Page 22 of His Mafia Sunshine

I summon the last of my strength, forcing my leaden arm to move, my blood-slick fingers to find his face. I trace the curve of his cheekbone, the arch of his brow, trying to memorize every line and plane, every precious inch of him.

"Love... you..." I rasp, the words a broken whisper, a final, sacred vow. "Always... sunshine. My... everything."

Asher makes a wounded, animal sound, his forehead pressing hard against mine. "Forever," he breathes, fierce and shattered. "No matter what, Liam. In this life and the next."

I want to hold on. Want to cling to him, to this moment, with every fiber of my being. But the darkness is rising, cold and inexorable, dragging me down into its fathomless depths.

The last thing I feel is the press of Asher's lips against mine, warm and soft and tasting of salt. The last thing I hear is the desperate thunder of his heart, beating in time with my own.

And then there's nothing. Nothing but the deep, velvety black, shot through with a growing brilliance that seems to call my name.

I'm sorry, sunshine, I think as the light engulfs me, swallows me whole. I'm so fucking sorry.

And then I know no more.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The steady, rhythmic sound invades the warm, cottony darkness, dragging me towards a surface I don't want to breach. I try to sink back down, to let the void take me again, but the noise is insistent, relentless.

With a supreme effort, I force my heavy lids open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent glare. For a moment, I'm completely disoriented, my mind sluggish and uncomprehending.

And then it all comes rushing back - the warehouse, the gunfight, Declan's snarling face. Asher, small and desperate, pleading with me not to go.

Asher.

I try to sit up, to call out for him, but my body won't cooperate. Pain lances through my chest, my shoulder, stealing my breath and making spots dance in my vision.

"Hey, hey, easy." A soft voice, a gentle hand on my arm. "Don't try to move, Liam. You've been through a lot."

I turn my head, the small motion taking a Herculean effort. Mia sits beside my bed - because that's where I am, I realize belatedly, in a hospital bed - her face drawn and exhausted, but smiling.

"There you are," she says softly, giving my arm a careful squeeze. "We were starting to worry you were gonna sleep forever."

I lick my dry, cracked lips, trying to force words past the desert of my throat. "Asher," I croak, the name a broken rasp. "Where...?"

Mia's smile widens, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "He's okay," she assures me, her voice warm with relief and affection. "Barely left your side for days. We finally convinced him to go home and shower, get some real food in him. He'll be so mad he missed you waking up."

Tears sting my eyes, a knot loosening in my chest. Asher's alive. Safe. The knowledge is a balm, a benediction, easing an ache I hadn't even realized I was carrying.

"Declan?" I ask, almost dreading the answer. "Is he...?"

Mia's expression darkens, her mouth thinning into a grim line. "Dead," she says flatly. "Asher put a bullet right between his eyes, after he shot you. It was over quick."

A shudder runs through me, a confusing tangle of relief and grief and a sick, vicious satisfaction. My brother, my tormenter, the monster that haunted my steps and dogged my soul...

Gone. Just like that, in a spray of blood and bone, a life snuffed out as easily as a candle flame.

Part of me mourns him, the brother I once knew. The boy who bandaged my scrapes and snuck me sips of whiskey when our old man's back was turned. But that boy died long ago, swallowed up by the cold, ruthless thing that took his place.

In the end, Declan made his choice. And Asher made his. The fact that I'm lying here, breathing and whole, is a testament to that.

"The rest of them scattered to the winds after Declan went down," Mia continues, her voice taking on a note of grim satisfaction. "Finn included. He knows there's no place for him here anymore, not after what he did."

I close my eyes, swallowing down the bitter ache of betrayal. Finn's treachery cuts deep, a wound that will take longer to heal than the ones in my flesh. But that's a battle for another day, when I'm not so weak and wrung out.

"What happens now?" I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer. "With Declan gone, the whole organization will be in chaos. There'll be a power vacuum, people scrambling to fill it. It could get bloody."

Mia shakes her head, a small, secretive smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I don't think so," she says, a glint of something like pride in her eyes. "Asher's been busy, while you were out. Making calls, cashing in favors. Seems like a lot of people are real eager to play nice with the man who took down Declan O'Connor."

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