Lucy pulls away with a chuckle but leaves her arms wrapped around my neck. “What did you have in mind?” she asks me again.
I gaze at her. Strong, little Lucy Vaughn. My life. My lover.
My wife.
I’ve always thought of her that way, too.
Why wouldn’t I want to make it official?
“Let’s talk about it tonight,” I say. “Over dinner?”
“Anything but Italian,” she says.
I laugh. “It’s a date.”
She slips free and gathers the files she needs. I follow her into the hallway, and we make our way down the quiet hall to the entrance of the auditorium. About a dozen students sit on the stage in leotards and tights, stretching and prepping their bodies as Kyle lectures about the importance of respecting their dance partners.
I take a seat in the front row.
Lucy hops up onto the stage and stands next to Kyle as he segues into his next topic.
Chemistry.
Who has it? How do you get it? Why is it important?
He and Lucy take their places in the center of the stage. A song begins over the speakers, a slow and calming melody. As they dance, the students stare with wide eyes and open mouths. I can see why.
I did the same the first time I saw her dance.
They sway along with the music, spinning in and out of each other’s embrace. It’s a forbidden lover’s duet, that much is obvious. They emote from their eyes; a deep, longing need that can never be satisfied. Every touch full of passion. Every step full of pain.
Kyle lifts her up, prompting a few gasps from the students as they twirl around.
I smile, thrilled that she’s come so far from the long nights she spent crying in my arms, praying for the pain to go away. Lucy feared the worst back then. She thought she’d never dance again. There were moments when I feared it, too.
“She’s got a long road ahead and it’s not the kind she’ll want to travel alone. I mean… if you weren’t up for it, why did you even bring her here at all?”
Elijah knew that it isn’t just time and medicine that heals the deepest wounds. It’s love and trust and the willingness to open yourself completely. She couldn’t survive without me, just like I didn’t stand a chance in this life without her.
He knew I loved her before I even admitted it to myself.
Miss you, brother.
The song ends and the students break into applause. Lucy and Kyle give an elegant bow to them as well as each other.
“Now, partner up!” Lucy says, standing tall. “You all have until the end of the month to perfect this dance. Those who don’t will be asked to leave the program.”
Their faces turn a ghostly white.
I grin.
And I thought killing people was hard work.
Fox
“Hey, Daddy. Wake up!”
The bar is vibrant with activity, mostly students from the local university blowing off steam. Darla and I sit across from each other at our usual table far away from the constant clack of billiard balls and the wailing of tipsy girls singing karaoke.
I look at her, noticing the judgmental side-eye over the rims of her glasses. “What?” I ask.
She takes a sip from her drink and sighs. “You’re doing that thing again.”
I run my thumb through the condensation on my glass. “Sorry. I’m just feeling distracted tonight.”
“Big day soon, huh?”
I nod. “Any minute now.”
“Yeah, I can tell. You look terrified.”
“I am terrified.”
“Why? You’ve been through worse.”
“I have?”
“Fox, I’ve seen you calm as a cucumber with a rifle pointed at the middle of your damn forehead.” She shrugs. “Having a baby ain’t worse than that.”
I laugh. “It’s not?”
“Literal cavemen kept the human race going for generations.” She brushes it off. “You got this.”
“Well, when you put it that way.”
“Once again, my token way with words saves the day.”
I raise my pint to her. “That it does.”
She straightens her face. “In all seriousness, how do you really feel about becoming a dad?”
I think about it. And I mean really think about it. Even with the nine-month long timer, there doesn’t feel like enough time to prepare for it. Today, I’m Fox Fitzpatrick. Friend. Husband. Former assassin.
Someday soon, I’ll add father to that list, too.
I think of my own father, a man who realized far too late that fatherhood wasn’t for him.
I think of Luka, a man who chose fatherhood above all else.
I think of Boxcar, a man who makes literally everything he does look easy, fatherhood included.
I think of the first time I felt my child kicking in Dani’s womb and I smile.
Darla scoffs. “And there it is.”
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“You’ve got that deer in headlights look to you,” she says. “Like you’re staring the unknown in the face, but you just can’t look away.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “That’s pretty much what it feels like.”
“Fox, I know you. I probably know you better than most people, your pretty wife excluded. So, you can trust me when I say that you are going to be a great dad.”
“You think so?”
“Hey. In my line of work, I’ve seen some shitty dads. Trust me. You don’t have it in you to be a shitty dad.”
I smile. “I hope that’s true.”
“I know that’s true.” Her phone vibrates on the table. She tilts it to read it and her eyes flash with satisfaction.
“New client?” I tease.
“It’s just Mike,” she says, smiling at my jab as she taps out a reply. “He’s flying back in tonight. I’m supposed to pick him up from the airport.”
“You two are really hitting it off, huh?”
She pauses to think, but not for long. “Yeah,” she answers. “I think we are.”
“Have you told him what you used to do yet?” I ask.
“As a matter of fact, I have.”
