by Emilia Finn
I slap on the most convincing smile I can manage and cup his cheeks. “Hey, bello. Mommy’s okay.”
“She was a hero, huh? I saw her, and she was a hero.”
“Yes,” I burst out crying. “She was definitely a hero. She was our hero.”
“And Nix too?” he asks.
Just like me, Max is still finding his voice. But he’s trying. Every single day, as though making it his mission to speak so I’m forced to speak too, Max gifts us with more words.
“Nix is a hero,” he insists.
Smiling, Nixon kneels down beside me and runs his hand through Max’s hair. “I was just keeping my best friend safe. Because that’s what we do, huh? We watch out for each other.”
Max nods and fights the warmth flooding his cheeks. “Yeah. Best friends keep each other safe.”
Reaching out for Max, I pull him against my chest, and when he wraps his arms around my neck, I push up to stand and bring him up with me until his legs wrap around my hips.
He buries his face in my hair, snuggles in close, and whispers his love for me. He whispers his love for Nixon too—his hero.
Slowly standing beside me, Nixon groans from the aches of what he went through a little over a week ago.
To save Max from harm, Nixon took it all upon himself. He let Max lay in that hole with his back to the ground, while Nixon kneeled over him, holding the blanket down and securing what little oxygen they had. He braced Max’s shelter with his arms and knees, and when the ceiling above them began to break away, although the column kept the worst of the debris away, it was Nixon’s back that took the brunt of falling bricks, concrete, and whatever fell from the floors above.
Now, at night, Nixon’s paramedic brother comes to his home, where Max and I have been staying, and redresses Nixon’s wounds. He cleans them up, bandages, chatters with the brother he never gave up on, and despite the words we spoke that night, the harsh arguing, the fighting and name-calling between Mitchell and I, he holds no grudge now.
Mitchell is simply happy that his baby brother is alive and well, and to prove that, he smiles… all the damn time.
When he visits, Nadia does too. When she visits, Arlo tags along. When the whole gang is over, that means Abby is too, and though the crowd is large and intimidating, Max accepts them like the family they are.
Even Spencer.
Even Troy.
And God help us all, even the boisterous and over-the-top Beckett.
A little more than an hour after arriving at the cemetery across town, after the sweet, bubbly, always-ready-for-fun—according to the eulogy Nixon prepared—Cootes was lowered into the ground, our gathering breaks apart, and everyone makes their way to where they’re going.
Max remains plastered to my chest, but he’s small enough it’s not a hardship, and the fact I thought I lost him a little more than a week ago means I’ll continue carrying him until I’m physically unable to.
Nixon walks beside me, his hand on the small of my back, his chest touching the ball of my shoulder as we move. And every minute or so, as though making certain I’m still right here with him, he presses a gentle kiss to my temple and cuddles me close to his side.
“Where do you wanna go now?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” My voice is still scratchy from shouting, from smoke inhalation, and after all that, from the silence I cloak myself with the way others use a coat. It’s a crutch for me, a safety blanket I’m trying to do without. “Staying outdoors for a bit might be nice.”
Nixon looks up at the bright blue sky, and nods. “Wanna go to the lake? It’s too cold to swim, but the grass is nice, and I figure it’s a good place for us to hide out…” He smiles. “Or a good place to host a dozen people if we wanna do that instead.”
“Okay.” I lean my cheek against his chest and allow him to lead us onto Main Street.
In just a couple blocks, we’ll turn and head toward the lake that is this town’s hive in the summer… according to Beckett.
“Have you put more thought into what we talked about?” Nixon asks.
“Which thing?” I respond. “We’ve talked about a lot of things.”
“Well, the hotel,” he starts. “The Oriane was insured, so if you wanted to, you could rebuild.”
“I guess.”
I allow myself to see the sweet flowers in pots along Main Street. The bees that buzz around searching for their nectar. And a few feet up from a place called Franky’s Diner, a hummingbird that flutters beside a beautiful display of flowers.
I don’t know if the town is putting on its best today, all in memory of their fallen firefighter, or if the street was always this pretty, but I notice it all today. The flowers, the butterflies, the bees, and the birds. I glance through the shaded windows of the diner and catch sight of a young man in a Yankees cap, busily feeding a couple of small children. And when I squint further, I notice Nadia and Mitch moving nearby.
They were at today’s funeral too, but they took off as soon as Cootes’ loved ones did, and now they hover around a guy who can’t be a hell of a lot older than Arlo while he divides a plate of fries between himself and two small children.
“Do you know them?” Nixon asks me.
Glancing away from Nadia and her friends and up at him, I tilt my head to the side in question. “Huh? Nadia and Mitch?”
He chuckles. “No, I meant the kid and his entourage. I see him around a lot, but I’ve never met him.”
“I’ve met him.” I lean into Nixon when he tugs me closer, and we stop at the curb to cross the street. “He’s Nadia’s friend. He’s a sweet kid.”
“And the little kids with him?”
I shrug. “His siblings, I suppose. Though I’ve never asked. He’s really nice.”
“Hmm…” Accepting that, Nixon shrugs and leads us onto the opposite side of the street. “Okay. Have you thought about the other stuff we talked about?”
My heart jumps in my chest. A painful twinge that ends on a ray of hopefulness. “Which stuff?”
Grinning, Nixon presses another kiss to my temple. “I want you and Max to officially move in with me.”
“We kinda already have,” I admit with a furious blush warming my cheeks. “We’re a little bit homeless right now.”
“Well, when you’re no longer homeless,” he presses. “When you’ve decided what you’re going to do with the insurance money, when you can buy a house and leave me… will you consider staying anyway?”
“I mean…” I settle Max on my left hip, then wrap my right arm around Nixon’s stomach. “Do you promise to always come home to us?” I ask shyly. “Do you promise to always do your best to stay safe?”
“Always.” Nixon stops us just before the last corner leading to the lake, then placing his hands on my arms, he folds his neck and meets my eyes. “I promised you that already, and look what I got us through.” He presses a kiss to my lips and rests his forehead against mine. “Fastest runner in my entire third-grade class.”
Continue the Gilded Knights Series in Animal Instincts
Also by Emilia Finn
(in reading order)
The Rollin On Series
Finding Home
Finding Victory
Finding Forever
Finding Peace
Finding Redemption
Finding Hope
The Survivor Series
Because of You
Surviving You
Without You
Rewriting You
Always You
Take A Chance On Me
The Checkmate Series
Pawns In The Bishop’s Game
Till The Sun Dies
Castling The Rook
Playing For Keeps
Rise Of The King
Sacrifice The Knight
Winner Takes All
Checkmate
Stacked Deck - Rollin On Next Gen
Wildcard
Reshuffle
Game of Hearts
F
ull House
No Limits
Bluff
Seven Card Stud
Crazy Eights
Eleusis
Dynamite
Busted
Gilded Knights (Rosa Brothers)
Redeeming The Rose
Chasing Fire
Animal Instincts
Rollin On Novellas
(Do not read before finishing the Rollin On Series)
Begin Again – A Short Story
Written in the Stars – A Short Story
Full Circle – A Short Story
Worth Fighting For – A Bobby & Kit Novella