I let out a long breath and looked at the door leading to the visitors’ room. She was right. There was nothing for me here. “Goodbye, Mom. Take care of yourself.”
“Goodbye Keira.” She looked over my shoulder before she turned and walked away, head held high, back ramrod straight.
My father was a ruthless criminal. My mother never really loved me.
But I had built a new life for myself. I was lucky. Surrounded by love. Surrounded by family in the truest sense of the word.
Strong arms wrapped around me and I turned in Deacon’s arms and placed my hand over his heart, reassured by the steady rhythm. Tears rolled down my cheeks and he held me close. I cried for my mother. My father. Sasha. All the people I’ve lost in my life. Even Anthony who I had once believed in.
I thought about what Deacon had said, how I was loyal to the right people. Deacon, Killian, Connor…they were good men. The kind of men who held you close when they know you needed it. The kind of men who tried to do the right thing. To protect you and keep you safe. Not control you or play fucked-up games with your head.
Deacon stroked my hair and let me cry. We’d talk about it on the ten-hour drive back to Brooklyn. But right now, he knew that I just needed to be held. In the end, after all the sleepless nights and the worry and the guilt, this was how I had to find my closure. Shut out of my father’s life, a quick chat with my mother in the prison parking lot.
I forgive you, Keira. I said the words in my head. They were just a whisper, but I heard them. I would say those words many more times and each time I did, the voice in my head would get louder and stronger, and eventually I would believe it. I would know it was true.
This time, when I cried, I didn’t feel broken. I didn’t feel like I needed Deacon to put the pieces back together. The tears were just my final goodbye to a life I had left behind.
Releasing Deacon, I wiped away my tears and I smiled. “Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Deacon
TWO YEARS AND SIX MONTHS LATER…
Ihold out my hand to Keira and she places hers in mine. “You owe me a dance.”
She smiles. “You can have all my dances.”
I pull her into my arms, and we dance to the song she chose. Ryan Adams’ cover of “Wonderwall.”Sheis my wonderwall. Barefoot in a forest green strapless gown, long, wild waves of hair falling around her shoulders, she has never looked more beautiful. Hundreds of fairy lights twinkle above us like stars. Everyone we know and love is gathered in the white tent set up in the backyard behind my grandfather’s cabin. My parents, Abby, Connor and Ava, Eden and Killian, Max and his girlfriend, Amber. They started dating last year after Keira introduced them at a drag race. Tate and the guys from the garage are here, my cop buddies, and Keira’s pit crew.
We were married in the cathedral in the woods. The sun was just setting as we said our vows, promising each other forever. We ate tacos and drank beer and tequila. She fed me cake—chocolate with salted caramel icing.
I lower my face to hers and kiss her lips.Mine. We’re still kissing, moving slowly to the music when a loud shriek cuts through the music.
A tail thwacks the back of my leg and I look down as our rescue dog Zeus runs circles around us, a doll clamped in his jaws. Eden and Killian’s little girl Rosie chases after him. “Bad doggy,” she reprimands. Grabbing him by the collar, fearless in the face of an eighty-pound black Labrador, she tries to drag him away and wrestle the toy out of his mouth at the same time.
Everyone in the tent is laughing at the display and Keira buries her face in my shoulder, her body shaking with laughter. This is our life. Crazy, chaotic, never quite going to plan.
“Rosie,” Killian says, swooping in and lifting her into his arms. “What are you trying to do?”
“He stole my toy. I wanna beat him up.”
Killian tries to suppress his laughter as Rosie raises her fists, her eyes narrowed. She’s adorable, with big blue eyes and golden curls. Everything she does is so fucking cute that you can’t help but smile at her antics. Killian is a total sucker for her. She has him wrapped around her little finger. “Rosie. You can’t beat up a dog.”
“I can. I’m a badass.”
“Who told you that?”
“Uncle Deacon.” She points at me, throwing me under the bus. “He says I’m like Mommy and Auntie Keira and Auntie Ava. We’re the badass family. Right?” she asks me, daring me to dispute that. It’s hard to believe this kid is only two. She’s whip-smart and already has a better command of the English language than some adults. Killian is going to have his hands full with this one.
I chuckle at the thought of Rosie as a teenager. “Right. And you’re the biggest badass of them all.” Killian scowls at me. “But that’s not a nice word. Come dance with me and your Auntie Keira.”
“You can show us how it’s done,” Keira said. “We’re not that good at dancing.”
“Okay.” She smacks her palms against Killian’s cheeks and gives him a big kiss. “Let me down, Daddy. I’m gonna dance.” She points her finger at me and Keira. “They need my help.”
Killian laughs and sets her on her feet. Rosie shows us some of her moves. Her signature move is spinning in circles until she gets so dizzy, she falls into a heap. The girl’s crazy. In the very best way.
