Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I realize now that I wouldn’t want anyone who wasn’t wearin’ a Sons of Templar cut to be lookin’ out for her,” he murmured. “Granted, I wanted it to happen a little later in her life and earlier in yours.” He grinned. “But who the fuck am I to talk about what’s appropriate. What’s normal. You make her happy, keep her safe, I don’t give a fuck about the rest.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You break her heart, I’ll carve out yours and feed it to you.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied.
We both looked at her. “I was the easy one, you know,” he gestured to the tiny body lying in the bed.
“She’s gonna be the challenge, with all of her progressive ideas on marriage and patriarchy.”
I wanted to smile. But it was impossible when my woman was lying in a hospital bed with stitches in her shoulder and a bruise next to the place my daughter was growing.
“Oh, I know,” I said.
“You’re up for the challenge, then?”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” I looked at him once more. “You gonna walk her down the aisle?”
“You get her there, I’ll walk her down the aisle,” he promised.
And there it was, one hurdle crossed. I could feel it, the chasm between us being crossed.
But Swiss was right … he was not going to be the difficult one. The small, pregnant woman in the hospital bed would be it. The one who had just fought off a serial killer then walked calmly to the van when she found out she had a knife protruding from her shoulder.
Yes, she was a miracle.
And she’d be my wife.
Even if it took forever to convince her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
VIOLET
Elden was sitting in the chair next to my bed when I woke up. That didn’t surprise me. It wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d been in a coma for three months. He would’ve been at my side the entire time.
He jerked the second my eyes opened. The second. He was watching me with a concentrated intensity that likely would’ve woken me up if he had those kinds of powers. I hadn’t ruled out that possibility.
“Hi,” I rasped.
Elden rushed to grab the pitcher of water beside my bed, pouring it into a glass—glass, not a plastic cup which meant my mother or Freya had been here—and gave it to me.
I took it thankfully, my throat burning and dry.
Elden watched me, his eyes full of cerulean fire.
I handed him back the glass and took stock of my body. My shoulder burned dully, my entire body felt tight, tense, achy, as if I’d done a really intense workout the day before. It made sense, my fight or flight response had been triggered, and I’d done both. My hand went to my stomach, comforted to know that the doctors had found a steady heartbeat.
On cue, our little girl wiggled beneath my palm.
“I’m fine,” I told Elden, though I knew that wouldn’t make much of a difference to him right now.
He didn’t respond, just continued with the intense stare thing.
I sighed, pushing myself up, or trying to. Elden was at my side in a moment, lifting me up to a sitting position with care.
His lips landed on my head, and he stayed there for a moment, breathing me in before he sat back in the chair that was as close to my bed as humanly possible.
“We need to get married,” he said.
I rubbed my eyes, staring at him and waiting for the punchline. None came. He was Elden, serious, intense, somber.
I didn’t reply because what did someone say to their baby daddy who informed them they were getting married—informed, didn’t ask—after they woke up in a hospital bed after having an altercation with a serial killer?
“You’re gonna argue with me on that,” he murmured.
“Yes,” I sighed. “When I’ve gotten my bearings, we are going to argue about the marriage we both refused when my stepfather tried to force it on us. When I told you that a baby is not a reason to get married, and that I loathed the institution of it because all it does is make women the property of men.”
Elden just looked at me. He didn’t smile, face completely devoid of emotion. The corner of his lip didn’t even turn up in that kind of smile he had. He just stared, his eyes twinkling ever so slightly. But there were also plenty of shadows in them. Surrounding him. He was haunted, already by what happened. It hurt me to see it, but it didn’t stop me from being pissed.
“If this is you without your bearings, I’m gonna need to prepare,” he commented dryly.
I scowled at him, but before I could launch into another diatribe, he moved forward, grasping my hands in his and lifting them up to his mouth, kissing them lovingly.