Page 48 of Protecting Lanie

But Lanie wasn’t done. She twisted out of his grasp and turned, fury burning in her eyes as she raked her nails down his face, leaving long, bloody scratches in her wake.

Molina howled. Archer took the shot. The gunshot echoed, sharp and final. A single bullet, right between his beady little eyes. He never saw it coming. Archer regretted he hadn’t known he was going to die, hadn’t known Archer was the one to pull the trigger.

Molina’s body crumpled, hitting the concrete floor with a sickeningthud. The light in his eyes snuffed out instantly, a thin trickle of blood pooling beneath him.

Archer didn’t move. Didn’t lower his gun. He waited. Breath steady. Focus unshakable.

But Molina wasn’t getting back up.

Not ever.

It was as if the world around them had shrunk to just the two of them, save for the distant sound of gunfire and chaos, as Cerberus dismantled the rest of the operation outside.

Lanie stood frozen, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, her hands trembling. She looked up at Archer, and for the first time since Molina had taken her, really looked at him.

He was the man who’d just put a bullet in her past. The man who had promised to protect her—who had kept that promise without hesitation, without regret.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Archer closed the distance between them in two long strides, shoving his gun back into its holster as he reached for her. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t shy away. She launched herself straight into his arms.

Archer wrapped her up, holding hertight, one hand fisting in her hair, the other gripping the small of her back, pressing her against him like he could fuse her body to his own.

She was shaking. But she wasn’t breaking. She had fought, and she had won. And now—she was his. Completely.

“It’s over,” he murmured, voice low, raw, the words meant for her and her alone.

Lanie’s breath hitched as he clutched her tighter, and Archer knew, without a doubt, that he would never let her go.

CHAPTER 13

LANIE

The full impact of what had happened didn’t sink in until they were back at Archer’s home.

She was safe.

The victims had been freed.

The Master’s Market had suffered a catastrophic blow.

Vinnie was dead.

It was over.

For the first time in years, she wasn’t looking over her shoulder. She wasn’t waiting for the next moment to run, to fight, to survive. Lanie could also identify feelings of being untethered and lost.

She sat curled on the couch in Archer’s dimly lit living room, legs tucked under her, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. She barely remembered Archer leading her inside, his hands steady on her back, his voice quiet and reassuring.

Now, he was nearby, but not crowding her. She felt him, though. The heat of his presence, the unwavering strength of his silence. He hadn’t spoken since they got back. Hadn’t asked her how she was feeling, hadn’t told her she’d done a good job, hadn’t pushed her to process any of it before she was ready. He hadn’t even scolded her. It was a little unnerving.

Instead, he waited, and the significance of that seemed to mean more than anything else.

Finally, a slow, shuddering breath left her lips. “I don’t know what to do now.”

Archer, who had been sitting in the leather chair across from her, finally moved. He didn’t speak right away, just stood, walking toward her with quiet, controlled steps. When he reached her, he crouched down in front of her, resting his forearms on his knees. His gaze locked onto hers, steady, searching.

“You breathe,” he said simply.

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