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I told her I’d never trust her, never forgive her.

I said we’d part ways forever.

No looking back.

But as I stare down at her listless body, I’m painfully aware that without her, there’s no looking forward.

My heart thumps as the medic examines her and checks her vitals. “I’ve got a pulse, but we need to get her to the hospital now to see how extensive the damage is.” He peers at her right shoulder. “There’s an exit wound, which is a really good thing.”

Heaven runs back outside with Aisling in her arms. “Oh my God, what happened to Anya?”

Matteo grabs her and Aisling. “She was trying to save me from your brother, Conor’s gun went off, and she took the bullet.”

Heaven’s eyes widen. “Jesus.” She looks quickly around, gasping when she sees Conor’s body splayed over the metal box, full of blood and bullet holes. “Conor…” Her voice trails off and she bites down on her lower lip, clutching Aisling. “With a quick look back at us, she makes a face. “If I say I wish it’d been me to do it, would that be really evil?”

“Yeah, but we already know that poison runs through your veins,” I mutter, looking at the medic. “I’m going with you in the chopper.”

“Okay.” Another EMT rushes over with a stretcher and together, they load Anya onto it.

I climb onto the chopper, holding Anya’s hand tight and clutching it to my chest. “I’m here, babe. And I promise, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” I swallow hard. “Because I’m in love with you,” I whisper.

And when her fingers give mine the tiniest squeeze in return, I know she hears me.

That’s all I needed.

A little shred of hope.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Anya

A groan slips through my lips when my eyes crack open. I’m surrounded by a sea of white — walls, furniture, bedding.

Shit, is this heaven?

Or a really sick twist on hell, since let’s face it, I’m no angel.

Then I tune into the bleeping machines around me, and my eyes drop to the wires connecting me to them.

Okay, so I’m not dead.

I try to shift on the mattress and a sharp pain zips down my right arm. “Ahh,” I mumble softly because I can’t seem to grab any more spare energy to really make my discomfort known.

The room is so bright, I have to squint so I don’t get a massive eye headache. I fling my left arm over my face, fuzzy memories becoming more and more sharp by the second.

Meeting Conor and my uncle.

The car ride back to the Excelsior.

Conor’s threats.

The hug from Dottie…

I liked that a lot.

It’s probably the first time I felt human in a damn long time, the first time in a while that I felt like maybe I could be better…good…maybe even loved.

And then the floodgates open and the rest of the events pummel me like a crushing wave.

Dante’s hand around my neck.

His terse voice telling me in no uncertain terms that we’re through.

I sweep my tongue over my dry lips.

But I still ran onto that roof.

I still tried to knock Conor’s gun out of his hand because I couldn’t let anyone else get hurt or see anyone else suffer.

Too much blood has been shed.

Too much rage has destroyed lives.

I couldn’t stand by and let something bad happen to innocent people.

Makes me feel like there’s hope for me.

A sliver of good I can cultivate.

I’ve hurt a lot of people in my life. Extinguished a lot of lives.

Some of them deserved it.

But did they all?

I never got a chance to make that determination. I only got the orders, no questions asked.

No ability to decline the instruction.

Someone like Conor? It’d have been a pleasure to put a bullet between his eyes.

But I can’t be this person anymore.

I want more.

The good things I’ve missed out on.

I probably screwed up my chance for that, but I know I did the right thing and that’s a start.

I swallow but my throat is drier than the Mojave. “Water,” I mumble weakly. “But…I…can’t…reach,” I whine to myself since I’m alone in this vast space.

The door to my room creaks open and I slide my arm slightly away from my eyes to see who it is. Maybe a nurse? Someone who can grab me a straw?

But it’s not a nurse.

It’s Dante.

And as I look up into his concerned gaze, I remember something else…

At least I think I do. I was in shock, bordering on unconscious.

Maybe it was just a manifestation of my need to be loved…by him.

He smooths my hair away from my face. “How are you feeling?”

I make a pained face. “Not great,” I croak.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Honestly, it was so fast, I only have little splotches of memories.” I point to the water on the nightstand. “Can you please get that for me?” I rasp.

He pours some into a cup, sticks a straw in it, and holds it up to my lips. I drink it down and as it slips down my parched throat, I truly believe that nothing has ever tasted so good.

When I finally finish and settle back against the pillow, I look up at him. “There is one thing that comes to mind,” I say in what is almost a whisper. If I didn’t really hear it the first time, I don’t know if I want to hear it now.

Not if it isn’t true.

Dante kneels down next to me, leaning his elbows on the mattress. “Tell me.”

“Well,” I start, clearing my throat. “It was just a few words and I was barely awake but I could swear I heard your voice in my ear saying them.”

“What were the words?” he asks.

“That you were, um, that you were…” My already low voice trails off and I avert my eyes. I can feel a rush of heat splash into my cheeks. “Um…” I peek at him and let out a snort as the grin stretches across his face. “You’re a real jerk, you know that? Here I am, lying in a hospital bed, shot, and you know exactly what I’m trying to say but you want me to sweat through it. Not cool.”

“Sorry. I guess it was me getting you back for invading my family and pretending you weren’t a Russian mafia assassin who was trying to steal my niece.” He snickers. “You deserved to sweat.”

I roll my eyes and wince as I twist toward him. “Was it true?”

He holds my gaze for a few seconds, then nods. “Yes. One-hundred percent.”

I let out a shaky breath. “You told me it was over and I understood why. I rushed Conor because it was the only way I could make up for what I’d done to you all.”

“I know.”

“I want to be a good person, Dante,” I say, tears stinging my eyes. “I don’t want to live inside of this empty shell anymore. I don’t want to carry any more hate and I don’t want to cause any more torment for others. I don’t want to live by someone else’s rules. I want to make my own choices, create my own happiness because I finally believe I can have it. And for the past week, I’ve seen what that can be. I had such a strong connection with you and Heaven and Aisling from the first time we met.” I giggle. “Not so much with Matteo, but maybe that’ll change now.”

“Just to be clear…” he says, lacing his fingers with mine. “You’re saying you want a new career?”

“I’m saying I want a new life.” I smile, bringing his hand to my heart. “Here, with you, if that’s still an option.”

“I think it can be arranged.” He brushes his lips against my forehead.

“And just for the record,” I say. “I’m in love with you, too.”

“Glad to hear it because you were really leaving me hanging there.” He winks at me.

“You could have waited and told me when I was conscious.”

“You’re right. But I’m not exactly conventional.”

I nod. “Understatement of the year.”

“So what the hell are we gonna do now?” he murmurs, tracing a finger down the side of my cheek. “Two retired assassins? Are we gonna open a flower shop or something? Or maybe a day care?” he says with a chuckle.