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My sister checked every remaining wound and contusion, bruise, and lump, finally declaring that I’d live, even with what she suspected were two cracked ribs. “If you start pissing blood, I need to know,” she said, packing away all the excess supplies and zipping the first aid kit shut. “No messing around either. Blood equals internal injuries, and I’m not fucking equipped to treat that at home.”
“Okay.” Christ, my mouth was dry.
“Gray, I’m serious.” She turned away to wipe the tears she didn’t want me to see from her face. “I can’t lose you as well.”
I touched her shoulder. “I promise, Filly.”
The tears grew larger at the sound of her childhood nickname. With one final squeeze on my shoulder, she rose from her crouched position beside the couch and cleared away all the bloody gauze and ripped open packets.
Sloane unfolded her arms and perched on the side of the couch beside me. Catching a lock of her hair, I twisted it around my finger—ignoring the goddamned pain bitching at me. She was too beautiful not to touch, and she caressed what little part of my face that wasn’t throbbing in time to my heart, and I leaned into it. I’d not allowed myself any comfort for so long. I always had to be the strong one, the one who protected the people I loved. Comfort was a foreign concept, but I wanted that comfort from Sloane.
I licked my dry lips, and she stood abruptly. “I’ll go get you some water.”
She was back a few moments later, and she helped lift my head to take a small sip from the bottle she’d gotten out of the fridge. When I’d had my fill, she settled me back into position and screwed on the cap.
“Fallon is pretty amazing,” she said.
“Aye, she is.”
“Quick to react. Didn’t waste time asking questions that didn’t matter.” She straightened her spine a little, rolling back her shoulders. Taking my hand in hers, she let me peek behind her strong façade, allowing me to see how much this all had upset her. “Seeing you on the floor, surrounded by blood…” Shaking her head, she drew in a deep breath and let it out. “When I first walked in, I… I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead, and I was too late.” She dropped her head into her hands like admitting that to me was somehow embarrassing.
I stroked her hair. “Sloane. Baby…”
“I don’t know when it happened or why, but…” She finally looked up at me. “Somehow, I’ve fallen in love with you, Grayson.”
My aching heart soared. “You love me?”
An earnest nod. “Yes.”
The weight that had been sitting on my chest was suddenly lighter. “Thank Christ, lass, because I love you, too. I’ve loved you since the first day I laid eyes on you.” I marveled at my woman. She was brave. Resourceful. Stalwart. Fucking stubborn. But she was mine. “Lay with me?” I asked her, my voice raspy.
She eyed my injuries with growing trepidation. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Every minute you’re not pressed against me is hurting me.”
Carefully maneuvering herself into position, she slid in beside me on the couch. With her head resting on my shoulder and her hand over my heart, I fell asleep.
Blissful.
Sated.
And free.
EPILOGUE
SLOANE
Two Months Later…
I let out a breath,hoping to dispel the nervous energy that went along with it, but it was no use. It was with me for the long haul. Grayson settled his large, warm palm onto my bouncing knee, and I turned to look at him.
“Everything will be fine.”
Biting my lip, I nodded. That was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one returning to the States—returning to a mother he didn’t even know—after being abducted and MIA for three months.
The plane jolted as the landing gears were deployed, the mechanical whirring sound filling the cabin. Around us, hundreds of people began to shift in their seats, the excitement of being in a completely new country amplifying.
Grayson squeezed my thigh again, and I stared down at the Celtic tattoo on the back of his hand. My eyes skated over to the solid gold wedding band now on his ring finger—the one that matched my own.
