Page 145 of Theirs to Desire (Club M: Boxed Set)

EPILOGUE

KIERA

Ten months later…

T hey whisked Nolan into surgery as soon as he arrived.

It took seven hours, the longest seven hours of my life.

I sat next to Caleb, clutching his hands for warmth, unable to stop shivering.

At some point, I remember apologizing for going to the parking lot.

“This is all my fault,” I’d whispered. The tears had finally stopped falling, but my eyes were red and itchy. “I should have never left the club.”

“Diane James was a member in good standing,” he’d replied, pulling me onto his lap and wrapping both arms around me. “You had no way of knowing. This is not your fault.”

Bianca, who had ridden with Xavier to the hospital, had fetched me a cup of hot chocolate.

I’d wrapped my fingers around it, but it had brought me no comfort.

It wasn’t until the surgeon had stepped out into the hallway and told us that Nolan was going to be fine that I finally felt like I could breathe.

Nolan spent four weeks in hospital. His recovery was slow and painful, but three months after he was shot, he was back to normal. “Never again,” he’d promised me. “No more risks. I’m going to live a life so boring that it’ll be like watching paint dry. You’ll be sick of me in a month.”

Ten months later, I’m not sick of him, not even a little. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.

Miles Armstrong, the corrupt detective that had been the source of so much pain in my life, didn’t get away with his crimes.

There was a sting operation, and he was caught giving out the location of someone in witness protection.

The bribery trial made national news. Last month, he was sentenced to ten years in prison.

Less than a month after Nolan killed Martinez, Greg Dratch escaped from jail. We’d barely received word when Nolan and Caleb got a phone call from Anton Nekrasov. “Thank you for finding Gregory for me,” he’d said. “I have him now.”

“Damn it, Nekrasov,” Caleb had sworn. “I promised him he’d go to jail.”

“And he did. You kept your part of the agreement. My priorities are different.”

But it wasn’t all good news.

Bianca’s recovery wasn’t quite so easy. How do you find your way back from eight years of exploitation, especially when the damage started when she was only fifteen?

She tried. She really did. She didn’t want to work in Club M; the scenes of sex disturbed her.

She went to work at the grocery store, and for a couple of weeks, I thought that maybe things would work out.

Then her manager forced himself on her during a break, and he’d kissed her, sticking his tongue into her mouth.

Bianca’s been through a lot, but I think that was the thing that broke her. For a couple of months after that, she’d been too depressed to get out of bed. Finally, I’d given her Hunter Driesse’s card and insisted she talk to him. “He specializes in PTSD,” I told Bianca.

“We can’t afford it,” she’d replied.

“We can,” I said firmly. I don’t really like taking money from Caleb and Nolan, but for Bianca, I would have done it. But I hadn’t needed to; Hunter had generously offered to see her pro bono.

I don’t know what Hunter told her, but it helped. Within a month of her first appointment, she’d been online, researching flights to Russia. “You’re going to see Nekrasov?” Nolan had guessed.

“Yes.” She’d tilted her chin up. “You’re going to tell me he’s a dangerous criminal, and it’s a bad idea.”

“On the contrary, I think Anton’s exactly the person you need right now. And whatever Nekrasov’s other failings, he won’t take advantage of you. That’s a line he won’t cross.”

I hadn’t really been thrilled at the idea, but the prospect of joining Anton Nekrasov’s shadowy, clandestine organization was the only thing that Bianca had shown any interest in. Nolan had paid for her air ticket, and right after Christmas, my sister had flown to Moscow.

I miss her terribly. But she calls me every week, and she seems cheerful and happy. In the end, that’s the only thing that matters.

Farid comes up to me. “So,” he says, a wide smile on his face. “It’s your last day here. Are you excited?”

“I’m trying not to freak out,” I reply honestly. “But yeah. When I remember to breathe, I’m very excited.”

For many years, Club M has been my home and my shelter. But it’s time to step outside the nest, spread my wings, and learn to fly.

For the last ten months, Nolan and Caleb have been nagging me to accept financial help from them. “Did you grow up wanting to be a bartender?” Caleb had asked pointedly.

