Chapter 8
Sentencing was two weeks later.
Ethan got life without the possibility of parole, plus 40 years for all the other charges, to be served consecutively. He’d die in prison.
Carol got 12 years, with credit for time served, the judge telling her she was lucky she’d cooperated, that she’d have gotten life too if she hadn’t testified.
They led them away for the last time, and I didn’t even look at them.
I walked out of the courthouse into the bright Texas sun, Jake beside me, Maria waiting by the car with a big smile on her face.
Agent Miller pulled me aside before I left, her hand outstretched.
“Good work,” she said. “Your dad would be proud.”
I drove back to the mansion, the windows down, the warm wind blowing through my hair, and for the first time since dad died, the house didn’t feel like a prison.
It felt like home.
That night, I made dinner for Jake and Maria, the three of us sitting at the big dining room table, laughing and talking like we’d known each other forever.
After Maria went to bed—she’d moved into the guest wing, taking over as housekeeper, saying she wanted to help me take care of the place the way she’d taken care of dad—Jake and I sat on the back porch, watching the fireflies dance over the pool.
“Your contract is up next week,” I said, my voice quiet, picking at a loose thread on my jeans.
He nodded, his face unreadable.
“I know.”
I took a deep breath, my heart hammering in my chest.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I said. “Not just as a bodyguard. I want you to stay. For me.”
He turned to look at me, his storm-cloud eyes soft, and reached over, brushing a strand of hair off my face.
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he said.
May you like
He leaned in, his lips soft against mine, the kiss gentle and sure, like he’d been waiting just as long as I had.
The stars were bright above us, the crickets chirping in the grass, and for the first time in my life, I felt completely, totally safe.
