Page 126 of Brutal Ice

Declan and Beau were pretty much standing side by side. They filled that hallway. Royal and Violet advanced toward them. As he closed in on the other two men, they both faced him and Royal said, “Beau always told me that we can choose our families.”

Declan’s chin lifted. The garish light in the hallway hit the scar on his face.

“Declan, this is my brother, Beau.”

Declan’s eyes glittered as he cast a sideways glance at Beau.

And Beau was finally looking at the guy. “What in the hell…?” Beau began.

“And Beau, this is Declan. He’s my?—”

“Yeah, I can figure that shit out.” Suspicion darkened Beau’s face. “Are you here to hurt or to help?”

Well, as to that… “He’s already offered to bury a body for me.”

Beau’s eyes widened. “Dammit, man!” Beau exploded on Royal. “How many times do I have to tell you…don’t say stuff like that in a police station?”

Declan appeared frozen in place.

“There are no bodies to bury!” Beau announced loudly. “None. The doctor of the dead is raising bodies. It’s a misunderstanding. She’s digging them up. Nothing to see here. Jeez.” He glowered. “You know what, how about we take this out of the station? Who wants a drink? I say we all hit LeBlanc’s.”

LeBlanc’s. Beau’s prized bar. “They have the best whiskey in town.” Royal wasn’t sure if Declan was aware of that pertinent fact. “We can talk there.”

Declan released a long breath. “I’d like that.”

Talking…step one.

Tearing the past apart…step two.

Moving the hell on to the future with Violet at his side…end game.

His head turned toward her. A faint smile tilted her lips. She’d stopped him from letting Declan walk away. Oh, hell, it was more than that. She’d stopped Royal the very first night. She’d kept him from going over the edge and straight into the darkness that waited.

He’d meant what he told her before. She might think that he’d saved her when he found Violet in the trunk of that car, but the truth was that she’d saved him.

She glanced his way. Her lashes fluttered as a little furrow appeared between her delicate brows. “Royal?”

“Thank you,” he told her.

“For what?”

His mouth pressed to hers. She kissed him back with no hesitation. Just with joy and need and love.

Thank you.

As to her question…

Thank you for loving the devil, sweetheart. Because I would be lost without you.

Epilogue

The brass band danced even as their music filled the air. Laughter and cheers followed the music…and the second line cascaded down the New Orleans street. Colorful umbrellas swirled in the air, and attendees waved blue handkerchiefs. The groom held the bride’s hand tightly within his grip. Her white dress twirled around her legs as she danced with him. Friends followed. Strong men in dark suits. Women in soft blue dresses holding flowers and laughing the night away. Tourists stopped to wave and cheer.

The wedding had taken place in the St. Louis Cathedral, and Royal still couldn’t quite believe it.

She’s mine.

I’m hers.

---