Page 85 of Ferocious Nightmare

Her throat bobbed. "Okay."

"They’re from Dimitri, your father."

“You mean the asshole who shared his DNA with my mother?" she scoffed. "He's not my father. Just some guy with a dick."

I breathed out a laugh; fuck she was funny. I loved that mouth.

Then I nodded, growing serious again. “Yes. That one. He came for Rose, you know. Showed up at my house. In the end, what he wanted, was you.”

She nodded, "Rose told me about it. I’m glad you killed the bastard.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she touched the scars. “Is this from where he shot you?"

I nodded. "Yes." I guided her fingers over them. "And do you know what I thought about when I was lying there, almost dying?"

She shook her head. "What?"

“My brother. How he'd protected me my whole life. And now I was finally glad that I'd been able to do one thing for him. The day I got these was the day I realized I loved my brother more than I loved my own life."

Her eyebrows furrowed once more but she didn't speak.

"And," I covered her hand with my palm, caging it over my heart, "it was also the day that I lost any hope of ever having a happy life." Suddenly my throat was tight. Thickened with a knot so large I could hardly speak. I forced my thoughts into words. “And even though I lived, the scars never went away. Not from my skin, and not from the depths of my soul. From then on out, I gave up on happiness and had one goal only. To survive. To make sure Bourbon and Rose found their happiness. To make sure they would be safe for the rest of their lives. That's all I cared about."

I played with her fingers, nervous about my next words at the tip of my tongue.

She didn't speak, but let me gather my courage around me like a warm blanket.

"Until one night, when a beautiful and brave woman was frozen in the middle of a crowded floor. That was the night when something inside me broke through my walled-up emotions, and I knew that I could love you." I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to hers, still clasping her hand across my chest.

I closed my eyes, listening to her breathe and my own heart ache. The pain from my wounds was nothing in comparison to the pain of my heart ripping from my chest as I tried to hand it over to her. "You, Aster, my beautiful, feisty, nightmare. You gave me hope again."

She exhaled a breath of disbelief, and her fingers shook as they traced my wounds softly. Caressing. Pouring her own tender care into the movement.

Aster was a nurturer. She would be a good mother. Much better than my own.

"And do you want to know what I was thinking about when I thought my father was going to kill me?" I asked her.

She looked up from my scars, her eyes wide, and her fingers trembling on my chest. "What?"

"You, Aster. How much I loved you."

She was silent for a moment, and her fingers moved from my scars to cup my jaw. "You do?"

“Yes. You were my nightmare come to life, but now, you’re my fire and soul. You’re my everything.” I clasped her fingers in mine. "I've been scared this whole time. I've never loved a woman who didn't also love my brother. But you, you came back for me. You fought for me.”

"That's because I love you too."

I stilled.

Shit.

Fuck.

Those words, and what they did to me.

The pressure in my throat swelled, spreading a billowing heat across my chest and arms; I would hold on to this moment for the rest of my life. The day the love of my life told me she loved me.

"I wish I'd been there." She spoke again, and it took me a moment to realize what she meant.

She wished she’d been there when I was shot. So, she could…what? Protect me? Stand in front of me?

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