Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 129408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Cade shook his head, grinning. “She never really was one for patience.”
“Don’t I know it,” Luke murmured.
She was chaos, and he knew it. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. There used to be days when he lived for order, structure. He thought that was him, that was right.
Fuck was he glad she proved him wrong.
“Might be a good thing she’s not here,” Luke continued. “Been talking to my contact at the state department. They’re building a case against Fernandez. A case that’s almost airtight. They just need some more info.” He glanced to Wire.
“You honestly telling us you expect us to fucking snitch?” Lucky spat.
Luke regarded him. “Yeah, I know it goes against everything you stand for. Want to ride in with bullets and blood. But that leads directly back here. To your home. To your women. Make no doubt about it, we need to do this another way. A way that would never trace back to us, and the strong arm of the law would never lead back to men who would rather die than help out the law,” Luke said.
“Damn fucking right,” Gage muttered.
Brock eyed him. “I’m hoping you’ve got a plan once he’s arrested? You’re not asking us to be happy that he’s getting three square meals a day and a warm bed behind bars?”
Luke regarded him. Then the table. “Of fucking course not. It’s after that that the blood comes. We take the whole fucking operation down.”
Cade smiled.
“Then maybe we can work something out.”
And Luke knew they could.
They fucking had to. Because no way would he sleep easy knowing that fucker was sleeping, eating, breathing, fucking on the same planet as Rosie.
They’d get him.
And he’d die.
And Luke couldn’t fucking wait for that day.
Epilogue
Rosie
One Year Later
I hate to say things like ‘the end’ and ‘we lived happily ever after.’ Because neither of those things would be true, even if I could see the future. I didn’t have to be clairvoyant to know this wasn’t the end. No way, no how. And I was smart enough to know that Luke and I wouldn’t always be happy. Humans are never always happy. Even with the only person on earth they’re meant to be with, there’s going to be anger, pain, tears. But the joy, love, and laughter outweigh that.
But for the sake of it, it was the ending for the time being.
The ending, so far, had been soft.
Anticlimactic.
We got married about two weeks after we found the perfect house. A home. I didn’t care about marriage, really. But I wanted Luke to be mine. Legally. If that was one law I’d stick with for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.
Our lives were still chaos. We were a husband and wife team who doubled as bounty hunters and beat up lowlifes for hire. So chaos was the nine-to-five. And we liked it that way.
But in each other, we found peace.
There were dramas. Cupid wasn’t finished with the Sons of Templar, so there were dramas. Fucking big ones when we finally got Fernandez. And his death was proving to last a long time.
There were also other dramas. But they weren’t our own.
We’d had enough.
To fill up one lifetime. To fill up three.
So we deserved this soft—kind of—ending, for the beginning was hard and full of pain.
There was still pain. Because you can’t have life, can’t have love, without it.
But that pain was bearable. Because that pain was meant to be.
Because that pain was us.