Page 69 of Finders Keep Her
“I’m sure that Marks always hits her mark.” That’s all the warning I get before Cosima is dropping to the ground. I lift my foot, bringing it down on the man’s as hard as I can, like my father taught me. I glance up just in time to catch the knife Cosima tosses to me, the same action we’ve done a million times together.
I catch the handle, gripping it hard before I jam it into the man’s thigh, making sure my hand doesn’t slip and cut my own palm in the process. He lets out a scream, and I turn the knife, the gun falling from his hand as he lets out another scream. He starts to go down too, taking me with him.
I hit the ground, bracing myself for his body to collide with mine, but it never happens. I quickly roll to my back, ready to kick him or try to get the gun that skidded across the floor.
My mouth falls open when I see Ronan, his hand in the man's hair yanking his head back as he brings a knife to his throat, slitting it. The blood sprays out, splattering everything around them.
Ronan releases the man’s head, and he drops like the dead weight that he is. Ronan and I stare at each other. His face isunreadable as he takes a step toward me and plucks me right off the ground, his mouth taking mine in a deep, hard kiss.
I wrap my arms around him, kissing him back with the same intensity. “Did my coding work?” I can’t help but ask when the kiss breaks. Ronan’s whole face softens, a small smile forming there.
“Of course it did,” he says, having never doubted it.
There are always number codes to get into everything. It can take years to crack these codes. The longer the code, the more years it can take for a computer system to break it by trying every number combination possible.
Except what Ronan had told me stuck in my mind. Nothing is random. You only have to figure out people’s patterns, and that’s just what I did. I gathered all the information I could find on Cyberius; his little cat and mouse game he thought we were playing wasn’t a game at all.
I took that information and entered it into a new system designed to track Cyberius’s patterns, using that personal information to enhance the code so the system could more accurately predict which code Cyberius would have used not only for the lock on his door but for various aspects of his life. You’re never picking a random number when you set up a key code; you might believe that, but you’re not. You’re prone to your own patterns. By identifying those patterns, you can uncover everything.
The curtain to the back yanks open, War filling the space, only momentarily before Tova is pushing him out of the way, Zero right behind her, going for Cosima.
"I had it under control," Cosima tells Zero.
"I miss everything," Tova huffs.
“I’ll get this.” Rochelle pulls the curtain back into place. The sales lady appears unfazed by this and doesn’t utter a word as Rochelle closes the curtain.
“That’s a lot of blood.” Tova presses her hands to her cheeks. I wiggle, and Ronan places me back on my feet but doesn’t release his hold on me. I don’t want him to either. We might be safe, but my mind is still catching up to all of this.
“I think the blood makes the dress better.” Cosima shrugs, smirking. I swear it’s like déjà vu. I know one thing for certain: We girls will never be allowed to go on a shopping trip together again.
“Is everyone okay?” I turn my attention to Ronan. His big hand cups my cheek.
“Yes,youdid it. You caught him.”
“Wedid it.” A sweet ache forms in my chest.
We, I, was part of a team, a family. One that will always be at my side. It hits me that when I marry Ronan, both Cosima and Tova will be my sisters. All of them will truly be my family.
I am done hiding and running. I’m a Marino now. The way Ronan and I found each other may be a little crazy. But you know what they say, Finders Keepers. I am Ronan’s, and he is mine from now until eternity.
Epilogue
RONAN
MANY YEARS LATER
If I thought I had my hands full with my wife, then I’m in over my head now. Our baby girl is a mini Ellie but more rough and tumble around the edges. That much is clear with how she is already doing coding projects with her mom that I still can’t understand and then rolling around in the dirt with the cousins.
She is a clone of her mother with her wild red curls and freckled cheeks, but there is me in there too. That protectiveness I always have over the two of them she too has over all of her family members. Even if it means whacking a few of her boy cousins with a stick to get them to break up one of their fights, and she is only four.
Mackenzie is going to be a beautiful handful, that’s for sure. She’s been that from the start. I don’t care what any of them say, Mackenzie is the brightest and smartest out of all of the kids. Ellie agrees, and this is why we only have her and have no plans for a second child. Why would we when we have perfection already?
I brush a curl out of her face. Mackenzie is pretending to be sound asleep with her head on my chest. Not sure I can handle a second child. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking loved seeing Ellie pregnant and seeing that first sonogram. Until she started getting further along.
Then I was consumed with worry over childbirth and the pain. My little fox hates pain, and there are a million things that could happen. For once the tables had turned, and I was the one barely keeping my shit together while Ellie was as cool as a cucumber. Even when she was in labor. I swear there isn’t a thing my wife can’t do.
I slowly stand, sticking with the charade of Mackenzie being heavily asleep, and carry her over to her bed. When I reach to pull the blanket over her, I see one eye pop open but quickly close. I don’t smile, allowing her to think that she's pulled one over on me. I’m sure she’s up to something, and soon enough we will all find out what it is.
