After I break the neighbor’s window, which helpfully had the sticker on it telling me the security system was there, I go straight for Napier’s front door.

No breaking and entering here. I just ring the bell.

I wait. It’s late at night, and I probably woke him up. I keep ringing it over and over, until it finally swings open.

“Hey,” I say.

Napier’s astonished face is priceless. He’s been trying to find me, to hunt me down, and the last thing he expected was for me to ring his damn doorbell. He thought I was going to run away and cower away like a cockroach, but here I am. Staring him down as if I weren’t afraid of anything. I almost laugh, but then I realize he’s holding a gun. I guess he was expecting Marlo?

Before he can raise the gun, I jump off his porch and into a fucking shrub. I hear the gun go off sometime between when I jump and when I crash into the branches.

I roll out of the bush and into the snow, and I scramble to my feet in time to see Napier aiming at me.

His eyes widen as the police sirens become audible. He points the gun down at me, and I just raise my hands. A cocky grin fills my face. He can shoot me if he wants. Right in front of all the cops. Is he really that dumb?

“What did you do?” he asks, the gun shaking in his hands. “They’re coming for me?”

“Why would they come for you?” I ask, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the dirty criminal.”

One of the shells and a copy of the recordings are in my coat. I’ll hand them over to whoever arrests me. If they’re dirty too and try to cover it up, Marlo will supposedly step in with the other shell and his copy of the recording to back me up.

Then again, I didn’t shoot Napier like he wanted, so maybe he’ll just leave me to rot?

“Fuck!” Napier says, taking a step down from the porch and standing over me.

“I…” he stammers. I can see the red and blue lights of the police cars from the corner of my vision. Napier’s hand is shaking. “You attacked me,” he says, “and so I had to shoot you.”

And then he shoots me.

It’s the last thing I remember. For a long time at least.

* * *

I wake up to the high-pitched beep of hospital machinery. There’s a bunch of shit taped to my arm, and I’m surprised to find that I remember everything.

I look down at my other arm, searching for a handcuff. I’m not handcuffed. That has to be a good sign, right?

“Hey!” I shout. “I’m awake!”

No one comes. I’m shut off in a room by myself. I fumble around looking for the nurse call button. I finally find a remote, and I hit the button.

I hope Angel will walk in, but some other nurse does. She looks at me wide-eyed, her mouth agape.

“You’re...awake.”

“No shit,” I say.

“I gotta go find Angel,” she says. “She told me–”

I grab her by the wrist to stop her from leaving. “Angel’s okay?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Of course, she said I need to come get her if you wake up.”

“If?” I ask.

She bites her lip and looks down at my stomach. Then I look down at it. It’s covered in clean, white bandages.

“There’s no blood,” I whisper, letting go of her wrist. I touch the bandages, expecting an explosion of pain, but I feel nothing.

The nurse steps away. “I’m getting Angel.”

Before Angel can even come in, doctors rush in. “He’s awake!” I hear one of them whisper, walking in.

“Did everyone think I was gonna die?” I grunt.

My voice sounds weak even when I try to yell. I feel suddenly deathly tired, and I just fucking woke up.

I fight the tiredness. I’m not closing my eyes until I see Angel.

“A few weeks ago I would have been less surprised,” one of the doctors says.

“A few weeks?” I ask. How long was I out?

“Here,” A doctor says, shoving something in my face. “Follow it with your eyes.”

I slap the fucking popsicle stick out of his hand and lock my eyes onto his. “You see my eyes meeting yours? They work fine, now tell me what the hell happened.”

Napier shot me. I remember that much. Well, I remember hearing the gun, I don’t even remember the pain, or feeling the bullet go in.

“Ah,” the doctor says. “Should we let his fiancée explain?”

Fiancée? Did I somehow fucking propose to Angel between getting shot and passing out? I don’t think that’s something I’d forget.

My eyelids get heavier. Slapping the stick out of the guy’s hand took the last of my strength. I see a shape moving near the door, and I squint to try to get it into focus. Just before I pass out again, my vision comes into focus for a brief moment, and I see Angel smiling down over me.

* * *

The next time I wake up she’s with me.

She’s holding my hand. I squeeze her back and look up at her.

“Alex,” she says, and she presses her lips to the back of my hand.

“We’re getting married,” I say.

I meant it as a question, but it comes out like a statement.

“Oh,” she laughs nervously. “They wouldn’t let me visit you after hours unless…”

“No,” I say.

As soon as I said it, it had to be true. We are getting married.

“We’re getting married,” I say. “I’ve just decided.”

She smiles wide at me. “It would make things easier with my co-workers at least…since I technically was lying.”

“Was there any ever doubt?” I ask.

She shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes.

“Angel,” I say. “You can cry later...but tell me what happened.”

“Oh, God,” she says. “You still don’t know.”

I shake my head furiously. Can we get married, or am I going to go on trial still? Are the police going to throw me in prison now that I’ve woken up?

“You’re free,” she says. And in those two words, the rest of whatever happened–the details and play-by-play don’t really matter to me–I’m free.

“Free?” I ask, tasting the word on my tongue.

She nods. “The neighbor whose window you broke had cameras everywhere. They caught Napier shooting you unprovoked. Then they found all the evidence. And then Marlo pulled through too, to totally bury him.”

“Am I on the hook with Marlo?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I...made nice with them. They trust you.”

I laugh. “Only you could make nice with those assholes.”

“What does that mean,” she snaps.

“I don’t mean you’re an asshole too, I mean you’re so sweet that they can’t resist your charm. So Napier’s locked up?”

She nods. “He hasn’t gone to trial yet, but it doesn’t look good for him. The police department is doing everything they can to distance themselves from him. They found his offshore bank account and everything. There’s no way he’ll get off.”

I laugh. “I thought fate wanted to fuck me over. I thought the only reason you were dangled in front of me was to make it hurt that much worse when I finally got locked away again.”

She runs her hand along my cheek. “Alex, you’re free. You can be whatever you want to be now. You’re not a criminal anymore. Do you understand?”

I nod, understanding clearer than I’ve ever understood anything.