“Drop it!” she yelled.
His hand moved. She didn’t know if he was preparing to fire at Caine or turn the piece on her. She didn’t wait to know. She pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times, more.
Despite their proximity, it took several shots before she hit him where it counted enough that he finally went down.
But he did go down. She approached him like he was a snake that would strike again, and she kicked his gun away from his reach.
Bleary, hateful eyes glared up at her. “Such a disappointment, after all my…work.”
She raised the gun again. A hundred percent prepared to shoot and end this once and for all. But then a terrible gurgling sounded out from his throat, and he fell eerily quiet, utterly still.
Stunned and shaky, Emma went to the ground at Caine’s side again. Unfocused icy blue eyes swam up at her, and then he attempted to roll to his side, but couldn’t quite manage it. But that was enough to make her clutch his hand and squeeze it tight—and say everything she should have said sooner. “Thank God, Caine. Please be okay, baby. Please be okay so I can tell you how sorry I am and how much I love you.”
Slow blinks were her only response.
And then sirens bore down on them. Cars skidded to a stop. Voices yelled. Weapons waved. Emma threw away her gun and held up her hands. “Help us,” she cried. “He’s hurt.”
Chaos descended. Cops wanted to talk to her. Paramedics wanted to examine her. Other Raven Riders asked what’d happened.
But all Emma wanted was to get back to Caine. And make sure he was okay.
Chapter 16
Caine came awake on a hard gasp and found his chest and hips strapped down. He fought the restraints like a motherfucker—because they were keeping him from finding Emma.
“Emma!” he shouted. “Emma!” God, please let her have survived this. Please let her still be here. Please let me have kept my promise, just this one time. “Emma!”
Hands pinned his arms.
And then a face loomed over his. “Caine, stop. Stop, man. It’s us. Emma’s here. They’re checking her out.” Dare. It was Dare.
“She’s…”
He nodded. “Banged up but good.”
“Fuck, fuck, her stalker is after us! Let me…up,” he growled.
“He’s gone. It’s over,” Dare said.
Suddenly Caine was free. Up. On his feet and searching for the threat. But the road tilted and he landed against somebody’s chest. Hands held him upright.
“Sir, we need to finish examining you,” a voice called.
“I got him,” Dare said. “If you can get Emma over here this will get a lot easier.”
“Emma,” Caine said, his gut roiling with the fear that he’d failed again. He wouldn’t survive it. He wouldn’t want to. His hands fisted in Dare’s cut. “I gotta protect her.”
“She’s coming. Just slow your roll and get your wits about you. You took a bit of a header and redecorated the ground with a little skin. You don’t want to worry her, right?”
Caine nodded, the words slowly but surely making sense. As if parts of him were coming back online one system at a time.
“You should know,” Dare said, nailing him with a stare. “She’s the one who took the guy out.”
He hadn’t even processed that when something else demanded his attention more.
“Caine!” The voice was like a magnet. He turned and he and Emma were in each other’s arms. “Caine,” she moaned, shoulders shaking.
“Oh, sweetness, are you okay?” he asked, his hands running all over her. Making sure she was really real. It was hard as hell to break their connection, but he held her back from him, needing to know. Needing to see. And, aw, God, she was beautiful. Dirt on her face and hair a mess and angry-looking road burn on her chin. Beautiful.
Her hands cupped his neck. “I’m okay. I’m okay, Caine. All because of you. You saved me…”
“Christ, I’m sorry you had to be the one to end this,” he said, hating that she’d forever have that memory. He knew firsthand how such things could eat at you in the dark of night.
“I’m not,” she rasped, those blue eyes so bright with life. “And we ended it together, Caine. But how are you? I was so scared. You wouldn’t wake up at first.”
He pulled her into his arms, needing her heat against him more than he needed his next breath. “I’m fine. But, oh, fuck, I’m not fine. I’m so goddamn sorry.” His voice cracked as he suddenly remembered everything that led up to the crash. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. Can you ever forgive—”
Emma kissed him. Her tongue in his mouth. Her arms around his neck. Her body pressed tight. It was forgiveness and acceptance in a physical act, and he felt it into his very soul.
