Page 52 of The Taker

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

EPILOGUE: LEO

“Maddie, can I do your hair?” Lulu asks as she sits behind her on the couch.

After dinner, she begged her new bestie to play makeover while we all waited for the cinnamon rolls to finish in the oven.

Maddie being the good sport she is, said yes. She sits on the floor, patiently waiting for Julia to finish applying her eye shadow. “Go for it, girl. Just don’t cut or color it.”

Rocco takes a picture of them and sends it to me. “You can add that to your album.”

Who thought the man who tortures people in our basement would be adding photos to my memories album? Not me. But that’s my reality now.

He reaches over me, putting his finger directly in a pot of melted butter, walnuts, and brown sugar I’m stirring on the stove.

“What is wrong with you? That’s hot,” I chastise him. “Get out of the kitchen if you’re going to start fingering the food.” I try to push him away, but he presses into my back.

“I rather finger you, lionheart,” he whispers in my ear in a low seductive voice. “But you won’t kick my cousin out and make the kids go to bed, so here we are…”

“Sorry, I’m just so worried about Sammy. I haven’t heard from him in over a week and he hasn’t gone to work. He isn’t himself,” I lament.

“No worries, lionheart. My best people are looking into what happened. He’ll be okay,” Rocco assures me.

He grabs the spoon out of my hand to steal more walnut butter sauce. I shoo him out, and eventually get our dessert on the kitchen island.

“I forgot to bring a knife, hold on.” I move toward the block on the counter, but Rocco stops me. He holds out a long wrapped, black box, with silver letters on the front.

“Hold on, open this gift.” He hands me the box, and my fingers temple as I undo the paper.

Knowing Rocco, this could be anything from a knife to a bone from some poor soul who cut us off in traffic. I’m hoping it’s something ordinary, since the girls are bouncing on their heels waiting for me to open it.

I pop the lid off, and gasp—an EliteTools Japanese chef’s knife. It’s a stainless steel, perfectly balanced blade that never rusts or dulls. This knife retails for so much that my old employer wouldn’t even think of buying them.

“Oh, Rocco, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Every husband should have the knife of his dreams. Whether that dream is finishing culinary school and opening his own restaurant, or using it at home.”

“What?” I ask with one hundred percent certainty I heard him wrong. He did not just call me his husband.

“Awww, congrats you two,” Maddie cheers.

“Yay!” Lulu cheers, hugging me. “Can I come to the wedding?”

“Of course, and you’ll need to help Leo plan it, because it has to be the best event ever,” Rocco assures her.

Julia hugs us both, then uses the knife to cut into the cinnamon buns because I’m too shell-shocked to do it for her. That bastard skipped over my proposal…just announced it to the family.

“You can at least propose, you know.”

“Nope. Because that means you have a choice. You’re mine, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. We live this life together…” I say.

“Because the thought of a life without you drives me insane,” he replies.

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