Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
“Don’t you fucking think about trying to get this back,” Jake says as he holds it, locked and loaded. Then he looks at my dad, the gun on him now. “Don’t you dare move, you piece of shit. You can't have Faith, she is mine. Forever.”
He keeps Jesse pinned and my dad in place until the police arrive.
It doesn't take long for Graham Rough to arrest them both. Tears streak my face. I'm shaking as an ambulance rolls up to the cabin. And then it's not me leaving on a stretcher. It's Jake.
As Graham asks me to explain everything that's happened, I'm barely able to put words together. Jake has been shot. Blood is everywhere. And after everything he's been through.
"I love you," Jake tells me, squeezing my hand. "I love you. We're going to be okay. We're safe now. You're safe now."
"I'm so sorry," I say.
“Shush," he says as they pull him into the ambulance. "Go put on some pants but first promise me you'll marry me."
My heart beats hard with the promise of a life with a man as wonderful las Jake. He sees me, chooses me – loves me. And I love him.
I smile, leaning down and kissing the love of my life. "Of course I will," I say.
He grins somehow. "Fuck, that hurts," he says, his steady hand reaching for his shoulder. The EMT tells him to cool it.
“We got to get this clean. Got to get that bullet out. You understand, Jake?”
I shake my head in awe of this pillar of strength before me.
And then I go inside to put on some pants.
EPILOGUE
JAKE
After I get off work, I head home, stopping at the commissary to grab a loaf of bread for dinner. Faith has been working on her recipes and needs some bread to go with one of them. Since we moved to Germany six months ago, she's been immersing herself in learning local cuisine. I admit, I have absolutely no issues with that.
My wife is literally barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen most afternoons. And beside it being the sexiest thing I've ever seen, it also is keeping me satisfied.
Damn, that woman's a cook. It cracks me up, too, considering I fell in love with her without ever having tasted her food. Maybe that sounds a bit chauvinistic, but she's the one who wanted to be a homemaker. I'd be happy as a clam if that woman wanted to go to work, go back to school. Hell, whatever dream she wants to chase, I got her back. But for now, she's nine months pregnant with our son.
Any day now, we'll be holding our baby in our arms, wondering how we got so lucky, which is a question I'm contemplating constantly.
How could I not? My wife is incredible. After our whirlwind courtship of 24 hours, we got married at the courthouse the moment I was discharged from the hospital. My shoulder needed time to heal before I came back to work, but that allowed us some time to get to know one another better. Not that we hadn't already been intimate, but there are tons of things to learn when you're falling in love. Like what someone's favorite sandwich is, how someone takes their tea, if they prefer the right or the left side of the bed.
Luckily, we both prefer the middle, her on top.
I chuckle as I push open the door of the house.
"Hey, baby," I say. I walk toward my wife who's in the kitchen, in front of the stove. Our apartment is cozy, two bedrooms, one room for us and one for the baby on the way. She's barefoot as expected, but she's not stirring a pot of sauce like I figured. No, she's bracing herself against the counter. "Are you okay?" I ask, rushing in. I drop the bread and my keys and I'm at her side in a moment.
"I think I'm in labor," she says. She looks down at the ground, and my eyes follow. There's puddle of water beneath her.
"Oh, baby," I say. "Your water broke."
Tears flood her face. "I'm sorry. I was making dinner and the next thing I knew my water broke. And then these contractions and... Oh my God." She grabs my hand. "Oh God, Jake, it really hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts."
"It's okay, we got this. We can do anything."
"Okay," she says, taking a deep breath, "but I'm scared."
"Don't be," I say. I run my hand over her hair, turning her toward me. "Baby, you are going to be incredible. You can do this. You can do all sorts of crazy hard things. This is going to be easy. And the best part is at the end of it, you'll have a baby boy, your son."
She smiles. "Our son. Okay, let's go to the hospital." She's already got a bag packed. This girl, she's totally prepared. It's one of the many reasons I love her. She thinks things through, wanting things to be just so, looking to make up for that past of hers that was so damn hard.