With a deep sense of satisfaction, I headed home.

Killing someone like Gambarro rated highly on my ‘I’ve-had-a-good-day-at-work’ scale. I would never be convinced that ridding the earth of scum like him was a bad thing.

Especially not when my family was threatened.

Chapter Nineteen

Evie

Holy mother of God!

The pain shot through me as I tried to suck in a breath and shift in the bed. My eyes flew open and I stifled the cry trying to push through my lips.

“Baby, are you okay?” Kick’s voice cut through my haze of pain.

I turned my head and found him standing next to the bed, his body bent at the waist, face hovering over mine. His distress at my agony warmed me, that he cared so much, but at the same time I hated to see him so worried. I tried to ease his mind. “I’m okay, but I need some painkillers, please.”

He nodded and said, “Good. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I watched as he strode out of the room.

My man loved me.

Everything he did for me showed me just how deep that love was.

And I couldn’t wait for him to get those matching rings.

When he came back, he had water and pills. Kneeling on the floor next to the bed, he asked, “Can you sit up?”

I shook my head, fearful of the pain that shifting would cause. I’d had hardly any sleep and I’d finally found a position that caused the least amount of pain; I didn’t want to chance bringing more pain on.

“Okay, don’t move,” he said, as he passed me the painkillers. “I’ll hold the water for you.”

I took the pills and he brought the glass of water to my lips and helped me swallow them. After he’d placed the glass on the bedside table, I gave him a small smile. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He leant over and placed a kiss on my forehead. “I’m sorry.” His words were simple, but I heard every last drop of pain and sorrow in them.

I gulped back the tears that threatened. Rapidly shaking my head, I said, “No, this isn’t your fault, Kick. Don’t you dare take that blame.”

Kneeling again, his gaze grew serious, and my gut tightened, sensing where this conversation was headed. “You never need to worry about Gambarro again.” His words were hard, and I knew from his tone and the way his entire body had tensed that he was worried about my reaction. He needed me to accept his actions.

“Good,” I said, and watched as the worry eased out of his body. “And, baby, I will always feel that way about anything like this. I trust everything you do because I know it comes from a place of love and a need to protect those you love. Never doubt my love for you and belief in you.”

He stared at me, and I saw the war waging in his soul. Kick was essentially a good person, but sometimes in life, things touched you and stained you in a way you could never recover from. They caused an irreversible shift in the way you saw the world around you, and in the way you dealt with the things that happened to you from that point on.

Sometimes, the path your journey veered on to led you to do things you’d never have considered previously.

And sometimes, in the hell you’d been delivered into, the end justified the means.

So I watched as he waged war, and I reached my hand up to lay gently against his cheek. “This is it, Kick. Can you feel it?”

He frowned. “Feel what?” he whispered, clearly confused at my obscure words.

“The moment where you know once and for all that there is nothing you could do that I wouldn’t accept,” I explained and waited for it to sink in.

“Fuck,” he murmured, “I don’t fuckin’ deserve you.”

“Yeah, you do,” I said as I curled my hand around his neck and pulled his face to mine. He willingly gave me his lips and I kissed him with all the love and passion I felt for him. When we ended the kiss, I said, “Now, I do believe you have some rings to buy.”

He grinned and raised a brow. “Oh, you think so, do you?”

It was my turn to raise a brow. “Questioning the woman who will be your wife one day soon is not a smart move.”

Chuckling, he agreed. “You have me there, sweetheart. I learnt a long time ago that questioning the woman I love isn’t a smart move.”

“When was that?”

“I was seventeen at the time. It was the day I asked you to the senior dance, and you said no because I’d questioned a decision of yours to stand up for Joe Jensen the day before. You practically held me to ransom over that fuckin’ dance, and in the end I had to backtrack on everything I’d said about that dickhead and pretend I fuckin’ liked him to get you to agree to go with me.”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “I thought you only asked me to that dance because you had no one else to go with.”

His eyes turned soft. “No, baby, I asked you because I really wanted to take you. I wouldn’t have become friends with fuckin’ Joe Jensen if I didn’t have to.”

My ribs might have been in pure agony and my body and mind might have been exhausted, but this new knowledge buzzed through me, causing extreme happiness to settle in me.

Kick Hanson had loved me since he was seventeen, and he still loved me eighteen years later.

***

I slept for most of the day. Kick looked after me, staying close by all day. At four that afternoon, Mum and Julie came to visit. I’d been awake for about half an hour then so it turned out to be perfect timing.

“God, Evie, don’t give us a scare like that again!” Julie said, her face a mask of worry. She’d brought flowers with her and arranged them in a vase I’d sent Kick to find. Placing the vase on the bedside table next to me, she bent and gave me an awkward kiss on my forehead. She still wasn’t big on public displays of affection, and I figured a kiss was hard for her, but I appreciated the gesture, particularly seeing as though she couldn’t hug me.