Page 96 of Broken Discipline
“We can stay in Fairview. We can move back to Opulent Gates.” I lifted my shoulders. She had lived so much of her life trying to do what was best for everyone else, and now that we were all okay, I wanted her to make a decision because shewantedto. “Whateveryouwant.”
She nodded to herself, and I squeezed her hand. Leon went down the slide, and Larkin followed him on her stomach, crashing on top of him.
“What about one of the other neighborhoods in Fairview?” Kylie asked. “Outsideof Opulent Gates. Like a nice community, but not so—” she tilted her head, “—not so secretive and murderous? I don’t know. It might be good to keep Zira as a friend.”
Zira certainly wasn’t the kind of person I wanted on our bad side.
“I’ll buy a plot of land,” I said. “We can build your dream house.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?” she asked.
I beamed down, gazing into her deep amber eyes. Energy wrestled inside of me; I both wanted it to be our future already so that I could see that look on her face when she finally saw our completed home,andI wanted time to slow down so that I could savor every moment with her. Kylie trusted me now, and that gave me more comfort than I could imagine.
“Whatever you want,” I said. “I promise, Kylie. I’ll always take care of you.”
“I love you,” she whispered, burying herself in my arms. Everything inside of me tightened and warmed around her. I kissed her forehead.
“And I love you, Kylie Carter,” I said.
EPILOGUE
four months later
Finn
The corpse collapsed on the floor. Bloodshot eyes. A twisted face. Another fatal ‘heart attack.’ I adjusted my gloves, then exited the house. A member of the Marked Blooms Syndicate had wanted their greedy estate manager taken care of in a clean, efficient manner, and as always, Carter Care took the contract.
After notifying the client, I drove through Opulent Gates. My biggest clients continued to be the Marked Blooms Syndicate members, though my work rarely took meinsideof the community. I didn’t trust the Syndicate. Never had and never would. But they were business, and as long as Kylie and the twins were safe, I could fight in their trenches.
The stone-siding of the earthy colored Astley Mansion came into view, though it no longer belonged to the late Bruce Astley. In the driveway, an older husband with gray hair clicked a button on his key fob, his convertible beeping. The front door opened; a young woman with red hair and thick legs greeted him with a baby in her arms. Their relationship was likely another product of an arranged marriage between two strangers, ending in the hope of a better life.
But our life was outside of these gates.
About half an hour later, after a stop at a gas station and a short drive over, I arrived at our rental home. It was on a big piece of land, farmhouse-style with a wraparound porch and rocking chairs. We didn’t know how long our dream house would take to build, and I wanted Kylie to be as comfortable as possible while we waited. I grabbed a plastic bag from the passenger seat and took in the view. The house belonged in a country town where you’d find a freshly baked pie inside, not in Fairview where a private chef did all of your cooking for you. But I loved it, and so did Kylie. She had even designed our dream home around this rental.
Kylie opened the front door, holding her lower back. She was beginning to show, her belly swelling, making room for our next family member. Her face glowed like the setting sun, her hair shining in brown ribbons. She was completely gorgeous.
“Hey,” she said, a smile on her face. Larkin and Leon jumped up by her sides.
“Daddy!” Larkin squealed.
“How was karate?” I asked Larkin.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Good. Good.”
“And school?” I asked Leon.
“I got an A-plus on my food project!” he shouted.
I ruffled his hair, and they both beamed at me, then ran out to the grass. I swear, the older they got, the quicker time flew. But at least now, I could see those changes every day. I wouldn’t miss a thing.
And I could see Kylie on every step of the way with the birth of our third child. I pulled a bottle of pink lemonade from the plastic bag and handed it to her. It was her current pregnancy craving, and she had told me that luckily, the morning sickness was nonexistent this time.
She gasped. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
She kissed my cheek. “You spoil me.”
