Page 112 of Fight Or Flight

“I’m trying to get the whole thing on video, but this lady won’t stop attacking me.” Suddenly, Lauren reaches Riggs and pushes him away from the old lady.

“Go!” she shouts. “We’re right behind you.”

And they are.

The whole lot of them.

Robert lifts Bella onto his shoulders and Anthony races alongside him. Wheezing and all Wolf trots along too, dragging Maria and her incredibly high heels with him. Uncle Gangster and Adrianna are close behind too. When they finally catch up to me an overwhelming sense of belonging washes over me. I hope my mom is smiling. I pray she finds peace in knowing I landed safely and with an overflowing heart.

“Well, don’t keep him waiting,” Lauren pants.

“I’m ready,” Riggs assures.

“Oh, wonderful,” Maria mutters. “Whatever would we do if the camera boy couldn’t film? You do know they have phones that do this kind of thing.”

“Thanks, Mama Leone. What would I do without you?”

As they continue to bicker, Lauren squeezes my hand and urges me to go find Eric. Without a moment’s hesitation I turn and gaze at the sea of blue, my eyes passing over every proud soldier’s face until they finally land on my soldier.

Standing perfectly tall, he’s the epitome of bravery.

Of strength and resilience.

He is the beautiful that stands tall and proud after the storm.

My hand flies to my mouth, covering the gasp and tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision as I walk toward him. Reaching him, I touch my hand to his shoulder and step around him. Our eyes lock and his stoic face immediately breaks into a grin.

The tears fall fast and furiously down my cheeks as I lunge for him. Wrapping his arms around me, he squeezes me with all his might, and I bury my face into his uniform. I will never underestimate the power of a hug as long as I live.

“Hey, don’t cry,” he murmurs against my hair.

I can’t help it, I don’t know that I can stop. The last fifteen weeks all come flooding back to me. All the lonely nights and all the worrying. The uncertainty and the longing. I’m afraid to let go because I don’t even believe he’s real.

“Brook, look at me.”

Sucking in a breath, I hesitantly lean back and stare up into those beautiful blue orbs.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi, my pretty little hurricane,” he says as he reaches up to cup my face. “I just want to look at you for a moment, is that okay?”

I nod.

“Please stop crying. I hate when you cry.”

“They’re happy tears,” I defend as his thumbs work to rid my cheeks of any wetness.

“God, I love you,” he rasps. Then he bends his head and takes my mouth and I swear it’s one of those kisses that make angels sing—but maybe I’m impartial.

Someone behind us whistles and I’m pretty sure it’s Wolf. The man really is an enigma. One second you think he’s going to keel over and have a heart attack, the next he’s cheering on his grandson.

When we finally break the kiss, Eric licks his lips and pats his pocket.

“Will you do the honors?”

Right—turning blue—I almost forgot.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and reach into his pocket, but instead of the cord all the other members are pinning to their soldier’s uniforms, my hand closes around a tiny box. Those pesky little butterflies take flight in my belly and this time I don’t wish for them to go away. This time, I pray they never leave me.

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