Page 80 of Redemption's Inferno

“Fine.” They glared at each other.

“What, um, what are we talking about?” Emilie asked carefully.

“Basketball!” They spoke in unison, giving each the other one more dirty look before bursting out laughing.

“It’s a military thing,” Erin’s husband, Drake, whispered in Emilie’s ear. “Just let it go.”

“Yeah…definitely.” Emilie pretended to tiptoe away.

* * *

Several hours later, after everyone had been eating, drinking and celebrating to the point of exhaustion, Emilie found Chains in their room. He was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, the one she usually rocked Simone in, a sheaf of papers in his lap.

“What are you doing?” she asked quietly.

He looked up. “Lamenting all the mistakes, all the betrayal, all the misery of my life before you.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning forward.

“Warren. Bloody Warren!” He shook his head. “My friend! My mentor! Why? Why would he do this to me? And more than that—why would he do it to you?”

“Greed?” Erin had given her the condensed version of what was in the report she’d given Chains, since most of it was classified, and Emilie had spent a lot of time trying to come to terms with Warren’s betrayal.

“How much money makes a man do those kinds of things?” he muttered.

“I don’t know exactly what he did or how much he got for it,” she said carefully. “But I think he realized he’d made a big mistake and putting us together was his way of redeeming himself.”

“He destroyed me—my career, my reputation—everything!”

“He didn’t.” She dropped to her knees beside him. “He made you stronger. He didn’t do that part on purpose, but that was what he did, no matter what his intentions were. You’re the man you are today because he betrayed you. If he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have gone to work for Joe. Wouldn’t have come to Las Vegas. Wouldn’t have met me.”

He cupped her chin in his hand. “If he wasn’t a greedy bloody traitor, I would forgive him everything just for giving me you…but he betrayed his country, the agency, and his brothers in arms for a few dollars.”

“A lot of dollars, but yes, he did. Some people are clearly motivated by money.”

“Not you.” He knew that already.

She smiled. “Don’t be fooled…there will be designer shoes and handbags and dresses in my future—but not at the expense of my family. Or the way I feel about you. We both make six figures; that’s a lot of money for most people and Jamie and Viggo will be supporting their children. That’s a lot of play money for us.”

He snorted. “What about our children?”

She grinned. “I don’t recall you asking me if I wanted more children.”

“Darling.” He cupped her cheek and leaned forward. “Would you do me the honor of bearing my children?”

“Plural?”

He chuckled. “If we have a boy, you might be off the hook. A girl means you’d have to try again.”

She swatted his hand away. “How about you let me recover from this one first?”

“Take all the time you need, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you, Darryl Carruthers.”

“I love you, too, Emilie Sjoberg.”

Epilogue

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