Deep and slow, he kissed her back for everything he was worth. And for the first time, he actually believed he was worth something. To her. His injuries faded. The people disappeared. And they were alone and safe.
“Did you hear me before?” she asked when she pulled back from the kiss. Her eyes were blue fire looking at him, looking into the very depths of him.
“I…I don’t know.”
She rested her forehead against his. “Then let me tell you again. I love you. Every bit of you. Your past and your present and your mistakes and your strengths. I love you, Caine. Nothing else matters to me. And trust me, I’ve considered it all.”
A sob ripped up his throat. His arms went around her and he pressed his mouth to her hair. “I…Christ…I fucking love you, too. I wasn’t sure I knew what it was, Emma. Or maybe I didn’t believe I was capable of it. But I came awake and you weren’t there and in that moment I knew my whole world began and ended with you.”
They fell into each other again, but suddenly there was a mob around them.
“When did all these people get here?” Caine asked.
“He really needs to be seen,” a paramedic argued. And was that Dare’s voice? Phoenix’s? Everything was too much for Caine to make sense of it.
“We’ll go,” Emma was saying. “We’ll both go. But only if you can transport us in the same ambulance.”
Caine pulled Emma into his chest, not caring in the slightest that he suddenly felt about two dozen bruises all down his front. Or that all these people might’ve heard their words. Funny how nearly losing the most important thing in your life suddenly made what mattered most so fucking clear. And that was her. Them. Together.
Caine nodded. “What she said. Because no one’s ever separating us again.”
* * * *
Five Weeks Later
“I protest you going back to work,” Caine said, tempting Emma to stay right there in their bed where they’d spent so much of the past month. After the accident and the investigation into the stalking, she’d taken a leave of absence that was now coming to an end. And she regretted it, too.
She chuckled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. The one with ink covering scars. God, he was so beautiful. “No one will pay me to stay in bed all day.”
He reached for his wallet on the nightstand, the stretch making him groan just a little. Neither of them had broken anything, and both were nearly fully healed up, but it was amazing how long a body continued to feel a head-on collision with the large immovable object known as the ground. He counted bills out onto his naked chest. “I got sixty-seven dollars. How much more time will that get me?”
Emma laughed, absolutely in love with this new silly side. And his hopeful side. And the side of him that looked toward the future—and saw himself there. Really, she just loved all of him.
Some of his newfound—and hard-fought—optimism was having the threat behind them—Caine knew more about it than Emma did. She didn’t want to hide from the truth, but her psyche didn’t need all the disturbing details, either. What she’d been willing to learn was that Wilkerson had targeted her from almost his first day at Frederick Elementary, judging by time stamps on photos and videos they found on his phone. But now that was a
ll over. And Emma had quickly been cleared of any wrongdoing in his death.
Some of it was the way they’d opened up to each other in the wake of nearly losing everything. Shooting Wilkerson was something she’d remember forever. Taking a life wasn’t a memory she liked having, but it also wasn’t something she regretted. Not given the circumstances. And it gave her a whole new understanding of the shooting Caine had described to her. She couldn’t blame him for it, not when Emma would’ve shot her attacker again even after she’d disarmed him. It was a terrible thing to know about herself, but it was true. And they didn’t hide from the truth.
For Caine’s part, opening up had meant that he had to face the trauma he’d endured. He had to walk through the terrible messy pain of it. It’d taken him four introductory appointments before he found someone he thought he could actually talk to, but he had found someone, and he was going to therapy. And that was huge.
“Dude, I’m sorry, but sixty-seven dollars is not enough for all this.” She slipped out of bed and strutted her nakedness to the door. If she didn’t get in the shower soon, she was going to see her kindergartners again smelling like two hours of sex.
“What about this, then?”
The oddness of his voice made her lean back in the doorway. “What?”
Caine was getting on his knees by their bed. Also totally naked. He held a blue velvet box in his hand that he opened while she watched.
“Caine,” she gasped, the room spinning around her.
“Marry me,” he said, those odd, pale eyes nearly glowing. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, and you have been since the first moment we met. You’re already my everything, Emma. So marry me.”
She went to her knees in front of him, and thought it was perfection that they were both bare in this moment. “Anything, Caine. Everything. You know I want it all with you. I’ll marry you. How could I not when I love you so much?”
