Page 26 of Look how well You take this C*ck

His eyes won’t leave Ellie as he’s strapped to the bed and injected with the paralytics to stop his heart. Kevin Dawson was convicted on every count of murder, as well as child abuse, after failing to keep his promise to confess and accept a deal. His decision has cost him his life, and now he’s being put to death.

Ellie cried all morning, not because she would miss him but because it was almost over, and she had hope that she’d no longer be seen as the serial killer’s daughter.

She smiles as his eyes close, and the sound of his heartbeat stops. His life is gone, and hers has begun. It started with her meeting the families of all his victims and offering apologies the man never would.

This is not only the first time Kevin has seen Ellie since she walked out of my interrogation room on him, but the last time. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her, and as we await the arrival of our second baby, I don’t see life slowing her down anytime soon.

“Let's go home.” She peers up at me. There is sadness in her eyes at missing all the things she’d never have with her mom, but I see the relief as well.

Grazing her cheek with a finger, I kiss her temple. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“A triple chocolate milkshake?” Mood change. She’s nearly vibrating with excitement.

Chuckling at her cuteness, I nod my head and hold out a hand for her. As we’re leaving the viewing room, a younger girl of about seventeen stops us. “Uhm, Ellie Dawson?” She’s nervous, which puts me on edge.

“It’s Wolfe now, but yes, that’s me.” Ellie smiles at the teen.

“Sorry,” she sniffles, her red-rimmed eyes slowly sliding up to meet my wife’s. “I’m Lulee Swift. My mom was…” Tears gather in her eyes, and I can see my wife getting upset all over again.

Pulling the girl into a hug, Ellie holds her while she cries. “I’m so sorry, Lulee. I wish the words were adequate enough, but I know they’re not.”

Drawing back, the girl wipes her eyes with a Kleenex. “It’s not your fault. Never was. I just wanted to come and say thank you for the card, your kind words, and the flowers. My mom, she would have liked you.”

Holding Lulee’s hand, Ellie offers, “We were about to go get milkshakes. Would you like to join us?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she hedges, her gaze flicking to me.

“You’re not,” I assure her. “You’re welcome to join us. My son is going to be home for the weekend, so we’re having a barbeque tonight as well. We’d love to have you.”

“I’m here with my mom’s ex. They broke up years before her murder, but he wanted to be here for me. Is it okay if he comes too?” I nod briefly as a man walks up behind her. The intensity in his stare as his eyes assess her body tells me he’s not just the mom’s ex. At least, not for long.

“That’s fine,” I reply as the man's hand lands on the small of her back.

“Oh.” She startles and blushes but moves on quickly. I doubt she picks up on his attraction to her. “This is Dade Mitchell. Dade, this is Ellie and…”

“Lars.” I offer a hand. “We were just inviting Lulee for milkshakes and a barbeque. We’d love to have you both.”

“You’re Captain Lars Wolfe?” Dade asks, and my hackles rise again as I nod. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Thank you for catching the monster who murdered Lulee’s mom; she was a good woman.”

“Sure.” I hate how Ellie stiffens at his words.

“And I’m sorry for your loss as well, Ellie. I can’t imagine how hard this has all been on you. Especially when you’ve done nothing wrong.” The words are befitting, but I sense he’s only trying to be nice. I’ll have to keep an eye on him around my wife.

“Thank you, but you’re right. He was a monster. He’s where he belongs now.” Her head leans into my chest, and I get us moving along for that milkshake she wanted so I can get her home and into bed.

We spend the weekend visiting with Damon while he’s home, having that barbeque, and making plans for the summer. I was right about Dade, too. He wants Lulee as more than his old flame’s daughter. He sees the young woman as his, and I get the feeling he rubs me the wrong way because he and I are cut from the same cloth.

We see what we want, we plot, we plan, and we take.

It worked in my favor. I suspect it’ll work in his, too.

Epilogue Two

Six Years Later.

“Come on, baby. You still have two more at home and one on the way; you can’t keep killing me like this.” I glare at my husband as he says this and eagerly waves goodbye to our second son on his first day of kindergarten.

“If you don’t shut up right now, I don’t know that you’ll get the opportunity to make another one,” I snap at him, and he fights to hide his amusement.

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