It had stopped bleeding, but yellow bruises had already begun to form on either side. Despite the circumstances, Amy couldn’t help but smirk.
“Fuck you,” said Danny.
“That’s not nice,” said Mike.
Danny sneered at him.
“Hope you enjoy my life,” he said. “My kid. My fucking wife. Everything I fucking own.”
Mike removed his hand from Amy’s shoulder and stepped forward, just before the medic closed the door. When he spoke, his voice was unchallengeable, and filled with authority.
“Let’s get clear on one thing, Danny. You can’t own a woman like this, no matter how much you try. You can only hope she thinks you’re good enough to stand beside her.”
“And you are?” Danny’s scoff ended in a wince as the medic strapped him down on the gurney.
Mike sighed. “I don’t know if I am, but I sure as hell know you’re not.”
Behind him, Amy smiled.
“You are,” she said as the medics shut the doors. And she pulled his face to hers and kissed him until she couldn’t hear the sirens, or the engines, or another single sound.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Reports were given, forms were signed, and for the first time, Amy pressed charges against her ex-husband, Daniel Elgin. It took a long time, well into the evening. At first a few brave onlookers gathered by the police caution tape that circled the area. Then more showed, until soon half the complex was peering at her, leaning against the bumper of Marcos’s cruiser.
Mike put his arm around her shoulder, and she hugged his waist, resting her cheek against his chest. At Mike’s house, the girls waited with Iris, safe, though still confused. She’d checked in on them before they’d left, comforted by the knowledge that they would work through what had happened. They had all the time they needed to heal.
She looked from Mike to Marcos, then thought of Alec, too, and all he’d done for her. Gradually, the heaviness began to break apart inside of her and fall to the ground. These men had cared enough to look for her, to defend and protect her. Maybe it should have made her feel small, and weak, but it didn’t. She wasn’t alone, didn’t have to take on everything herself, and that made her the luckiest girl in the whole world.
“Keep getting in trouble and you’re going to make me cop of the year,” said Marcos, beaming good-naturedly at the smear of Danny’s blood on the side of the SUV.
“You’re welcome,” Amy said.
“Amy? Amy!” It was her mother’s voice that cut through the crowd, and when she followed the sound she found Candace trying to duck under the caution tape while a uniformed officer pushed her back.
“She’s all right.” Marcos waved her through.
Amy was shocked by both her speed, and the flushed concern on her face. She almost asked what was wrong before she realized this was a stupid question.
“Mom, it’s all right,” Amy told her, breaking away from Mike and Marcos to meet her.
“It’s not all right,” said her mom. “Who are these men that attacked you?”
“I’m fine. They’re in jail now.” Amy was surprised when her mother hugged her and patted her back awkwardly. She smelled of rose perfume, and for some reason this softened Amy, and reminded her of when she was a little girl, and she and her mom used to do their hair together. It had been a long time since she’d thought about that.
“Thank God,” said Candace. “I worry about you so much.”
“I’m all right,” Amy’s voice was quiet now.
When Candace pulled back, there were tears in her eyes. She turned to Mike, and brushed some dirt off his shoulder. “Thank you, Mike.”
Mike nodded, and reached for Amy’s hand. She looked down at it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the warmth that travelled up her arm.
“Well,” said her mother. “I suppose you’ve had enough excitement for one night. You’ll probably want to be going home.”
“I do,” said Amy.
Her mom nodded, and forced a smile, then turned away.
“Wait.” Amy stepped forward. “We’re probably just going to get pizza. If you wanted to come over...”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to be an imposition.” Candace touched the gaudy gold cross around her neck.
“You wouldn’t,” said Mike. “It’d be nice to have you.”
Candace’s grin was undeniable. “Well. Well, okay then. I’ll just wait for you to finish up.”
Maybe the adrenaline had seriously messed with her brain, but as she walked back to her car, Amy was beaming.
“Come on,” said Mike. “Let’s go get a pizza.”
She grinned. “I like the way you think, Mike Stroud.”
Around them, the cops were beginning to wrap up and tear down the scene. One by one, her neighbors were returning to their homes. No doubt they’d have some excellent gossip to share for the next few weeks. Amy didn’t care. She was ready to go home.
