Page 151 of Desperate Crimes

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Chapter Thirty-Eight-Nico Jr

Clean-up takes hours.

Obviously, I mean, it’s a lot.

Blood.Fire.

Shell casings.

Dead bodies and broken chains of command.

And through it all—she’s with me.

Leanna doesn’t flinch.

Not once.

My little wife stands beside me in her camo gear like a goddamn queen.

My queen.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.

Shecame for me.

She tracked me down, crossed a border, walked into a fucking war zone—and shot a man through the heart like she was born with a rifle in her hand.

Dead fucking center.

No hesitation.

Christ, I’m in love with her.

And I’m furious.

That she put herself in danger.That she riskedeverything.

But mostly, I’m stunned.

I underestimated her.

And I’mnevermaking that mistake again.

Relief courses through me every time I look at her, and for the first time in nearly eight weeks, I canbreatheagain.

Eventually, we make it to the fallback compound—bare bones, off-grid, surrounded by trees and dirt and stone.

There’s an outdoor shower rigged with cold water and a slab of concrete for a floor.

I strip down and step under, letting the freezing cascade pound the blood and grime off me.

Every ache, every bruise, every broken rib—I take it.

Because Iearnedit.

And because I survived to come back to her.

When I emerge, dripping and clean in nothing but camo pants and a faded black T-shirt, she gasps.

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