Page 29

Thatcher

Pain isn’t the worst thing about being in the hospital.

It’s the stillness.

The way time slows to a crawl, pressing down like a weight on my chest.

I’ve spent years in high-risk situations, thriving on adrenaline and chaos.

But lying here, hooked up to machines, staring at the ceiling, I feel powerless.

It probably goes without saying that I hate hospitals.

Always have.

And with my line of work, it’s hard to say how many times I’ve woken up to the pale blue gowns, the reek of alcohol, the dull ache of bruised ribs and broken bones.

But this time…

this time is different.

The usual loneliness I’ve come to expect?

It isn’t there.

Because I’m not alone.

There’s no emptiness, no abyss.

Instead, it’s as if every incision, every cut, every bloodied patch of skin is filled with the bright light of a certain food reviewer and secret investigative reporter.

She fills me with hope like morphine in a fevered blood stream, coursing through my body and dulling the pain.

And this time, there’s no monster lurking at the gates, no battles to fight.

Drakon is dead.

And his Enforcer was arrested and is likely going away for a long, long time.

Admiral Brady will be offered a plea deal in exchange for his testimony and he’ll be dishonorably discharged.

And my wife’s death has finally been avenged.

For once, it’s not a trick of the light.

Duke is safe.

Even Biscuit is safe and healthy with the exception of a fractured rib.

And Allie…

Allie is alive and safe.

And mine .

What right do I have to be that possessive?

But as the monitors beep a reassuring rhythm and the anesthesia wears off, I realize that maybe I have a future, a real one with a family, if I want it badly enough.

The battle wasn’t for naught.

And now?

I want to hold on to Allie with that same tenacity.

She fills the darkness with a riot of color.

I’m beginning to realize the Allie-sized place she fills isn’t one that ever had my late wife’s name etched on it.

This is something new, completely different.

Unexpected and exciting.

I wish I had the chance to talk to Jenna one last time.

To tell her how afraid I was to let go of her, how scared I was of making room in my heart for someone else.

But if this hospital bed has taught me anything, it’s that you don’t waste a chance like this.

Not with someone like Allie Larsen.

Six months ago, hell, even one week ago, I would have chalked my silence up to self-preservation.

Tamping down emotions with a heavy boot and not letting them escape.

But that tactic clearly doesn’t work.

I thought I was protecting myself from getting hurt.

Instead, it brought me more pain.

With Jenna, I thought letting go meant forgetting.

That if I gave myself permission to move on, it was the same as giving myself permission to leave her memory behind.

Only now am I beginning to see it isn’t.

That there’s room in this old ticker for more than just revenge and guilt.

The second Allie burst into my life with those big doe eyes of hers, she chipped away at the ice I worked so damn hard to form.

My armor.

My shield.

My safeguard.

Every wall I built to stop me from feeling was slowly dismantled by a tiny brunette with a God-complex about rescuing men in distress.

And now?

Those walls are officially down.

There’s nothing to hide behind.

All the barricades, all the cover, the cold exterior—melted.

Completely.

And surprisingly, it doesn’t feel like frostbite or heartburn.

I’m ready for whatever chaos comes my way next.

The nurse should be here soon, and when she is?

She better have discharge papers for me because I can’t sit around waiting another second.

Not now that I’ve had this clarity.

Not now that I know it’s Allie I want.

I have to see her.

I need to see her.

I might not have had a plan before, but I sure as hell do now.

The next mission is one I have no intention of botching.

It’s a success story waiting to happen.

The door creaks open, pulling me from my thoughts.

At first, I think it’s a nurse, but then I hear the small, hesitant footsteps.

My breath catches in my throat before I even turn my head.

“Duke?”

Duke’s cautious face appears, a miniature replica of my own expression—unsure, hesitant, and a little scared.

He has one hand on the doorknob, the other cradling a blanket and dragging it behind him like he does when he comes into my bedroom in the middle of the night after a nightmare.

His wide eyes dart over my bandaged arms and bruised face, his lower lip trembling, and my damn heart clenches.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, forcing a smile.

“C’mere.”

I see the thoughts flitting through his head, like clouds across a summer sky.