He slipped the ring on, a commitment to always be there for each other. To always believe. To always try.
A commitment they made every one of the many days, months, and years that followed after that. Years that included Emma finishing her graduate degree, Caine becoming a regular volunteer at the LGBT youth center they’d donated to that first Christmas, and a baby girl with Emma’s blond hair and Caine’s pale eyes. A daughter they named Grace.
* * * *
Also from 1001 Dark Nights and Laura Kaye, discover Hard As Steel, Hard To Serve, and Eyes On You.
A Note from the Author
In Ride Dirty, Emma shares her new Christmas Day tradition of choosing a child-related charity to support. Her possible choices so align with Caine’s own experiences that he’s blindsided by unexpected emotion. That scene was incredibly emotional for me to write, and the depth of my own reaction surprised me, too. But it’s easy to know why—in researching which charities Emma might give to, I immersed myself in the experiences of the children who desperately need these organizations. And that got me right in the heart.
If you would like more information about or would like to donate to organizations like CASA and the LGBTQ center/shelter that they discuss, here are a few to consider. Of course, there are similar organizations that need your help in communities around the country—no doubt including yours. I encourage you to look, donate, and volunteer locally, too.
National CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates) http://www.casaforchildren.org/
Maryland CASA (where the series is set) http://marylandcasa.org/
True Colors Fund https://truecolorsfund.org/ - Mission: to end homelessness among lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender youth, creating a world where all young people can be their true selves.
The Ali Forney Center, New York City https://www.aliforneycenter.org/ - Mission: to protect LGBTQ youths from the harms of homelessness and empower them with the tools needed to live independently
The Trevor Project (LGBT crisis intervention and suicide prevention) https://www.thetrevorproject.org/
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Loving her is the biggest fight of his life…
Home from the Marines, Noah Cortez has a secret he doesn’t want his oldest friend, Kristina Moore, to know. It kills him to push her away, especially when he’s noticing just how sexy and confident she’s become in his absence. But, angry and full of fight, he’s not the same man anymore either. Which is why Warrior Fight Club sounds so good.
Kristina loves teaching, but she wants more out of life. She wants Noah—the boy she’s crushed on and waited for. Except Noah is all man now—in ways both oh so good and troubling, too. Still, she wants who he’s become—every war-hardened inch. And when they finally stop fighting their attraction, it’s everything Kristina never dared hope for.
But Noah is secretly spiraling, and when he lashes out, it threatens what he and Kristina have found. The brotherhood of the fight club helps him confront his demons, but only Noah can convince the woman he loves that he’s finally ready to fight for everything.
* * * *
Noah had really gone and done it now, hadn’t he? Opened his mouth and spewed his poison at one of the most important people in his life. And tonight was supposed
to be all about making amends.
Goddamnit, the minute he came out of that flashback he should’ve gotten the hell away from her. He’d just been so shell-shocked by how realistic it had seemed. The anti-aircraft fire. The crashing Blackhawk. The screaming chaos. He’d been even more stunned that Kristina had kissed him to pull him back—and that it had worked.
He shook his head, ignoring the fuck out of the wave of dizziness that threatened, and grabbed the doorknob. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
“No,” she said, her voice stern. Frowning, he dragged his gaze to her to see her fingers working at the knot in her dress’s belt. She pulled it apart and let the fabric fall. The dress swung open, baring her all down the front. “You need me. Have me.”
He blinked, once, twice, and his jaw fell open.
Jesus. She was beautiful, gorgeous, a fucking fantasy of soft, feminine curves. His pulse beat so hard he could feel it beneath his skin. Everywhere.
Noah gripped the doorknob harder, anchoring him in the moment. Keeping him from taking something that wasn’t his to take. No matter how much he might want it. “Kris—”
“Have me, Noah.” She shrugged the dress off her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a soft rush, leaving Kristina standing there in a pair of strappy silver sandals and a matching pale blue and white satin bra-and-panty set.
He couldn’t do this. Not to her, not to them. But his brain seemed to be the only part of him riding the do-the-right-thing train. Because his heart wanted. And his cock fucking needed. He licked his lips and shook his head, feeling solid ground slide out from beneath his feet with every breath. “I’m a fucking wreck, Kristina.”