Page 137 of Diamond In The Rough

“And I’ll always be your chicken that needs protection.”

“Can you come up with a new analogy? Yours is weird.”

“I quite like weird. I love you, Micah Malone. We might grow to regret it someday, when you’re tired of my strangeness and I’m sick of living in a jungle. But today isn’t that day.”

“If you choose to love me, mo chroí, then I want you to choose forever.”

“Easy,” she breathes. “Done.”

EPILOGUE

TIIA

“He was like, really, really mad at me, right?” My stomach flutters as Micah helps me out of the car and holds my weight. I can stand now. And walk. Doctors say I have to get up and move around, to aid in healing and all that boring stuff. But that doesn’t mean I can stand straight. It doesn’t mean my stitches don’t tug while my brain swears I’m going to tear my entire body in half every time I cough. “Felix was like…” Terrified, and yet, a little giddy, I look up and widen my eyes. “He’s the freakin’ don. And I was a Fed inside his home. Men have died for less.”

“Felix isn’t gonna be a problem for you.”

“But maybe he’ll kill me while you’re in the bathroom. Or poison my dinner. Or maybe he’ll send Christabelle to do it, since they’re soooo in love.”

“You could come stay with me,” Roscoe announces. Because yep, he’s here, too. Unlike me, he’s currently a federal agent. And now he’s on Malone property. “I told you a million times, Ipo. This isn’t safe or smart, and he?—”

“She’s staying with me.” Micah loops his arm under mine, taking most of my weight and barely sparing a glance for my brother. “I’m not asking. And I’m not offering an alternative.”

Roscoe’s eyes flare wide. His temper tipping as he anxiously searches the grounds for sharpshooters. For an attacker.

I wish I was kidding.

“She’ll have around-the-clock help here and doctors on staff. The house is large enough to cater to her needs, and I’ll be here.” He glances down and grins. “You need to be here with me.”

“I’m staying.” Twisting my head, I glance back at Roscoe. “I’m staying with him. Don’t tell the cops.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He drags a hand through his hair and groans. “I’m not sure I can get on board with this, Ipo! You’re becoming one of them.”

“He always whine this much, Grá, or only when he’s sexually frustrated and Jazzy isn’t around to help relieve the tension?”

“When she…” Stunned, I look up and meet his gaze. “What?”

He shakes his head as Malone family employees tug my bags from the back of the car and start toward the house. “You can’t tell me you don’t see it.”

“Don’t see what? There’s nothing to see.”

“Then you’re blind.” He looks back to Roscoe. “You can come in, if you want. Or you can stay there. But be aware, I’m going inside, and once I’m gone, you’re just a Fed in the yard, and my men aren’t always smart enough to know which ones they should shoot and which they shouldn’t.”

“Dude!” Roscoe slams the car door and jogs our way. “My sister is a Fed. You make damn sure your men know who to shoot.”

“She’s not a Fed anymore,” Micah chuckles. “Last I heard, she was unemployed.”

“Actually—”

I spin and squeak, tugging my stitches and hissing. But none of that really matters because Felix Malone arrives at the top of the stairs leading into the house. His suit pressed and expensive. His eyes… somewhat homicidal and on the wrong side of sane.

He smiles. But I’m not entirely sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“Welcome home, Former Special Agent Hale.” He rocks to the back of his heels, taunting as Micah leads me across the driveway and to the bottom of the stairs. The daunting thought of climbing them leaves me a little sweaty. Then he looks past us and sneers. “Roscoe. Suddenly my home stinks of narc. I don’t like it.”

“I’m not leaving her. Not till I’m good and ready.” Roscoe comes up on my left, his shoulder touching mine and his proud chin jutted forward. “Not even if the fuckin’ mob says so.”

“Then I guess we got us a conundrum.”

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