He’s probably trying to figure out how the hell his daddy ended up in such bad shape.

“Come on in,” I coax, my voice softer than I thought I was capable of.

“It’s okay, buddy.”

Griffin comes into view and gives Duke a little nudge.

“Go on,” he encourages with a wink.

“He doesn’t bite. He’s too old to have any teeth left.”

Duke steps in hesitantly, eyeing the machines with all the seriousness of a young recruit.

Then, he’s suddenly in motion, running across the room with his arms open wide.

The only casualties in this war are the donuts and bagels Griffin drops onto the counter as Duke barrels across the room and straight into my chest.

My ribs scream out in protest, but I wrap my arms around him all the same, squeezing him close.

His small fingers ghost over the bruises on my arm before he finally whispers, “Does it hurt?”

I shake my head, brushing his wild curls back from his forehead.

“Nah. Looks worse than it is.”

He scans my face, trying to make sense of it all, not quite believing me yet.

But after a second, the crease of his brow lessens and his bottom lip goes back to a normal shape.

He climbs up onto the bed beside me, resting his curly head on my chest, careful of my injuries.

His lips press together in a serious expression that’s far too old for a five-year-old.

“Did the dragon attack you again?”

I blink, caught off guard.

“What?”

“The dragon.” He glances over his shoulder like he’s checking to make sure no one else is listening.

“I heard you talking about it with Uncle Griff and Uncle Hunter a couple years ago. How the dragon attacked Mommy.”

Realization crashes over me, leaving me breathless.

All the times he’s made me play knights with him, the way he charges around the house with his toy sword, slaying invisible beasts.

His obsession with protecting the castle.

With fighting dragons.

Damn.

He’s been listening.

He’s been trying to understand in the only way his little mind can process.

A lump rises in my throat, but I swallow it down.

I won’t let him see me shaken.

For years, I thought he didn’t know the name Drakon.

My stomach tightens with the thought of how much this kid absorbs without me knowing.

We tried to protect him, but how could he not have pieced it all together?

Of course he knew.

He’s smarter than I give him credit for.

I’m not the only Bryant with a tactical brain.

He’s been preparing for this battle for years, but only now am I beginning to see it.

“The dragon tried,” I reply.

“But we got him.”

He lifts his head, eyes wide and excited now.

“We did?” He pauses, as if afraid to hope.

“Does that mean…” I nod, feeling a strange warmth spread through me at his innocent joy.

“The dragon’s been slain,” I tell him firmly.

“And the other bad guys? They’re locked in a tower for a long, long time.”

Duke studies me for a long moment, then a long breath escapes him and he grins.

There’s nothing left to worry about.

He doesn’t have to hide under blankets or sneak into my room at night to feel safe.

He grins and relaxes his head once more to my chest, whispering, “I told Uncle Hunter and Uncle Griff that you were the best dragon slayer ever.”

I close my eyes for a second, breathing him in.

Warmth.

Safety.

A reminder of what truly matters.

“I dunno about the best,” I tease back.

“You seem pretty good yourself. I bet you’re going to slay more than me one day.”

He gives an earnest nod and the seriousness in his voice would be comical if he wasn’t my kid.

“That’s what I want to be when I grow up.” When he speaks again, his voice is softer.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“I like Allie.”

I smile despite the ache in my ribs.

“Yeah? Me too.”

He lifts his head, his green eyes filled with a curious kind of hope.

“Is she your princess?”

I chuckle, wincing as pain lances through my ribs.

“Not yet. But I was thinking about asking her to be.”

His eyes widen.

“Really?”

“Yeah. But only if you’re okay with it.”

Duke bounces on the bed, suddenly all energy again.

“I want her to be your princess! And mine too!”

I grin, ruffling his hair.

“So, you wouldn’t mind if she became part of our family eventually?”

His face turns serious again, and he thinks for a long moment before nodding.

“She takes care of you. And she makes you laugh.”

I nod, my chest tightening.

He sees everything.

“Yeah, buddy. She does.”

He leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“You should ask her soon. Before another prince comes and sweeps her off her feet.”

I laugh, pulling him into my good arm.

