Page 116 of The Dark Before Light

“Dylan, if you get out of my sight right now, I’ll pay for you and Sven to have a three-week vacation in Maui.”

His eyes grow wider than I’ve ever seen them. He chokes on a breath. I pat his shoulder and skirt around him, striding past the pool and across the grass.

When I’m several feet away, Talia senses me and turns with a smile. I take a moment to soak in the sight of her: my brilliant, resilient, utterly bewitching goddess—who also happens to be a natural at Judo. Sven thinks she’ll have a yellow belt in another week and is confident he can get her to a black belt in four years. He’s already sending me links to islands, trying to call my bluff.

Only I wasn’t bluffing. If he gives Talia the means to never again feel defenseless against a bigger adversary, he’s getting his damn island.

I open my arms and Talia slips into my embrace, her head tucked beneath my chin. Sucking her scent into my lungs, I stroke her back, hips, and arms to cement what my sight couldn’t fully convince me of: that she is real, safe, and mine.

When the sharpness inside me finally dulls, I kiss her head. “Thanks for letting me grope you.”

She looks up, eyes teasing. “No complaints here.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “How was your day? How’s Gabe?”

“The day was good,” she says, smiling. “I wrote another chapter. It’s really starting to flow.”

“I can’t wait to read it.”

In addition to being my literal soulmate, I’ve discovered—to no surprise—that Talia is an incredible writer. She’s going to destroy every bestseller list with her book, a mix of memoir, psychology, and kink education.

Her fingers play along my jaw. “As for Gabe, he’s antsy and irritable as usual. The nurses will probably throw a party when he’s released in a few days.”

I chuckle. “No doubt.”

Within hours of waking up from surgery to remove a thankfully small caliber bullet and sew up a hole in his lung, Gabe was asking when he’d be cleared to return to work. When I broke the news that I was putting him on paid leave for five months of rehab, he looked like he wanted to take a swing at me. He changed his tune when Talia told him about the beachfront rental and private chef waiting for him. Now all he wants to do is get out of the hospital so he can sunbathe and sip smoothies while ogling bikini-clad women.

Talia tucks her head back against my chest, snuggling closer as the wind kicks up. “That press conference was insanity. I’m glad you convinced me not to go or I might have tested a few Judo moves on that reporter at the end.”

Grinning, I lift the heavy mass of her hair and palm her neck, massaging it lightly. “I would have liked to see that, but full disclosure—he was a plant, albeit an ignorant one. Turns out his bosses aren’t too fond of him.”

Her head lifts, an eyebrow cocked.

I wink. “Chess, mo ghrá.”

Her laugh is mostly a groan, but she sobers fast. “Sven told me about the call you got while you were prepping for the conference this morning. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I’m here for you. Always.”

Her love burns through me, peeling off the final scraps of the mask I maintained all day.

With a heavy sigh, I bury my face in her hair. “I don’t know how to feel about it. Part of me is relieved—so fucking relieved—but another part of me is having a hard time believing it. I’m so accustomed to the guilt, I’m not sure how to let it go.”

This morning, the LAPD’s chief of police personally called me to relay that of all the charges Oliver and Lyle are facing, there’s one crime they had nothing to do with.

Liz’s murder.

There’s absolutely nothing linking the men to her carjacking, which took place more than four months before Lyle approached Oliver for the first time. Liz’s death was exactly what the cops always said it was: a tragic, random crime that had nothing to do with me.

“Breathe with me,” murmurs Talia. “Feel the wind. Feel my arms. Hear the ocean. Breathe.”

I do as she says and my heartbeat slows, the vice around my chest loosening a fraction. The past recedes, my feet sinking into the present with her.

“A tropical beach,” I murmur. “You, me, warm sands, turquoise water. You can bring your laptop and work on your book. I’ll feed you mangoes and orgasms.”

Her laughter is the sweetest sound in the world.

A hard gust of wind brings the first raindrops to our heads. We look up at the same time the sky decides to open and dump an atmospheric river on us. We’re soaked in seconds.

Talia laughs in delight, arching back in my hold and spreading her arms to embrace the storm. Trusting that I won’t let her fall.

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