“He’s not a freak,” she said in a cold steady voice, and he had never heard anything so beautiful.
“He’s my savior.”
She pointed the gun and pulled the trigger, the recoil slamming her back as the boom sounded through the room. The bullet flew through the air and hit the man square in the chest, the momentum sending him flying backward. He was dead before he hit the ground, the blood pooling around him mixing with the dust.
A lucky shot maybe.
Or maybe it was fate.
But whatever it was, it wasfucking beautiful.
He turned his head, his eyes on his woman.
Standing tall.
Her chin held high.
Her eyes on his.
His little bird.
The little bird that was no longer caged.
She was free.
And it was fucking beautiful.
Strong little bird.
The minute they had the chains off of him, she rushed forward and slammed into him, sending him back a step as he braced.
“Mark,” she cried out.
“What are you even doing here?” He barely managed to get the words out, his throat so choked up.
“I love you.” She sobbed.
I’ve got you, little bird.
“Shhh, I’m here, little bird. I’ve got you.” He wrapped his hand around her neck pulling her tear-stained face up to him his lips hovering over hers.
“I love you.”
“God, I love you too,” she whispered, her sobs starting to die down.