I blink in surprise. “Really?”
“Turns out, he and I have the same former employer.”
“He was an escort, too?”
“No, just a runner. Apparently, he used to see me at parties thrown by mutual friends, but I’d already quit by the time he got up the courage to talk to me. Fast forward four years and here we are. What are the odds, huh?”
I smile. “I’m happy for you, Darla. That’s great.”
“Thank you. It feels pretty great.” She takes a deep breath and grins. “Anyway, I should probably walk home and sober up. Same time next week?”
“Eh, depends,” I say.
“Oh, right.” She bobs her head. “You probably won’t have a chance to catch a drink with me with a newborn baby. Dani’s due any minute now…”
I nod, swallowing fear. “Right.”
Darla stands up. “Well, if you want to talk, you have my number, friend. And let me know if you need anything. I’m not exactly good with the child-rearing bits, but I’m great at shopping if you guys need groceries and whatnot.”
I exhale, happy for the help. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Well, I owe you my life, so…” She shrugs. “The least I can do, yadda yadda.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Darla.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” As she turns around, she waves. “Bye, Fox.”
“Bye.”
Darla leaves, bringing another one of our weekly therapy sessions to an end. I started seeing her a little while after Dani and I came back to Iowa for good. With everything that’s happened to me, I needed someone to talk to; someone who wouldn’t call the authorities the second they suspected my past.
Darla, the undergraduate therapist-in-training, was the obvious choice. She was going through her own post-traumatic stress at the time after wh
at happened on the farm and I’m more than a little experienced in getting through that.
It’s been a long journey for both of us, and there’s still plenty of healing to be done, but I’d say we’ve both adjusted well over the years.
Dani would agree.
I don’t wake up in the middle of the night looking for ghosts anymore.
I guess that’s progress.
* * *
I turn off onto a dirt road and the farmhouse soon comes into view. My headlights illuminate the old porch. I sneer at the chipped paint on the corner that I’ve been putting off fixing for weeks. I have a decent excuse, however…
And she’s sitting on the rocking chair right now, gliding back and forth in a pair of denim overalls with her hand resting on her large belly.
Dani.
Sammy lies on the porch beside her. As I park between the cabin and house, he raises his head in caution, but he rests right back down again as I step out of the car. We’re long past the days when he doesn’t trust me.
Dani does her best to bend down and pet his head, but even doing that is difficult at the moment.
I step toward the porch and she smiles.
“Hi,” she says, her blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail. “How’s Darla?”
“She’s good.” I climb the porch stairs, my brow furrowed. “What are you doing out here?”
“Oh, I’m just… waiting for you to get back.”
I nod. “Where’s Mrs. Clark?”
“She went out.”
“Out?”
“Out.”
“Since when does she go out?” I laugh.
“Well,” Dani clears her throat, “she said that since the day of birth is fast approaching, she thought it’d be nice if the two of us had a little time alone for a while.”
“Did she?”
“One last babymoon.”
“How thoughtful of her.”
“I thought so, too.”
“And it has nothing at all to do with her betting on tomorrow for the birth date and she’s hoping that we induce?”
Dani bites her cheek. “Sneaky, old broad.”
I laugh. “Well, I’m not one to look a gift mare in the mouth, so how’s about you and I head back to the cabin and kick start this babymoon?”
I flash a wink.
Dani hesitates.
“I don’t think now would be a good time,” she says.
“Why not?”
“Because I think I’m in labor.”
I flinch. “What?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Well, after Mrs. Clark left, I was working on my book and I went to the kitchen for a snack and there was a pain.”
“A pain?”
“Yeah, I figured it was just heartburn or something, but then about thirty minutes later, there was another one. So, I started timing it and I felt another one almost exactly thirty minutes after that, so… yeah. I think I’m in labor.”
I kneel beside the chair. “Why didn’t you call me?”
She waves a hand. “I didn’t want to interrupt you guys. And labor could last hours, you know? No reason to rush to the hospital yet.”
“How long ago was the last one?” I ask.
“Uh…” She checks her watch. “Twenty-three minutes. If I have another one soon, then I’d definitely say I’m in labor. Wanna wait with me?”
I breathe a laugh. “You are very calm.”
She shrugs. “Yeah.”
“How? Why?”
“Well, I thought about panicking. I was all alone out here. Then, I thought What would Fox do? instead.”
“Panic,” I answer.
“Oh.” She blinks.
I lay my hand over hers on her belly. She puts her other hand over mine and smiles, her eyes showing more bravery than I feel right now.
“Don’t worry,” she says to me. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”
Him.
My boy.
“He was kicking like crazy before,” she says. “I think he would like to come out now.”
I chuckle. “Mrs. Clark will be pleased.”
“And rich, too.”
We laugh. I lean in and kiss her on the mouth.
She tilts away. “Ow.”
I hold my breath. “Ow?”
“Yep.” She shifts her hand on her stomach. “Ow.”
“Less than thirty minutes now?”
