Page 157 of Obsession in Death

“What for?”

“Just this.”

Just holding her, just feeling her heart beat, smelling her hair. Just that.

His entire life was just that.

“All right now,” he murmured. “That’s all right now.”

“I was scared shitless. Usually you don’t have time to be scared—after you can think, holy shit, but not when it’s happening. But I had plenty of time in there. All my people, Roarke. I was so scared. And when I jumped, when I saw Reineke come out, fire, I thought of all those cops. And when I grabbed the switch, I thought of you. Just you.”

She laid her hands on his face a moment. “Just you. So let’s go get drunk.”

“The year’s nearly done, another ready to start. I can’t think of anything I want more than to be home with you.”

As revelers celebrated in Times Square, as a killer wept bitter, bitter tears in her cell, they drove home, to get perfectly drunk.