Page 35 of Twisted Little Games (New York City Mafia #3)

Tristan

W aking up in bed with Kirsten is just as surprising this morning as usual. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to seeing the angelic, golden-haired prosecutor sleeping next to me, but I’d give anything to have her here every morning for the rest of my life.

God, getting shot last night must’ve made me more of a pussy-whipped asshole.

I don’t even remember anything after leaving the hospital, other than Kirsten insisting we stop by the pharmacy.

Oh, right. The pain meds she made me take. They did help ease the throbbing ache. While I’m still a little sore, it’s nothing I can’t endure.

After I lie there and watch Kirsten sleep for a few minutes, I get up to search for my phone, wanting to take a picture of her before she wakes. Or disappears from my life.

The device is lying on the nightstand plugged in next to hers, and I have several missed calls from Creed and Andre as well as text messages.

I check those first. They ask how I am, and then Creed sent me a link to an online article.

Former Defendant Saves DA in Drive-By Shooting is the title.

“Oh shit,” I mutter, then glance at Kirsten’s innocent, sleeping form. Maybe Creed knows someone who can take the article down before she sees it and loses her damn mind. I start skimming through the words on the page, broken up by a ton of advertisements, before I see a quote from Kirsten herself.

How the hell did the reporter get that? Are they lying and making shit up?

Then I read it. And I’m so fucking glad she’s still asleep because I would hate for her to see the single tear slip down my cheek.

“ I didn’t plan on falling for a former defendant.

It just happened. And I’m so glad that it did because if not for Tristan Ferraro’s bravery, I wouldn’t be alive right now.

He risked his life not once but twice to save me, the first time before we officially met.

So, while I remain committed to seeking justice for all victims of crimes in Manhattan, I’m also able to see the world between my black and white one, where mistakes happen, and good people deserve second chances. ”

Further down, when asked about who tried to kill her, Kirsten says: “ I believe the officers who shot at me and injured the man I love were sent by someone trying to avoid justice. I would just like to warn that individual that the best outcome they can possibly hope for now is that they’re arrested and tried to the fullest extent of the law. ”

“Holy shit.” The woman is insane for putting all this out in the world, for telling everyone she’s in a relationship with me, and threatening a fate worse than prison for the asshole responsible.

And I love her so fucking much for it. I’m not sure if there’s enough room in my body to contain it all.

“Morning,” Kirsten says softly from the pillow next to mine. “How are you feeling? Any pain?”

“No, sweetheart. I’m not feeling an ounce of pain.”

“Then come back to bed,” she says with a smile as her eyes close again.

I don’t have to be told twice.

Kirsten wouldn’t have made such a huge decision if she wasn’t planning on sticking around for the long run with me.

But I already know that even forever isn’t long enough for the two of us.