Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“You did good tonight,” she whispers, tracing a fingertip along the collar of my shirt. “You always do. Making everyone feel safe.”
I shrug, a little self-conscious. “They’re family, in their own way.”
She nods, eyes reflecting the warm light. “A big, protective, kinda crazy family,” she amends with a grin.
We laugh, letting that notion sink in. For a moment, I recall the day I almost lost her, the bullet in my side, the endless hospital nights. My chest tightens with a flood of gratitude that she’s here, that we survived. Slowly, I cup her cheek.
“I love you, you know,” I say, voice thick with emotion. “Not a day goes by where I don’t realize how lucky I am.”
Her gaze softens, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. “I love you too,” she breathes, leaning in. Our lips meet, a soft, lingering kiss that conveys more than words ever could—a quiet vow, a promise of tomorrow.
When we part, she curls closer, resting her head on my shoulder. I skim my fingers up and down her arm. The hum of the air conditioner clicks on, stirring the curtains slightly. Jeb mutters something from the other room, but it’s subdued now that the crowd’s gone.
“What do you think happens next?” she asks softly, perhaps uncertain about the future now that the immediate danger has passed.
I take a slow breath. “We keep living,” I say simply. “Jason’s gone, the Russians are done for, and we’ve got a new normal. We watch out for each other, chase away nightmares if they pop up, and build something real here. Day by day.”
She nods against me. “Yeah. I like that plan.”
We settle into a contented quiet, the weight of the last few months lifting bit by bit. The living room lamp casts shadows that dance across the walls, and I hold onto Briar, my heart full in a way I never imagined possible.
Suddenly, Jeb flutters in, squawking what sounds like “Goodnight!” We exchange amused glances. Briar giggles, sliding off the couch to guide him back to his perch. I watch her, my chest tight with the kind of happiness that’s both terrifying and exhilarating in its intensity.
This is it, I think. This is what I wanted. A home, a life, and someone to share it with. Even if the next mission or crisis calls me away for a while, I know where my heart will remain—right here, with Briar. There’s no question about it.
She returns, curling into my side again, and I press a kiss to her hair. Outside, the night sky stretches infinite and peaceful, unbroken by threats. Inside, warmth and laughter linger, even after the lights dim, forging a memory I’ll carry forever. And I vow that nothing will take this peace from us again.
Bonus Epilogue
Briar
It’s been a few weeks since our big cookout, and life is finally settling into the kind of steady rhythm I’ve always craved. I’m up before dawn most mornings, greeting the birds at the zoo and going over show scripts with the newly expanded avian team—my team, now that Marcie promoted me to bird trainer. The title still feels surreal on my tongue: Bird Trainer. A year ago, it was a distant dream. Now it’s my everyday life.
But today is even more special. Today is the first performance of a brand-new show I pitched to Marcie—a magic extravaganza featuring Orion as the magician and Jeb as his “assistant.” I know, it sounds a little crazy: a trained security specialist turned magician, teamed up with a mischievous African Grey parrot. Marcie’s eyebrows nearly hit the roof when I first proposed it. But Orion and I practiced for weeks, and Jeb’s comedic timing is so spot-on that even I can’t stop laughing during our rehearsals. And Orion’s helped him get over his stage fright.
Now, I’m leaning against the backstage railing, heart thudding with a mix of nerves and excitement. The zoo’s small amphitheater is packed—families with wide-eyed kids, young couples on dates, older folks who come to the zoo just for the bird shows. The sun is high overhead, but the staff has set up big umbrellas for shade, and there’s a constant breeze rustling the palm trees lining the back of the stage.
Marcie stands beside me, clipboard in hand, scanning the audience with that critical gaze of hers. “Looks like a full house,” she mutters, half to herself, half to me.
I nod, taking a steadying breath. “Yep. Fingers crossed everything goes smoothly.”
She shoots me a sharp grin. “It will, Bird Trainer.”
I snort softly, my stomach fluttering. I’m about to respond, but an eruption of applause from the stands signals that the show is about to start. We exchange a final glance, and then I slip around the side of the stage, mind racing with last-minute checks: Are Orion’s props ready? Did Jeb get enough warm-up time? Did we feed him enough so he’s not cranky?