I’m going to get through this.
Epilogue
Ren
Sixteen months later
“Goddamn it, Bear!” Holden yells with exasperation.
My lips twitch as I leave the bathroom and make my way towards the kitchen. This is a morning ritual that I find extremely entertaining. Holden’s the one who cooks since I tend to burn everything I touch. Because he’s a man, he likes to make a good, filling breakfast. Most of the time, there’s always a side of bacon, and Bear tends to snitch when Holden’s not looking.
As I enter the kitchen, I find that sure enough, Bear is chomping down on bacon while Holden glares at him. We’d bought this house almost a year ago, and Bear had come along three months later. He’s huge for an Australian German Shephard, and he’s taken over the house since day one.
Bear catches sight of me, and he lunges forward, tail wagging. His front paws hit my shoulders as he stands on his back legs, giving me sloppy kisses as I wrap my arms around his furry body and laugh. He’s the perfect mix for me. He’s begun training classes to protect and guard, and he’s also a goofy rascal.
When he’s finished greeting me, he drops back down to four legs and wanders over to his water dish, noisily drinking.
I catch sight of Holden near the stove, arms folded as he gives me a look. “What? Am I not supposed to greet him in the morning?” I ask innocently.
“He’s never going to learn to leave the damned bacon on the counter if you reward him with hugs,” he says with dryly.
“So punish him before he sees me,” I tease.
Holden mutters something under his breath before turning back to the stove where he’s cooking scrambled eggs.
I wouldn’t change our typical morning argument for anything, and I smile as I move to the coffeemaker. There’s already a mug waiting for me to fill. Once I have my coffee, and I’ve added my favorite creamer, I walk over and hop up on the counter so I can watch Holden.
He’s dressed for work in jeans and a well-fitted tee. His gun holster is on, and it always turns me on to see him armed. Guns are a must in this household, because number one, Holden has one for his job, and second, I keep one for safety measures. I’m never letting anyone hurt me again, and if anyone dares to break into this house, they’ll be staring down the barrel of a gun—probably two of them.
I take a sip of my coffee and try to calm my nerves.
Holden glances at me as he moves the pan of eggs off the burner. “Nervous?”
I nod.
He steps towards me, and I part my legs so that he can stand between them as he leans in close, resting his warm hands on my thighs. A smile tilts his lips. “The professors will never know what hit them,” he says.
“Ha ha.”
He turns serious. “You’ll do great.”
“I hope so.”
Today’s my first day of classes at the university. I’m majoring in psychology, and it was an easy decision. As I’d begun to heal from everything that had happened, I’d became increasingly curious as to why my father was the way he was. What makes people tick? What prevents most us from becoming killers? There are so many questions, and it feels natural to study psychology. I’m not sure I’ll get my answers, but I want to spend the rest of my life helping the innocents that have encountered people like my father. I want to make a difference.
My butt vibrates, and I shift and dig out my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. I glance at the text and see that it’s Jill wishing me luck. We’re not best friends, but we chat occasionally when we need to connect with each other. We’ll always have a bond between us, and I’m okay with that. Thankfully, she’s found her way, and Seth and she are now married.
“Jill?” Holden questions.
“She wishes me luck,” I tell him, repocketing the phone.
“You don’t need luck,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss me.
I slip my arms around his neck, pressing my breasts against his chest as his tongue strokes mine. Bear barks twice, warning Holden that he’s not happy that he’s all up in my personal space.
I can’t help but giggle, and we break the kiss as Holden turns and glares at Bear. Somehow, in the past few months, Bear’s become quite protective of me. It’s something we’re going to have to break him of when it comes to Holden.
Bear looks back at Holden steadily as if saying, Too bad buddy. She’s mine, too.
Holden shakes his head and turns back to me. “Text me between classes?”
“I will.” I pick up my coffee and take a drink.
Holden, satisfied that he won’t have to wait until this evening to hear about my day, moves back to the stove and begins dividing the eggs onto two plates.
A few minutes later, we’re sitting at the kitchen table. “This is great, thank you,” I tell him as I pick up my fork.
“Are you sure you’re okay with Brinley staying overnight this weekend?” he asks, referring to his sister’s daughter. Ellie and Will are going out of town for the weekend for some much-needed alone time.
“I’m sure we can handle it.”
