Page 142 of Guarded Knight

Lara needs more from me than revenge.

I’ve never been so grateful for GhostEye. Once Ava and Enzo got sniffing on the Trent trail and Rio told them more about Kevin and Belinda, I’ve had nonstop updates in the family group chat. The nerds in Tahiti weren’t completely able to trace the money yet, they told me that takes time, but they did find evidence of both Belinda and Kevin operating under multiple identities with criminal intent.

Everyone is going down. At least there’s that. Trent, Kevin, and Belinda will all be held accountable for their crimes. And all of them will come to justice because of her…

Lara shifts slightly, her foot brushing against the blanket, and I hold my breath like the sound might wake her.

It sparks reminders of the last time she was in a hospital bed. Not when we met her new doctor… the first time I kissed her. When the only thing in the world we had to fight was time.

She’s four years older than anyone ever thought she’d be. I celebrated every one of her birthdays. Some in person. Some in a quiet moment on my own, lighting a candle if I had one, or simply holding up my cell phone flashlight to a night sky. Sometimes, I got down on one knee to thank God.

I never once let Him think I wasn’t grateful for the years she’s been given, even if she didn’t spend them with me.

I take her fingers gently in mine with no intention of waking her, but there’s nowhere else to put my love. Her fingers curl around mine, and her lashes flutter open.

Her eyes are unfocused at first, blinking against the light, until they find me. “You’re still here?”

“It was this or watch theTrollsmovie dubbed in Spanish with Dad and Theo.”

“Kat’s son speaks Spanish?” She pushes herself up to sitting.

“He will.”

Lara shifts onto one hip and sucks her teeth when she lands on the bruise. “Damn, that’s going to be cute in a few days. Good thing purple is my favorite color.” She combs her fingers through her hair. “Dare I ask for a mirror?”

I smirk. Her mascara has smudged and left flakes on her cheeks, not to mention other signs of someone who’s been through it. But she’s still shining.

I’m staring and in awe of everything she is, not caring one bit about her being anything but mine. There’s still hesitation in my gut about how we’ll make it happen, but I’m determined.

She lifts an eyebrow. “So, how do I look?”

I let the truth rip straight out of me. “Like I’ve been drowning for years and I finally came up for air.”

Instantly, a glow tugs at her cheeks, but she tries hard to swallow down the smile. “I think you should get checked out, too.”

“Why?” I sit on the edge of the bed, closer, where I belong. “Because I think you’re hot even when you have panda eyes?”

She slaps my arm, and it warms me to see her coming back to life. Back to herself.

She leaves her hand on my arm and strokes her fingers gently along it. Her touch tingles and soothes at the same time.

“I already know you have a thing for the chewed-up-and-spit-out look.”

“My type to a T.”

“Yeah, like how I looked when you first kissed me?” She smirks.

I remember, and my heart beats like it’s been aching to reminisce. She was the kiss that made me. Broke me. “I don’t remember you looking anything but a teenage dream, Firefly.”

She strokes my arm, gazing down at it, softening. “I never really got a chance to tell you how low I was that day. I felt sick, obviously, but I also felt… ugly. Everyone else who visited just reassured me that my vitals were looking better and lung this and CF that, and then you came. You looked at me and somehow knew what I really needed wasn’t medical.”

I smooth a strand of hair off her forehead. Her skin is warmer now, her eyes clearer.

She offers a gentle smile. “Do you remember what you said?”

Hell, I remember everything about that day.

“I said if this is you at your worst,” I murmur, “I better kiss you now, before some other jackass figures out how lucky he’d be to catch you on a bad day.” I half smile.