“Why don’t I show you?”
She nodded, and I took her hand in mine, leading her toward the basement. The smell of construction intensified. She shook lightly but didn’t fight me,trustingme. I opened the door for her and flicked on the light. The scent here was older and earthy.
“Mason,” she gasped as she stepped onto the landing at the top of the stairs. She surveilled the damage like the queen she was, with her chin held high. A small smile spread across her lips. The room was ripped apart, the stage dismantled, and the cages removed. The podium and that vile fucking gavel were disposed of.
“Can I see more?”
“If you’re careful and stay by my side,” I gestured for her to follow me.
“Okay,”
“Good girl,” I smiled, taking her hand as we walked down the steps. There was a clear and safe path for the construction workers, but I still slapped a helmet on her head from the two hanging beside the stairs for this reason. She smiled ever so slightly at the up-close evidence of the basement's destruction. It took longer than usual to navigate the wreckage, but I eventually opened the hallway door. “You can look, but you can't go in.”
“That’s fine. I never really wanted to go in there again.” She stepped forward and gasped when she saw a large room rather than the hall—every room and every surface had been removed, and all that was left were piles of rubble, “What about the tunnel?”
“Ultimately, it’s up to you, but I have a crew scheduled to rip up the parking lot, fill the tunnel and cover it back up.”
She stared at the empty space, something warm and sad in her eyes, “I'll have to think about it. They used it for terrible things, but these buildings' history long outlasts your father and the syndicate.”
“That's true, Claire. But, of course, it's entirely your decision. And with my office in City Hall, it might be nice to have a secret path to one another.”
“Your what?” she laughed as she closed the door and turned to face me.
“The most important part of my father’s job was his work within the city. That’s how he kept his power so effectively. Gavin and a few other pawns were running things in his stead, but it’s time they all go the same way Gavin did. I have work to do.”
“You’re going to kill them!?”
I gave her a sheepish look, “They’re already gone.”
She shook her head as she walked back and forth around the mess for a while, her face serious but soft.
“What are you thinking?” I needed to know.
“That I love you, and I cannot believe you did all this for me,” she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down for a long, slow kiss.
I pulled back and looked deeply into those sweet brown eyes, “I didn’t just do it for you, baby. There are a lot of people I did this for.”
“Even better.”
Epilogue
Claire
Six months later,
The water lapped at my skin as my body rested against the sand in the shallow ocean water. The tide was moving out, and I was slowly but surely going from floating entirely in the salty water to lying on the sand. I kept my eyes closed against the intense sun, but I occasionally felt little crabs scuttling by. They made me jump at first, but now I was used to them. We’d been in the Bahamas for two weeks.
Mason lay next to me, our hands tangled as the sun beat on our skin. He was going to look like a lobster by the time we went back to our room, something I found both hilarious and sexy. He just didn't seem like the type to wear beach shorts and have red peeling skin, but there was no expectation or responsibility here. Well, other than the bodyguards that tried to make themselves scarce. But, of course, being the head of a criminal organization, you can't ever be too careful.
After the shoot-out at his father's estate and striking a bargain with the chief of police, things had been almost peaceful. That peace was tenuous and required the stoic suit-wearing Mason I fell in love with. It was nice to see his carefree side, even if it only happened when we went on vacation. There was violence in his line of work, occasionally death, but I didn't worry about that now. I was a part of it.
He made the calls, and while it was hard, things in our city were already improving. I trusted him not to kill indiscriminately and found that I genuinely didn't care that he killed. I was a killer too, and he didn't end lives unless he had to. I had found so much freedom in accepting those truths.
The library was flourishing in the months since the renovations finished. Since I was chairman of the board, thanks to my husband, and head librarian, I took it upon myself to invest in new computer suites, a killer children's area, and many little improvements that made the library a better place. I loved my work, and with Emma slated to graduate, I would offer her a position as my assistant librarian and Kiana Emma’s current job.
Mason often came home bloody, but it wasn't from the people he killed or battles of life and death, but rather his enjoyment in the underground fight rings he'd set up. I sometimes watched him when I felt incredibly bold, but most of the time, I didn't have the stomach for the savage way he'd pummel his opponents—though I sure did like making Mason feel better when he came home with a split lip or a black eye. When he wrapped his hands around my neck, and they had fresh bloody wounds? I melted, completely unable to help myself.
I opened my eyes, my thoughts drifting back to our picturesque surroundings. Things had finally settled enough that leaving was possible. It was the first time in our married life that we were truly alone for any substantial amount of time, and I was getting greedy for his undivided attention. I was glad our city was a better, safer place, but I couldn't deny my resentment toward that duty taking so much of his time.