After checking in with Marcos, Mike led her to his truck, pausing with his key in the passenger side door.
“More than I thought a man could love a woman, by the way,” he said.
She eyed him curiously.
“You asked how much I love you.” He faced her. “The answer is, more than that, and for the rest of my life.”
She placed a tentative hand on his chest.
“I get it, because of your ex...maybe you have a marriage aversion, or something.” All that felt very trivial now.
“A marriage aversion?” He blinked. “Amy, I want you any way I can have you. I’ve done the wedding thing, but we’ll have a fancy ceremony on a beach if you like. I just care about more. I want everything that comes after.”
She swallowed, and managed an unsteady, “Okay.”
He breathed in slowly. “I tried to love Denise,” he said. “But it wasn’t like this. If it had been, maybe it would have been enough for her.”
She could see then the worry she’d seen before. This had been the pain he’d carried, not uncertainty about his feelings for Amy. Guilt that he’d loved her, when he’d never felt that way about his own child’s mother.
“No,” said Amy. “You can’t do that. It’s not fair.”
“I know,” he said, the lines easing between his eyes. “I know that now.”
He pulled her closer, arms strong and warm around her. Everything outside faded—the lights and the sirens and the dark steel of Corbett Connolly’s gun. The cold went away. When he looked into her eyes there was only truth. No room for anything but the bare, vulnerable truth.
“For a long time all I could do was move forward. I didn’t care where I was going, as long as Chloe was all right. But then I met you, and you slowed everything down. You gave me a direction. A place to be.” His lips tilted up in a small smile. “Life is short, but I’ll love you every minute of it.”
She thought of his scars, his tattoos. The compass in the vines.
“What are you saying?” she asked.
“You know what I’m saying.” He grinned, just a little quirk of his lips.
She was pretty sure she stopped breathing. The future she’d wanted laid out before her in brilliant colors, waiting to be taken.
He came closer, and she tilted her chin up. His eyes were golden, and beautiful. She focused on his mouth, and the lines of his jaw, and the gentle feel of his fingertips brushing aside her hair.
Slowly, he lowered, and pressed his lips to hers. It was soft, and easy, but the feel of him that way punched sensation straight to her core. She gave a small groan, which she immediately swallowed, and then gasped as his grip suddenly tightened around her ribs.
She smiled shyly.
“I guess I’m a little wound up,” she admitted.
“Yeah,” he said, which meant, Me too. “Are you okay?”
The truth was she was okay. She’d survived worse before, and even if it wasn’t exactly healthy, barely a whisper of fear remained from the Fox’s attack. She was strong. She felt strong. For so long she
’d only really trusted herself. Knowing she wasn’t alone was more empowering than she’d ever dreamed it could be.
“I’m better than okay,” she said. “The bad guys are in jail, the girls are safe, and the hottest guy on the planet just told me he loves me.”
He smirked. “Just the planet? Not, I don’t know, the universe?”
“Eh.” She gave him a one-shouldered shrug. “Let’s not get carried away.”
He gave her side a playful squeeze and she twisted away with a giggle.
Everything within her was expanding, pressing against her ribcage. For the first time, the darkness from her past didn’t haunt her future. She was free, and safe, and loved.
Life didn’t get much better than that.
Epilogue
It was a rainy Thursday afternoon when Amy and Mike did the final walkthrough of the two-story, stucco home on the east side of Tampa. He was meticulous, going room to room to check window frames, knock on walls, and inspect for termites. She followed him, a pad of paper in her hand, hope expanding in her chest.
“No mold,” he muttered. “That’s good.”
“That’s great,” said Amy. At least, it sounded good enough.
“It’d be good to close off the study, maybe even add a wall around the balcony to create another room.”
“I was thinking of leaving that open,” she said. “Using it as a play space for kids. You know, beanbags, jungle animal decals. You could make those bookshelves that lay flat against the wall. The kind where you can see the front of the books.”
“Oh, can I?” He cocked one eyebrow over his shoulder.
She bit her bottom lip and slapped him on the ass.
Before she could dart away, he’d spun and captured her in his arms. Her feet dangled three inches off the ground as he held her against his body. The pad of paper had landed beside them on the floor, but she didn’t glance down at it. Her gaze was locked on his, and her whole body shimmered with the amusement in his bright eyes.