“I think you’re right. ”

Griffin clears his throat and crosses the room, his mouth quirked up at the corners with that same smug grin he wears to every damn occasion.

Weddings, funerals, attempted homicides, you name it.

“Hate to break up the tender moment,” he says, pretending to dust off his sleeve.

“But you should probably know something.” I raise a brow, and he gives me a shrug in return.

“We’ve been outed.”

“The matchmaking business?” I ask, trying to hide my surprise.

“Allie’s article?”

He shakes his head.

“Every other news outlet other than the Sun has covered the takedown of Drakon and how our matchmaking company played a part. But Allie’s article isn’t among them.”

It shouldn’t be a surprise that this story is front-page news.

Actually, I had never really considered the option that the matchmaking business would continue after finding Drakon.

But it’s hard to imagine doing anything else now.

“The bright side,” Griffin continues, “is that we’ve got a shit-ton of new clients. By the time I got in this morning, the phone was ringing off the hook. Emails. You name it. We might actually need to hire someone else. People like the fact that we run our matchmaking like a mission. They actually fucking like us.” His voice carries the thrill of a kid on Christmas morning, and I realize how much he’s been waiting for this.

Not for the business to take off, but to find something he can believe in.

Like me.

Like Hunter.

Like the whole damn world.

“That’s great, Griff,” I say, my own excitement catching up with me.

“You were right. As always.” We couldn’t stay underground forever.

I was fooling myself to think we could.

Just like I was fooling myself to think I could keep everyone at a distance, that I could keep Allie out of my life.

Out of Duke’s life.

It’s a relief to stop pretending.

To stop hiding.

We’re out in the open, and it doesn’t seem to matter.

We’re free.

“Any angry ex-husbands show up with AKs yet?”

“None that Hunter hasn’t taken care of.” He grins, then glances meaningfully at Duke who’s still curled up on my chest, playing a game on my phone.

My free hand strokes the mop of curls on Duke’s head.

“I think you’re going to have to take point on these new clients, Griff.”

“Seriously?”

I nod.

“I’ve been compromised. My face is all over the news. There’s no way I can help people on their dates and maintain an under-the-radar cover. Besides,” I add.

“I have a feeling my social calendar is about to get a little fuller.”

“Dad’s going to have a girlfriend!” Duke announces from his perch on my chest.

He launches to his feet, all thoughts of dragons and towers and missions temporarily forgotten.

I catch him as he wobbles, and he throws his arms around my neck, an irrepressible ball of excitement and energy.

It’s contagious, this enthusiasm of his.

Maybe he gets it from me.

Or maybe I get it from him.

Either way, it’s not something I’ve had for a while.

Not until now.

“Is that so?” Griff grins, and there’s a warmth to it I’ve missed.

I catch Griffin’s amused expression and roll my eyes.

“Slow down, Duke. One thing at a time,” I say, but my son’s enthusiasm is relentless.

His head bobs up and down like a caffeinated bobblehead.

“Allie’s here at the hospital! You can ask her now!” The force of his excitement launches him off the bed, and he impatiently squeezes my hand.

“Daddy, come on!”

I chuckle and look back at Griffin.

He’s watching the whole scene like it’s the best entertainment he’s had in weeks.

Knowing him, it probably is.

The guy doesn’t miss a thing, even when it seems like he’s not paying attention.

“We ran into Allie in the hallway when we were coming in.”

My heart climbs into my throat.

“How is she?”

“She’s great,” Griffin says.

“A few scrapes and bruises, but she is about to be discharged.

I exhale in relief. Thank God. We’d been texting, of course. The nurse even allowed her to visit me here in my room briefly. But it’s still torture not being able to hold her, to see her every day, to tell her exactly how I feel.

“So?

” Duke presses.

“Are we going to go ask her now?” He blinks up at me with wide, hopeful eyes.

For the first time in years, I feel it—the certainty that I’m ready.

That I’m finally, truly, moving forward.

That the ghosts of the past don’t hold me anymore.

Because the only thing that matters is right here in my arms.

And the woman who made me believe in something again is waiting just beyond that door.

I smile down at Duke.

“I have a better idea…a mission, if you’re willing to accept it.”