I almost tell him I don’t care, but decide I’d rather save my energy for something better. So I just squeeze him harder and burst into tears.
“Fuck,” James says and finally wraps his arms tight around me. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m fucking sorry you had to see that. Don’t cry.”
The fact that he’s apologizing for what he did and worrying about me just makes me cry harder.
He almost died because of me and my stupidity, and he punished and killed the men who tried to kill me.
The men who had a hand in the death of my father.
He has absolutely nothing to apologize for.
I’m the one who owes him. I’m the one who is going to spend the rest of her life making it up to him.
But dammit, I can’t even tell him that right now!
Tipping my head back, I peer up at him and try to show him that with my eyes.
But he must see something completely different because his face just crumbles even more. “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking—”
Not willing to hear him say sorry one more fucking time, I force three words out of my raw throat.
“I love you.”
James freezes, going stiff in my arms. “What was that?”
Is he serious?
Johnathan speaks up for me. “She said she loves you, you putz.”
“Yes, I do believe that’s what I heard over here,” Lucifer helpfully adds.
“That’s what I heard,” Gabriel says. “Though why she’d love a crazy fucker like you, I don’t know.
“I heard it too.” Andrew chuckles. “And I can attest that she’s hasn’t been given any strong narcotics.”
James shoots a glare over my head then his attention is back on face.
His eyes intense and needy as they stare into my eyes. “You love me?”
I nod my head and wince.
“You sure?” James asks, as if he can’t quite believe it.
As if it’s too good to be true.
Willing to do anything for him, even if that means hurting myself to give him what he needs, I croak, “Yes.”
For better or worse, I love this man.
Love him with every little fiber of my being.
James shudders against me and stares down at me with a look of awe and wonder on his face.
Gripping him tighter, the blood on him soaking through the shirt I’m wearing, I scream with my eyes—now kiss me and take me home, you putz.
Epilogue
James
7 Months Later
“You do know, James, you’re starting to breathe a little heavy there,” Jude says with a grunt. “Been skipping your cardio?”
I drop the hands of the fat fucker we’ve been carrying up the warehouse stairs and the man’s head hits the concrete with a loud thump.
“I’m not getting a dad bod, asshole. Quit parroting John,” I growl at Jude then take a deep breath. “This fucker just weighs a ton, literally.”
I’m getting real sick of Johnathan’s little joke. I’ve weighed myself and kept to my workout routine most days of the fucking week.
Jude is just talking shit because he has to carry this fucker’s feet.
It’s not a pretty sight down there. The man’s legs and stomach are completely mangled beyond repair.
He’s still alive, but only barely.
And not for much longer.
This is the last of the cops on the Russian’s payroll.
Given that he’s the only one who has any sniper experience, we think he was probably the one who pulled the trigger on Amy and Michael. Although he firmly denied it during torture and interrogation.
Either way, I’m finally sending my brother a slave in Hell.
Jude smiles at me as he drops the man’s feet and stands up to stretch his body. When he leans to the side, he groans a little.
“Still sore?” I ask, looking at where he keeps his hand. He’s been pretty protective of his right side ever since he was shot down in Louisville.
“It comes and goes,” Jude says with a smirk. “All of you happily married men seem to be losing a step or two.”
Pulling the gun from my hip holster, I aim it at his head. “What was that?”
Jude’s smirk sharpens. “You can’t kill me, I’m the favorite brother. Remember?”
“I’m the real brother,” I smirk right back at him.
“Well, I’ll be. I heard that was finally revealed. It’s taken you two long enough to finally come out,” Jude says as he stretches one more time to work out the kink in his side.
“Finally?” I ask as I holster my gun.
“Yes, I’m surprised it wasn’t brought up sooner,” Jude says and bends down to grab the guy’s feet again.
“You knew?” I ask, and I’m slightly confused about how he knew.
Only Simon was supposed to know about Lucifer and me. Only he was supposed to know our secret.
“The eyes gave it away,” Jude says.
Grabbing the hands of the asshole, I lift and ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Yours get that manic glee in them sometimes when you’re killing, like Matthew’s does,” Jude says, and we begin to climb the stairs to the roof once more.