Page 125 of Santa Daddy
The woman carrying my child loves me.
“I love you too,” I said.
The admission felt like stepping off a roof.
“More than I thought I could,” I added. “More than is probably wise.”
More than anything. More than life. More than the crown everyone was fighting over.
She tilted her head up to look at me. Tears glistened on her cheeks, but her smile was bright and defiant.
“Say it again,” she whispered.
“I love you, Dani Morales,” I said, cupping her face. My thumbs brushed the tears away. “I love you. And I’m going to keep you safe. Whatever it costs.”
Even if it costs what’s left of my soul.
She kissed me, soft and slow. It tasted less like desperation and more like… faith.
“We’re going to survive this,” she said when we parted.
For the first time since the tree lot, I believed that might be true.
I let myself enjoy it.
Just for a heartbeat.
I whispered her name into her hair, a prayer and a promise.
“Dani.”
Then gunfire shattered the window, and the world came crashing back in.
26
WHEN ANGELS SHOOT TO KILL
DANI
They’d found us.
The man who’d just promised me forever vanished; in his place was the killer from the tree lot. His body covered mine, heavy and solid, a wall of heat and muscle between me and the storm. His gun was in his hand like it had always been there.
“Stay behind me,” he said, voice dropping into that deadly register I knew meant men were about to die. “Whatever happens, you stay behind me.”
Like hell.
Glass rained down. Splinters flew. The fire that had listened to our confessions spat sparks, throwing hell-orange light over the chaos.
“The back,” I hissed, grabbing for my own weapon from where we’d stashed it by the couch. “We can get to the trees from the back door.”
You trained me for this. Let me use it.
His gaze locked on mine for half a second in the madness. I saw the war in his eyes—his need to shield me warring with the simple fact that sitting here made us target practice.
He nodded once. “Stay close. Aim center mass. No heroes.”
No heroes. Just survival.
