Page 19

EPILOGUE

The rhythmic beeping of monitors pulled me from the darkness, each electronic pulse drawing me closer to consciousness. White ceiling tiles swam into focus, and the antiseptic smell of hospital disinfectant filled my nostrils. My body felt weighted, limbs heavy against crisp sheets.

I turned my head and found Jack exactly where I knew he’d be—in the chair beside my bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his head bowed. His fingers were loosely entwined as if he’d been praying. Maybe he had been.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” I said, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar to my own ears.

Jack’s head snapped up, his eyes bloodshot from exhaustion but suddenly bright with relief. A smile broke across his face like sunrise, though it trembled at the edges.

“There she is,” he said softly, reaching for my hand. His warm fingers wrapped around mine, gentle yet desperate, as if he could anchor me to this world through touch alone.

“The baby?” I asked immediately, my free hand moving to my stomach.

“Fine,” Jack assured me, his voice catching. “The baby’s fine. You’ve got a hard head, and apparently the little one inherited it.”

A laugh escaped me, but it quickly transformed into a weak cough. Jack helped me take a sip of water from a cup on the bedside table, his hand steady on mine.

“Well, well, well,” I heard a familiar voice say from somewhere in the room.

It was only then that I noticed Lily sitting in a chair in the corner, her legs tucked beneath her, an open medical textbook balanced on her knees. She closed it with a soft thump, her face lighting up as she moved to the other side of my bed.

“I knew you were being weird,” she said, grinning triumphantly as she checked the monitors. “Morning sickness. Food aversions. Emotional outbursts.”

“I wasn’t having emotional outbursts,” I protested weakly.

“I saw you tear up as soon as ‘Son of a Preacher Man’ started to play,” Lily countered, her eyes dancing with amusement.

“It made me sad,” I said, smiling as much as my battered face would allow.

Lily’s expression softened as she reached for my wrist, taking my pulse even though the monitor was doing the same job. It was a gesture of connection more than medical necessity.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she promised, glancing between Jack and me. “Though I should warn you, I’m not sure how long it’ll stay that way. You haven’t exactly been subtle about it. Emmy Lu is bound to catch on before too long.”

“How long have I been out?” I asked, noticing the dimming light through the window.

“About ten hours,” Jack said. “They gave you something for the pain, and your body took what it needed.”

“Concussion?” I asked.

“Mild,” Lily confirmed. “CAT scan was clear. No internal bleeding, no skull fracture. You’ll have a headache for a few days, but nothing permanent.”

I nodded, wincing as the movement sent a dull throb through my temples. “And the case?”

Jack and Lily exchanged a look.

“They’ve both been charged,” Jack said, his jaw tightening. “Emmett’s staying loyal to Prather. Won’t say a word except to spout cult propaganda. The prosecutor says he’s got the emotional maturity of a teenager with the moral compass of a shark.”

“And Josef?” I asked.

“Older and wiser,” Jack said, a note of disgust in his voice. “He cut a deal before his lawyer even finished his coffee. He’s pinning everything on Emmett, claiming he was just there to supervise the apprentice, teach him the ropes. Says he never pulled the trigger.”

“That’s crap,” I said, anger flaring through the fog of medication. “The shots on Chloe were too precise. And the sniper shot that took out Max?—”

“We know,” Jack assured me. “Special forces records confirm Josef was a trained sniper. Too much of a coincidence. But the prosecutor is willing to play along to get information on New Dawn. Josef’s offering up everything—locations, bank accounts, names of other members.”

“He’s scared,” Lily observed. “And he should be. From what I’ve heard, this Prather guy doesn’t tolerate failure.”

She checked the IV in my arm, adjusting the flow slightly. “I should go update your chart and let Cole know you’re awake. He’s been calling every twenty minutes since they brought you in.” She squeezed my hand. “Don’t overdo it, okay?”

Lily slipped out, closing the door softly behind her. In the sudden quiet, Jack’s composure seemed to crumble. He brought my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against my knuckles.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “When we burst into that warehouse and I saw him with the gun to your head…” He trailed off, swallowing hard.

“But you didn’t,” I reminded him, squeezing his hand. “I’m right here.”

“The look in that kid’s eyes,” Jack continued, as if he needed to say it aloud to exorcise the memory. “He was going to pull the trigger. Even after we told him to freeze, I thought he was still going to do it.”

A shadow crossed his face, something dark and primal that I rarely saw in him.

“My finger was on the trigger, Jaye. I was ready to take the shot.” His eyes met mine, haunted. “It took more willpower not to pull it than I thought possible. If he’d even twitched in your direction…”

“But he didn’t,” I said softly, understanding the weight he carried. “And you didn’t.”

Jack nodded, but the shadow lingered. I reached up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips.

“You found me,” I said. “That’s all that matters.”

He turned his face into my palm, pressing a kiss there before looking back at me with sudden intensity.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, “About the house.”

“What about it?” I asked, momentarily confused by the change of subject.

“It needs a nursery,” Jack said, a new lightness entering his voice. “And maybe a fence around that part of the yard near the creek.”

I laughed, feeling some of the tension drain from my body.

“Oscar’s going to have a new human to boss around soon enough. He’ll love it.” Jack sobered slightly. “I can’t wait to build this life with you, Jaye. A real one, with 3 a.m. feedings and first steps and Christmas mornings.”

I thought of all we’d faced—murders and cults and personal demons—and all we’d survived. There would be more cases, more darkness to navigate. New Dawn was still out there, Paul Prather hiding on his island enclave. Dickie was battling his own demons in rehab. The world was still chaotic and dangerous and unpredictable.

But in this moment, with Jack’s hand in mine and our child growing safely inside me, I felt something I hadn’t expected to find in the aftermath of so much death.

Hope.

“We’re a good team,” I said, drawing him closer. “The best.”

Jack leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that tasted of coffee and relief and promises. Outside the window, the setting sun painted the room in gold, casting long shadows that would soon give way to night.

But for now, there was light. And for now, that was enough.