His eyebrows lift. “She’s only one.”
“It’ll be great practice.”
“If you say so,” he muses.
I peer at him over the rim of my coffee mug. “Once we have one of our own, we’re stuck with what we get. Better to practice now,” I say before taking a sip.
“True,” he concedes.
We’d already agreed that I wanted to settle into classes at the university before we become engaged or get married. There’s been a lot that we’ve had to overcome—by us, I mean mostly me—so the idea of being engaged or planning a wedding was just too much.
As I pick up my coffee, my hand trembles as I catch sight of my disfigured nails on my right hand. I’m self-conscious of them, and Holden has been telling me over and over that they’re battle scars, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of them.
“You’re going to be fine.”
My eyes lift to Holden’s, and the conviction in his gaze eases the tension that had momentarily formed. “What if…I have an attack?” I ask quietly.
“You haven’t had one in months,” he reminds.
“But I’ve been so stressed lately with classes beginning.”
He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “It’s a good kind of stress, though, and I think you’ll be fine. If not, excuse yourself and go to the nearest bathroom. Call me if you have to.”
I nod and pick up my fork, scooping up eggs and chewing. I’d changed my last name to my middle name, so now I’m known as Renee Monroe, and someday, I’ll be Ren Brooks. As much as I want that, I’m in no rush. Holden’s not going anywhere, he’s proved that over and over.
“I have to go,” Holden says lightly, interrupting my thoughts.
I nod and rise to my feet to say goodbye to him. We share a kiss and a long hug before he leaves for the day.
When I glance at the clock, I realize I’d better get going, too. After taking care of the morning dishes, I lead Bear out to the backyard. It’s ironic, because Holden had told me when we’d first met that he wasn’t a white-picket fence kind of guy, and here we are, with a six-foot-tall privacy fence separating our yard from the other neighbors.
I gaze at the large trees in the far back, their leaves gently dancing in the breeze as the morning sun shines brightly. It’s the perfect yard, and we’d bought a big grill for the patio, an outdoor table set with an umbrella, and we even have a hammock. And someday, we’ll have kids running around getting into mischief—right alongside Bear.
“Come on you, beast,” I say affectionately to him as I lead him over to his chain. My days of freaking out over the sound are long over. We don’t want to restrict Bear during the day, but he keeps digging beneath the fence, and we’re worried he might escape and run off. So for now, he has his own space in the corner of the yard with a large doghouse, food and water, toys, and a long chain that allows him to explore.
I squat down and r
ub his ears while his tongue hangs out as he gives me a doggy grin. “Stop digging and acting like a toddler, and maybe we can trust you inside during the day,” I admonish.
His tail wags.
I laugh and lean forward, kissing the fur between his eyes. “I love you, you big dolt.”
Once I’m certain he’ll be comfortable for the day, I go back inside and secure the back door. Then, I grab the bag I’d left in the kitchen, along with my laptop case, and make my way down the hall to the door that leads to the garage. I open the door and pause to reset the house alarm. When I’m certain the house will be secure, I firmly close the door and make my way down the two steps that lead into the garage.
My car is waiting, and I climb in and buckle up. After the garage door slides up, I start the engine and back out before letting the car idle at the end of the driveway. I can’t leave until I’m certain the door is closed and everything is locked, or else it triggers a sense of vulnerability and panic. I still have plenty of issues, but I’ve come a long way with the help from my therapist.
While I wait, my eyes wander over the two-story home that we’d bought. It’s blue with white shutters and trim, and I admire the rose bushes I’d planted along the front of the house. I’m finding that gardening is something I enjoy. There’s a lot of things that I’ve found I’ve got a knack for, and Holden is always urging me to explore anything that piques my interest. Last weekend, we’d gone kayaking and camping. Next weekend, we’re babysitting a one-year-old.
A grin curves my lips.
This, this is my life and exactly where I want to be. It doesn’t have to be normal, but it needs to bring me comfort. Life with Holden brings me just that.
I glance at my right hand on the steering wheel and study my disfigured nails. Although I am sensitive over how they look, they’re a part of who I am now. I’ve lived through a nightmare, and everything that I’ve gone through has led me to Holden Brooks. Sometimes, the good does outweigh the bad, and I’m living proof that evil can be conquered.
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