I’d rolled my eyes at his question. Rich people—they’re not like us. When I was growing up, if I dreamed, it was that we’d have enough to eat. If I got lucky, maybe I’d find a backpack in decent shape in the thrift store at the start of a new school year.

The future was never something I thought about. All I had energy for was surviving the present.

“I’m not with you for your money,” I’d replied to Caleb.

They had both looked exasperated. “Yes, Kiera,” Nolan had said with an exaggerated note of patience. “That’s obvious. Listen, you can work the bar if that’s what you want. But if you ever want to do something else, we’re here for you. We will support you completely.”

Their words had stuck in my mind. Things are different now. I have space to dream. To think about what I’d like to do if I’m not fighting for survival.

In January, the week after Bianca had flown to Russia, I’d gone online and bought an SAT study guide. For three months, I’d prepped, and then, in March, I’d taken the exam and scored in the 95th percentile. “What’d I say?” Dixie said smugly. “Of course, you were going to ace it.”

This fall, I’m going to college. I don’t know what I want to do yet.

I enjoy talking to people, and I like feeling like I’m helping them out.

There’s a tiny part of me that thinks that eventually, I want to become a therapist like Avery and Hunter.

The thought of spending more than ten years in school is a little daunting, but I don’t necessarily need to earn a PhD to work in the field.

Nolan and Caleb couldn’t have been more supportive. Not just about my college plans, but about everything.

I live with them now. It’s amazing. I thought I’d miss my space, but it’s really nice to wake up next to them.

It’s wonderful to get back home at the end of a long shift to a hot meal.

Sometimes, we’re all busy with work, each of us on their own laptops.

Sometimes, we eat dinner together, and relax on the couch with wine and Netflix.

Sometimes, we head to the city. Whatever we’re doing, it just feels right, because I’m with them.

There’s an influx of people at the bar, and for the next thirty minutes, I’m kept busy making cocktails. When I can breathe again, I look up, and my mouth falls open.

It’s Dixie, who only shows up to Club M when she’s worried about me. She’s dressed in a lacy black cocktail dress that clings to her bodice and flares at the waist, falling to her knees in soft folds. Four-inch high heels add to the look. She teeters over to the bar and sits down.

“Tell me everything,” I say, slapping a glass of white wine in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

She gives me a sheepish look. “It’s a complicated story. The simplest version is that I lost a bet.”

My eyes widen. “You’re going to play at the club? In public?”

“In private.”

I pinch myself. “With who?”

Before she can answer, Hunter Driesse and Eric Kane walk up to the bar. Hunter offers Dixie his hand. “Ready, Dix?”

Dixie blushes. “I’ll be along in a minute,” she murmurs. “As soon as I’m done with the wine.”

“Just the one, okay?” Eric says, putting a key card on the counter. “I don’t want you tipsy.”

A guy telling Dixie what to do. I wait for her to rip him a new one, but to my everlasting shock, she nods. I remember to close my mouth. Once they’re out of earshot, I turn back to my friend. “Are you okay?” I demand. “They’re not coercing you into this, are they?”

“No, of course not,” she says at once. “Don’t worry.

Xavier’s already given me the third degree.

” She takes a sip of her wine. “Can I tell you something?” She leans closer to me.

“I might even be looking forward to it.” She slides off the barstool, tucking the key card into her clutch. “See you later, Kiera.”

I barely have time to recover from my shock when Caleb and Nolan enter the club and walk over to me. “So,” Caleb says. “It’s your last day. Are you sad?”

“A little,” I admit. “What about you? Are you sad the cocktail games will come to an end?”

He grins. “None of our games are coming to an end, Kiera.”

Nolan winks at me. “When you’re done with your shift,” he says. “I thought we’d play here tonight.”

Anticipation pulses through me. We haven’t played at Club M for almost three months. SAT prep, college applications… I’ve just been really busy.

“What do you have planned?”

Nolan’s lips tilt up. “What’s your pleasure, Kiera? What would you like to experience tonight?”

What’s your pleasure? That had been the first question I’d ever asked Nolan.

“That’s an intriguing question to ask in a place like this,” I reply, repeating his answer of that day back to him. I look up at the two men that I love and trust more than anyone in the world. “Surprise me.”

Thank you for reading Theirs to Protect.