by Dana Volney
“Claire,” Samson’s words were labored.
“It’s okay, Samson. It’s going to be okay.”
Blood was seeping out of his sturdy body and his eyes fluttered shut.
“It looks like we have a standoff here.” Diego’s voice was in front of her.
“What are you going to do with your nephew?” she snapped and eyed Diego hard.
Diego’s gaze slipped to Padarn kneeling on the ground—he’d been shot in the arm either by Rife, Milo, or Diego’s bodyguard.
“He’ll be dealt with.” Diego was calm. Much calmer than when he’d seen his bank account at zero.
“How?” She wasn’t fucking messing around anymore. If this asshole said one wrong word, she was going to put a bullet between his eyes.
“Until he gives us our money back, he’ll be kept alive.”
Torture was too good for him. “And the club?”
“Shut down.”
“Permanently.” She didn’t blink. “Or the video of this night makes its way to the feds.”
Diego nodded, not fazed by her revelation in the slightest. His bodyguard picked up Padarn and they hauled him out through the front door.
An ambulance wailed in the background. EMTs rushed in and knelt beside her and Samson. God, the blood was everywhere.
“Gunshot.” She rushed her words. That’s all she had to say though; she didn’t know anything else. His chest wasn’t moving up and down as quickly as it should. His eyes were closed. Her heart was being ripped out of her chest with each passing moment.
She just wanted to see his beautiful brown eyes watching her again.
The two EMTs loaded Samson on the gurney. Claire scrambled to her feet. She faltered on her heels and took them off as she hurried to follow Samson to the ambulance.
“Where are you taking him?” Rife grabbed her arm to stabilize her.
“Arlington General,” one of the EMTs called out.
Rife’s blue truck screeched to a stop, Sabene at the wheel.
The ambulance took off and she hopped in through the passenger door and scooted over, ending up in the small middle area where the console usually rested. Milo piled into the back seat and Rife barely got the passenger door shut before Sabene took off.
“He’s going to be okay,” Sabene said as she took the corner at thirty miles per hour.
“You don’t know that.” Claire had been on both sides of death. Neither was fun.
She and Samson had used up more than their share of miracles over the years. She didn’t know if they had any left.
Sabene slammed on the brakes on the curb by the emergency room, but by the time they got to the desk, Samson had already been taken into surgery.
Now they had to wait.
She was sick of waiting. If Samson … when Samson pulled through, she was telling him exactly what she thought of him.
I told you wild horses, Samson. I meant it.
* * *
The machines beeped as she sat by his bed, holding his hand. The team had gone home after Samson made it through surgery with flying colors. Nothing major had been damaged and all internal bleeding had been stopped.
He was going to heal. She knew that, she’d been told twice now by the different nurses coming in and out, but she wasn’t going to trust that until he opened his eyes and smiled at her.
Screw this. She crawled up next to him and lay on her side to fit in the bed. The machines didn’t go off and he didn’t stop breathing, so surely that was okay.
She perched her head on her arm folded behind her head and braced her palm on his chest. His right side was the one with the bandages under his gown.
She moved her fingertips over the rumpled area of the bandage, smoothing out the blue diamonds on the white gown.
“Oh, lover,” she sighed.
The team was family and all, but Samson was her person. Through thick and thin, somehow they’d been there for each other. She couldn’t see her life without him. She just couldn’t.
Samson groaned and opened his eyes. Relief started to wash down her arms.
He was okay. He was alive and with her. She pushed away the tingles of sadness that wanted to sweep her body. He was with her physically but not mentally. He’d made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her.
* * *
Samson opened his eyes and wasn’t all surprised to find himself laying in a hospital bed.
The shock was Claire snuggled next to him.
Fuck this. He was done feeling sorry for himself. The last twenty-four hours had been the worst. Which was saying something. He wasn’t going to deal with this sad shit again. The op was over. It was now or never. He was going to tell her how he felt. He was going to lay it out on the line.
He loved her. Craved her. Might die without her. He accepted who she was—imperfections and all.
“Samson?” Her head perked up.
“Who are you?” His brows wrinkled and he tried to pull away from her warmth. Whatever medicine they’d pumped him with was strong and his body felt woozy. He could still take this opportunity to have a little fun though.
“Claire. Don’t you remember me?”
A smile with a bit of a wince filled his face and he settled back into the bed.
She swatted at him and let out a pocket of air. The concern in her gaze turned to relief as she smiled and kissed his temple.
“Hi,” her words were only above a whisper. “Glad to have you back.”
Loving Claire was in his DNA. Imprinted for life. She was simply too precious not to hold dear. Telling her how he felt surely wasn’t going to be worse than what his current future held.
* * *
“Careful.” She patted his chest and rubbed his pecks to settle him back into the bed. He didn’t need to be going anywhere right now. He had some major healing to do.
“Did you get him?” His words were pained as he moved a little more to put his arm around her.
“SL-40 has officially moved out. Sabene is going to monitor them from now on though.”
“Good.” He rolled his head to face her; they were nearly nose to nose.
She sighed out the worry she’d been harboring since the first shot rang out. “You saved my life,” she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. It was hard to speak without breaking into a full on cry.
“I’d do it again.” His gaze dropped down to her mouth before meeting her eyes again.
She pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” She ran her index finger over his chin and his thick scruff.
“Yeah, I am.” He winked.
She chuckled and he grinned back at her.
This was it. She was going all in. No con. Just her. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d like another chance to be with you. I have loved you for what feels like two lifetimes. I want to love you for all of them.”
The ends of his lips turned up and he kissed her. “For some crazy-ass reason, I love you, too.” He hugged her closer to him. “My angel.”
“I think you deserve that title more than I do.” She slacked deeper into his arms. A weight she’d been carrying around for far longer than the last week lifted. She was exactly where she was supposed to be and with the man she was going to be with forever.
“Nah, I’m better with you than without you. You make my life worth living.”
“You make mine a hell of a lot more fun.” Her gaze dipped to his side. “And stressful.”
“I’m going to be okay.” He nodded as reassurance. “I swear to God though, Claire, if you ever run a con on me again—”
“I promise I won’t.” She got the words out as fast as she could and kissed his cheek. “Truth.”
“Do you know what else we need?” he asked.
“What?” She grinned at his coyness. She could think of a couple of things they could do in this bed if he was feeling up to it.
“Live under one roof.” His thumb rubbed over her skin and she embraced the pleas
ure that they brought. “Move back in with me?”
“I’d love to.” She would gladly move out of her apartment this minute. It wasn’t home. Samson was her home.
“Good, because that couch was going to get old quick.”
“You didn’t sleep in your bed last night?”
“Our. Our bed. It’s not the same without you. Never has been. I only want to sleep in it with you. For the rest of our lives.”
He kissed her and this one deepened, consuming her.
“That better be for a long time, lover.” She rested her forehead on his.
The world was theirs for the taking, and she couldn’t wait to see what they were going to do with it.
Author Biography
Dana Volney lets her imagination roam free in Wyoming, where she writes romances and helps local businesses succeed with her marketing consulting company. Splitting her time between telling sexy, fast-paced suspense stories and sweet holiday romances, she likes to try new adventures in real life whenever she can (which, let’s face it, means tasting all sorts of delicious cuisines). Dana is bold, adventurous, and—by her own admission—good with plants, having kept a dwarf lemon tree alive for six months.
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