Page 83 of Savior

“Oh, God, look at you,” Sloane says, grabbing his hand and holding it to her lips. “Does it hurt awful?”

Lorenzo grins, blood staining his teeth. “I’ve had worse.”

“Please tell me that’s not true, and you’re only saying it because it’s what they say in the movies,” she replies.

Despite the obvious pain he’s in, Lorenzo laughs. “I wish I could, Ms. Sloane. Listen, I wanted to thank you. You broke protocol to save me. You’re the priority, not me. You showed me more about loyalty and love than I’ve ever been privy to before tonight. And you’re not even family. If I’m honest, you’ve renewed my faith in humanity.”

Sloane kisses his hand. “Of course, I had to save you. How would we finish watchingWalking Deadif you’re six feet under?”

Lorenzo chuckles again, coughing a bit afterward. Sloane sits on the side of the slab, not caring that his blood is slippery on the metal still from the surgery.

“When all this is over, we’re going to finish the show, right?” she asks him, and I can’t understand why that’s important to her right now, with everything going on.

It occurs to me she might try to get him to make a pact with her so that he lives. Knowing that she has something to return to and finish when this is all over.

“Oh, absolutely, we’re going to finish, Ms. Sloane. You keep yourself safe, and I’ll get better, and we’ll meet at the end of this thing, yeah? But you have to promise me something,” he rasps.

She nods, tucking in closer. “Anything.”

“Don’t run from the priest again. Stay hidden with him until it’s all over, alright? Let us mafiosos do our job to get you safe again, hm?”

Sloane looks back at me, and it’s as if she’s registering that I’m here for the first time, even though I’d been holding her only an hour ago.

“I promise,” she says, turning back to Lorenzo.

It’s odd how quickly she’s integrated into this lifestyle, better than I ever could. Even when we were busting trafficking rings, and I was wavering in my faith, I never felt as solid in this life as she seemed to be as I watched her lean over and kiss Lorenzo’s forehead. Dante is at Lorenzo’s feet, and Sloane hugs him and whispers something in his ear that makes him laugh.

“Will do, Ms. Sloane.”

It’s like she belongs here with them.

And I can’t deny that being in this room with them feels like I’m with family. More so than I ever felt with my own.

It’s Sunday, which means I’ll need to call Mama and give her some excuse for not making our dinner again, as I did last week. And when John finds out I’m on sabbatical, I’ll never hear the end of it.

But as Sloane comes to my side and tucks into me, I instantly know it’s worth it.

Only three hours later, we’re sitting on a private plane, both our eyes front as the plane’s nose tips into the air for take off.

Neither of us has spoken since earlier when I was holding her as she cried.

And I don’t know what to say, either.

So I don’t say a word.

I grip her hand I’ve been holding for hours and stoically let her know I’m here.

I don’t know where we’re headed or what awaits us when we get there, but I know that we have people who care about us both back in New York, fighting for us to return to our lives and return to normal.

But a little voice in my head tells me nothing about our lives will be normal again after this.

Even if I want to ignore it, I know it’s right.

I can feel it in my gut.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SLOANE

---