Page 140 of Dark Surrender

With a firm nod, I fish Iris’s ring outta my pocket and slide it onto my pinkie finger. Emotions clog my throat as Pops starts the van and music fills the dead air. Just before I get out to handle business, I snatch the final piece of my plan from the cupholder and exit with my cane. Pops waits on the road as I amble to the porch, where I set a pair of chopsticks I got at dinner last night. I ring the doorbell, then half-ass rush to her driveway, where I wait.

To go reunite with Kali, my father lifts a hand in goodbye, and I reply in kind as my heart beats out of my fucking chest, waiting for my woman to open the door.

It feels like years, though it can only be a minute or two tops, before the sexiest woman alive, wearing squirrel pajamas and looking adorably confused as hell, steps onto the stoop and takes one look at the chopsticks.

“Sweetheart,” I rasp from beside her truck, unable to wait another moment to feel those perfect eyes on me.

“Dark!?” she sobs as she clutches her chest.

Tears wreck my vision as I lean on my cane for help to get to my woman, to touch her, to feel her, to kiss her once more.

“Sweetheart.” I wince as my bad knee twists the wrong way, but I keep going, needing Iris like I need my next breath.

Racing down the steps, she runs across the grass barefoot until she’s right here, with me.

I reach out with a trembling hand and cup her cheek to know this is real.

“Hi,” she croaks.

“I’m sorry.” I hate that I did this to her, to us. To have been apart for so long. For her not knowing what happened to me.

My beautiful woman wraps her arms around me and buries her face between my pecs. My entire body sags in relief. Her familiar scent drifts into my nose, and her warmth fills me. It’s heaven. Undeserved perfection. Just as she is, for not slapping me, not being angry, just happy to have me here. A dam cracks open in my chest, and I suck back a sob that threatens to bring me to my knees. I have her. With me. Iris. The woman in my dreams. The woman I fuckin’ love.

We stand like this together on the lawn. I don’t know for how long, but it’s never enough. When she pulls back and helps me limp into her house, I drop onto her hideous couch with a sigh. I still can’t believe she’s kept this thing all these months.

“Do you need anything?” she asks, sitting next to me, her thigh touching mine.

Needing to be close, I rest my hand on her bare leg and smile through the tears. I pull the ring off my pinky and offer it to her.

“You. I just need you,” I croak, my throat thick with emotion. “Marry me.”

Iris’s face crumbles, and she collapses into my arms. I yank her onto my lap and cradle her there for as long as she needs. I’m here. I’ve got her. I’ll protect her, love her, and care for her, for always, from this day forward. There’s no leaving now. No more fuck-ups. No more doing this life alone.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Iris

He’s here. He’s here. He’s really, really here.

Wrapped in his big arms, I cling to Dark. His lips graze my bald head as he whispers sweet nothings.

I can’t believe this is real.

That… he’s alive.

He brought me a ring.

It bites into my palm as I crush my fist around it, and let the anguish, the relief, take me. For months, I’ve tried not to think about this day. The what-if. But he’s here now. His hot breath washes over my scalp. His chest moves. There is air in his lungs. Actual air.

“You’re alive,” I blubber.

“Yes, sweetheart. Of course, I am. I might not look the same, but I’m here.”

Never wanting to let him go, I grip the cotton of his shirt. “I don’t care what you look like. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Fuck, Iris. I…” Dark tosses his cane to the floor, and it lands with a thud. He scoops his arms under me and stands. He’s wobbly, and I cling to his neck as he slowly, with a mountain of curses, carries me to our bedroom, where he lays me gently on the bed.

Shrugging off his cut, he sets it on the nightstand and takes his time getting naked for me. I swipe the tears away so I can see all of him. Resting on my elbows, my breath stutters as Dark reveals himself fully. His half-hard cock hangs between thick tattooed thighs, but all I see is him. Just him. Not the scars. Even though there are a lot. Not the puckered burn marks. It’s just him. Dark. My Dark.