Page 121 of Unexpected Heroine

He offers a tight-lipped nod in response.

I heave a purifying breath. “Well, as long as no one was hurt, I’m glad it’s gone. My only regret is not being able to see it burn.” I chuckle, mostly to myself, as I slip on the tank top.

For some reason, he pumps his fist in a tiny show of victory. “I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d want to see it. Hang on, and I’ll explain. First, let’s get you ready for bed.”

He dashes into the bathroom and returns with two things. Both of which are for me. My contact lens case and a brush.

My heart can’t take much more. I might be having palpitations from how much I love him.

By the time I’ve taken my contacts out, he’s kneeling on the bed beside me, brushing my hair. Then he braids it so it doesn’t tangle during the night.

It’s official.

Heart attack.

No EKG required for diagnosis.

Once we’re both in bed, we sit with our backs to the headboard, cuddling close together. He grabs his phone, tapping to open the photo gallery.

The first few pictures practically jump off the screen at me.

He passes me the phone, and I stare, slack-jawed. Utterly speechless.

Potentially for the first time in my life.

No clue how much time passes before I speak, and when I do, my tone is shaky and filled with a myriad of emotions. “Thank you.”

It’s all I can say.

No other words feel right.

After passing him the phone, I place a kiss on his chest, keeping my body fastened to his. “How was Tasha?”

“Okay, I think. She told me to make sure I took good care of her butterfly.”

“Did she look well?”

He offers a slow nod. “Physically, yes. Aside from some healing bruises and cuts.”

“And emotionally?”

“She was angry. Very protective of her boyfriend. She almost didn’t let us in the room.” His eyes stare off in the distance. “There’s quite a bit of love between them. They’ve both been through a lot. But they have each other. I think they’ll be okay.” His vision refocuses on me. “I hope they will be.”

Oh my heart.

Leaning close, he kisses my forehead and throws his arm around me, pressing me against his chest. Cupping the side of my head, he occasionally strokes my hair.

After the moment passes, he clears his throat and returns his cellphone to the nightstand. “Anyhow. Savin wasn’t too forthcoming because he was concerned about outliving his usefulness with us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the mafia doesn’t treat people well. Even their own. If they don’t hold value, they’re expendable at best. A liability at worst. I don’t blame Savin for assuming we’d do the same. He was afraid if he gave us all the intel we needed, we’d have no more use for him and take him out.”

“Wow. Poor guy. Did he give you anything helpful?”

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