“Keep it up and we’re not going to finish the walkthrough.”
She trailed a fingertip down the length of his neck. “We could always do a quick christening. I mean, the place is practically ours anyway.”
“Yours,” he corrected, not unkindly.
The smile bloomed on her face. Tonight, pending everything went well, she would close on this house. The down payment was paid for in part by Danny’s child support, and the grant money she’d received to fund her new non-profit organization: Safehaven. Mike had helped her apply for the 501c3 after he’d passed the bar last summer, and together with Anna, and Carolyn, they were going to offer crisis counseling, family therapy, parenting classes, legal counseling, and self defense.
“Well,” she said. “Since I own it...” She kissed the tip of his nose.
“You don’t yet,” he said, setting her down, back to business. “The bedrooms are in good shape, but the bathrooms and the kitchen need updating.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” she said, waving her hand.
He chuckled. “Says the woman in charge.”
She waited while he checked the laundry hookups, not bothering to hide the fact that she was checking him out as he stretched his long body over the dryer.
“Keep it up,” he said again.
She giggled. “Do you think it could all be done by April?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. But I thought you didn’t want to open until July.”
“Well...” She swung her hips as she sauntered into the next room. “I might have to take a little time off in May and June.”
She waited one second, then two, then three.
“Amy?”
He was standing in the threshold of the laundry room, hands down loosely at his sides. She touched her stomach, feeling that same fluttering there that she always did when she looked at him. Only now it wasn’t just butterflies, but life. Life she and Mike had made together. Her blood was a little warmer, her breasts a little heavier, her cheeks a little more rosy.
She glanced down at her hand, and the silver braided ring with the green emerald leaf Mike had given her the day they’d promised each other forever.
“Is this a joke?” he asked. “This better not be a joke.”
“It’s not.” Just this morning she’d been to the doctor and confirmed what she’d already known.
Their family was growing.
He swallowed a breath, as if he hadn’t breathed in minutes, and the expression on his face was so genuinely happy that her eyes filled with tears.
He crossed the space between them in three strides, and lifted her into his arms again. This time his face nestled into her neck.
“How far along?” he asked.
“Six weeks.” It was still so new, she felt a little uncomfortable saying the words out loud. She could feel his smile against her neck.
“You sure you want to go through with the house now? We could wait a year, start again.”
“I’m sure,” she said. Things were going to get crazy, there was no doubt there, but she wasn’t afraid. She’d surrounded herself with good people, friends she could count on. If she needed help, they’d be there.
“All right,” he said. And then he started to laugh. “I love you, Hummingbird.”
She kissed him, softly, sweetly, feeling as if she was slowly being dragged under a wave. There was no fighting it. She let the current take her, sweep her away, knowing she would inevitably float back to the surface. Trusting that he would let her.
Loving every minute of it.
Acknowledgments
I’m so delighted to share this story with you. It’s a very special one to me for many reasons—because it gave me a chance to spend more time in Anna and Amy’s world, because it gave me more time with hot Mike, and because it allowed me to share something I’m passionate about: support and hope for survivors of domestic violence.
Thank you to everyone who made this happen, despite all odds. Joanna and Abby, my agents, who have advocated like rockstars and filled my days with previously unknown joy (aka, emails about Mike’s...ahem), and Danielle, who believed so much in the Body Works series. My first readers, whom I am so grateful for, and always hoping to impress: Deanna, Katie, and Courtney (my characters would all be in prison if not for your legal advice, Court!). Jenny, for this fabulous cover (ABS). My husband, who’s taught me so much about love, and my son, who will probably be super embarrassed when he finds out what mommy’s stories are actually all about.
Thank you for reading. Wherever you are, if you’re hurting like Amy or Val, please know you’re not alone. You deserve better. You can have more.
The National Domestic Violence Hotline:
1-800-799-7233
http://www.thehotline.org
About the Author
Sierra Kincade lives in the Midwest with her husband and son. When she’s not writing naughty books, she loves eating chocolate cupcakes, binge-watching cable TV series, and singing loudly in the car. She wholeheartedly believes that love stories are real, and you should never choose a partner who doesn’t make you laugh.
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