She nods with a grimace. “And… slightly more painful.”
I stand up quickly and Sammy does the same. “I’ll get the bag—”
“Fox.”
She grabs my hand, stopping me.
“Yeah?” I ask.
Dani smiles, but a little of that confidence shifts from her eyes.
I kneel back down. “Dani, what is it?”
“I shouldn’t panic, right?” she asks. “I mean, we’re prepared. We…” She swallows hard. “We can do this. Right?”
“Of course, we can do this,” I say. “You can do this.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been surer about anything.” I kiss the back of her hand, holding it close. “And you let me do the panicking, all right? You keep being a badass.”
She chuckles. “All right.”
I lean in and kiss her again.
Fox Fitzpatrick. Friend. Husband.
Father.
Nothing else matters.
Dani
Nothing else matters.
Fox and I used to say that to each other back when it was just the two of us. We’d be lying in bed naked with the warm summer air blowing in through the open windows of our cabin. It was just me and him, limbs and bodies entwined, and we were right. Nothing else mattered.
But then, there were three.
And you know what? We’re still right.
I look into the tiny face of our son and nothing else matters. He sleeps soundly in my arms, only a few hours old, and I know that war itself could strike outside the window of this hospital and it wouldn’t mean a goddamn thing.
Nothing else matters but you, little baby.
Noah Fitzpatrick.
I pull him closer, careful not to wake him. I lay a kiss on his tiny forehead. As my nose grazes his head, I take a deep breath of him. So clean and peaceful. A wonderful and innocent blank slate, but I can somehow already see half of me and half of Fox inside his little eyes. I hope that he keeps the better, simpler parts of us.
You know, the parts that didn’t have to check me in under a fake identity because I was pronounced dead five years ago.
Fingers crossed.
The door to my room slowly opens. Fox steps inside, looking more tired than I’ve ever seen him before. I wonder if I look even worse, but I can’t tell based on the happy expression on his face alone.
“Hey,” he whispers after closing the door.
“Hi,” I say. “Everything okay?”
He sits on the edge of the bed beside me and nods. “Where’s Mrs. Clark?” he asks.
“I sent her home to get some sleep. She said she’d be back in the morning,” I say, glancing at the phone in his hand. “You make the calls?”
“Yeah. Caleb’s on her way,” he says.
“She doesn’t have to come all the way out here.”
“That’s what I said, but…” He shrugs, but he’s obviously happy she’s coming. “She’s spreading the news worldwide, so my texts are blowing up if you want to read those.”
“Definitely,” I say, stifling a yawn.
“My mom is at a conference in Vancouver, but she said she’ll get here as soon as she can.”
I silently prepare myself for the next answer. “And my dad?” I ask.
“I called him,” he says, pausing, “and he’s getting the next flight out.”
“Really?”
He smirks. “Yeah, he actually answered the phone with ‘Hey, Fox’ this time instead of ‘What do you want?’”
“Wo
w,” I say. “You think he’s finally forgiven you for the whole deflowering me thing?”
“Doubtful, but… we’re getting there. Maybe.”
I chuckle softly. “I won’t hold my breath. At least he’s coming.”
Fox nods, his eyes falling to our boy. “How could he resist this?” he asks. “Need a break?”
“Yeah,” I say, shifting my arms. “Feeling very tired all of a sudden.”
Fox slides his hands beneath Noah and effortlessly takes hold of him. “Well, you get all the rest you need,” he says. “We’ll be okay.”
I lay my head down on the thick pillow as Fox settles into place beside me. He cradles the baby in his thick arms with a warm smile on his face. His eyes constantly move, memorizing every little detail of his baby boy.
“Hey, Noah,” he whispers. “It’s me again…”
I smile, my eyelids growing heavy as I stare at them.
In the span of a moment, I remember everything we’ve been through. All the pain and drama. All the darkness and bloodshed. It all seems like a lifetime ago now, as if I’m experiencing someone else’s ancient dream. Fox and Snake Eyes. Roxie Roberts and her notorious scar. Our friends and loved ones and those we lost along the way.
It all led us to this.
“Fox,” I whisper on the edge of the dream.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Fox leans over and kisses me. “I love you,” he says. “Go to sleep. We’ll be here.”
I close my eyes as it all fades to black.
* * *
Thank you for reading ENDLESS LOVE and finishing this epic saga with me!
He was my friend. My lover.
My ultimate undoing.
You might remember that Dante was a fighter for the Midwest Alphas. Learn more about them in my book UNTOUCHED!
Turn the page to read the first chapter!
What’s Milo’s story? Click here to read HOT SAUCE.
How about Trix and the notorious Argento crime family? Read all about them in PRETTY DIRTY TRICK.
The Botsford Plaza is home to a family of gorgeous heartthrobs! Learn their stories in JUST A TOUCH.
To see more connections between Tabatha Drake and Tabatha Kiss books, visit TabathaDrake.com/CharacterMap
Endless Love Page 19