I can’t hold back the derisive snort. His arm snakes around me from behind. “In our line of work, that’s what it is, Gypsy,” he rumbles in my ear before addressing his team. “What have we got?” 

“An international mess,” Keith volunteers. “Jas called James, who is on his way and has instructed us to hold off on interviewing Ella. So for now, she’s sitting in a holding cell.” He pulls out a stool and sits down heavily. “How did we miss this?” His question is mostly directed to Damian.

“She was clever. Kept her finger to the pulse, and whenever she got uncomfortable with the direction of the investigation, she made sure to tie off any exposed leads with viable explanations. Not really hard to manipulate a case when you’re playing both sides simultaneously.” Damian pulls out a stool for me to sit when Luna slides a plate in front of me. “Eat,” he orders. Normally I would’ve probably given him hell, but I’m still a little numb, and besides, that grilled cheese sandwich looks really good.

While Damian gives a detailed account of his part in this afternoon’s events, I manage to clean my plate. Then it’s my turn to describe what I remember. Feels like I’m becoming an old hand at this statement business. I’ve sure given enough over the past little while. 

The low hum of conversation slowly fades into the background as fatigue suddenly overwhelms me, and I rest my head on Damian’s shoulder. Next thing I know, I wake up with him peppering kisses over my face. “I’d carry you upstairs, babe, but my shoulder is a bit messed up. Jasper offered, but I threatened to tear off any limb that came near you. Looks like you’re going to have to walk, Gypsy.” I lift my head off his shoulder and notice everyone is gone.

“I didn’t even thank Luna for the sandwich,” I mumble.

“That’s okay. You can thank her later,” he says as he shuffles me up the stairs and into the bedroom. Once there, I barely manage to shrug off my yoga pants and fall face-first into bed.

I feel the mattress shift as Damian slips in beside me, and like a homing beacon, my body immediately seeks out his heat, snuggling against his side. My hand automatically comes to rest in the middle of his chest, where the edge of the bandage under my fingers is a sobering reminder of how much my life has changed.

DAMIAN

“Are you up for this?”

Kerry’s fingers absently rub along the tape stuck on my chest. They stop moving at my question.

“This?”

“Life with me,” I answer, letting my own fingers trail along the soft skin of her arm.

I’ve never questioned my career choices. I’ve never even considered the impact my job has on those around me—I’m ashamed to admit—but I sure as hell am thinking about it now. I freely admit it has me worried. What woman, in her right mind, would want to share her life with someone who willingly puts himself in danger on many occasions—who could come home hurt, or worse, not come home at all?

“Here’s the thing,” she sleepily answers. “Stability, predictability, control, and independence—those have always been my goals. I thought if I could build my life on those four cornerstones, I’d be riding high.” She chuckles, her breath tickling the hair on my chest. “I ended up finally having all those when you first walked into the shop. I had them and I was satisfied, but I wasn’t happy or whole. In the past however long it’s been since that day, I’ve lost every single one of them at some point, and yet oddly enough, I don’t feel the sense of loss I would’ve expected.” She pushes up and leans her chin on my chest, her beautiful, gray eyes clear on mine. “Instead, I’m more cared for than I think I ever have been in my life. I feel safe and protected every second of every day with you keeping my six.” I smile at her law enforcement slang as she continues. “I’m made to feel equal and valued, and I am grounded in my love for you. So if you are wondering if your job and all it comes with scares me? Then the answer is fuck yes, but I’ve never been happier.” I have a hard time keeping my face impassive because her words cut right to the heart of me. She slightly tilts her head to one side. “Is that a good enough answer?”

“More than good enough,” I say, my voice thick and my lungs full with emotion as she lays her head back down on my chest.

Every word from her mouth could have come from mine had she asked me the same. Stability, predictability, control, and independence for years have been at the root of my own life. Ironically, those were all reasons why I never even considered linking my life to someone else’s—until her. We’re more alike than I thought, and I’m positive that will be cause for some head-butting in our future. But for some reason, it doesn’t worry me. This love is too mired in reality to get damaged by an occasional scuffle.

I place Kerry’s hand palm down on my heart, and I hear her sigh. “For you,” I whisper.

“I know,” is her soft response. “I love you.”

I’m not sure if I even deserve to be this lucky.

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THE END