Page 162 of Hot for Hostage

I would take him hostage again in a heartbeat.

~fin~

epilogue

. . .

Davian

Davian Reed’s Guide to Tricking Your Hostage-Taker into Spending the Rest of Her Life with You, Tip #1: Include her furry bodyguard in the proposal.

Neither of my two conditions for adopting Bear lasted long.

In the eight months since Sadie moved in, Bear slept in our bed more often than not.

And we’d adopted six more dogs.

Six.

At first, Sadie claimed we were only fostering a few—including Bear’s best bud, Mr. Woofkins—while Happy Tails Haven was getting much-needed renovations. Then construction finished, but all the dogs seemed happy to stay in their new home.

When I brought up our agreement, Sadie was quick to point out that, “You said you didn’t want azoo, and this isn’t a zoo. A zoo is defined as ‘an establishment which maintains a collection of wild animals, typically in a park or gardens, forstudy, conservation, or display to the public.’ This is more of a dog sanctuary.”

She’d outsmarted me on a technicality.

I shouldn’t have found it as hot as I did.

And the kicker was my donation had funded the renovations, so I only had myself to blame.

The dogs were just the tip of the iceberg with how much my life had changed since Sadie burst into it. I’d found a partner who not only didn’t shy away from my life, but seamlessly fit into it while adding her own personal touch. Music became a constant presence in Tony’s kitchen with Sadie in there, and my chef smiled more in the last eight months than I’d seen him smile in years. Walter’s children were thriving in little pots around the house—thanks to the gardeners keeping Sadie away from them. Baked goods now accompanied every meeting.

Vince had gained ten pounds since she moved in.

It had its challenges, too. Sadie had a habit of accidentally getting involved with our jobs, walking in on deals in my office, and having a sixth sense for whenever I put someone in the shed—the inside of which had been wallpapered pink without my knowledge.

And the secret bookcase armory in my office had to be expanded to keep my shoes out of Bear’s reach.

Sadie’s self-defense training with Vince had gone so well that Sadie persuaded more of my men to teach her their specialties, too. Working with Tony in the kitchen and Hollis at the front gate were her favorite spots—if only because both allowed her to hand out baked goods. She’d also convinced Malcolm to give her tips on getaway driving, then Enzo let her shadow him during a hacking job, but we drew the line at weapons training.

As cute as Sadie would look with a pink gun, the world just wasn’t ready for it. Neither was my blood pressure.

Her place by my side had been cemented after news of Zain and Murdock’s foiled abductions spread through the underground—even earning Sadie a reputation as a skilled fighter.

I didn’t bother correcting that rumor. It worked in our favor.

And despite my plans, I’d let Zain live, after all. Mostly because Sadie had made it her personal mission to “mend fences” with the Ali brothers, and she would’ve noticed if one suddenly ended up six feet under. Her plans involved having them volunteer at the shelter, exploring non-criminal hobbies, and finding a math tutor for Fessy. It took one look from me for the boys to play along with her wishes, but I drew the line at Sadie inviting them both to Thanksgiving.

That didn’t stop her from sending them a dozen pumpkin pies for the holiday, then cookie boxes on Christmas—with notes saying the treats were from both of us.

It was a confusing time for my reputation.

Zain and Murdock’s initial fates served as a warning of what would happen if anyone tried to touch Sadie, which gave us peace for a few months. But after one of my deals went sideways, a north-side gangbanger cooked up a plan to take Sadie while she was walking Bear.

The hellhound proved a worthy guard dog, and they escaped unscathed long enough to hide and call me. I made sure that was the last attack anyone attempted.

Every day was a surprise with Sadie. From dance parties in the kitchen to her becoming my confidant for work, I was a lucky bastard to call her mine.

Last month, she hosted a wedding between Bear and a Samoyed named Cookie in our backyard. I’d never participated in anything more ridiculous in my life—and that was coming from someone who’d attended a funeral for aplant—but it’d been worth it to see how happy it made her.

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