The cop’s arms tensed and I winced. What if the bullet went through me and hit her?

Nothing happened.

The cop and I both stared at each other. I saw him pull the trigger a second time. Nothing.

The safety catch. The poor kid had probably never fired his gun since the academy. We both realized at the same time but I was a second faster. I lunged forward and punched him, then pulled the gun from his slack fingers and threw it away into the darkness.

Police sirens were wailing towards us. Erin took a second to finally unstrap the heels and pull them off her feet, then I grabbed her hand and we ran. I thought the fear would ease but the ice around my heart constricted, crushing it. The scene wouldn’t stop replaying in my head, the muzzle of the gun pointing right at Erin—

We ran down the alley and turned into another, water soaking our legs as we splashed through puddles. Another turn. Another. The wail of the sirens dropped away behind us….

We stumbled to a stop, both of us doubled over and panting. But before I’d even gotten my breath back, I was grabbing Erin and pushing her back against the wall. The fear had me, tightening in brutal, cold throbs until my whole chest ached. “You’re okay,” I panted, tracing my hands along her waist. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” I wasn’t asking so much as reassuring myself. But when she nodded, the relief buckled my knees. What’s wrong with me? I’d been in bad situations before, I’d even been in danger with her before—

But never like that. I’d never seen her life nearly snuffed out in a second before, saved by dumb luck. My hands moved up to her cheeks and I held her face between my hands. “You’re okay.” I kept repeating it, a mantra. “You’re okay.”

I’d almost lost her. And that moment was like a flash of lightning in the dark, lighting up everything that had been hiding in stark, clean detail.

I stood there panting, staring at her. She stared up at me, tired and shivering and brave and wonderful.

It was impossible. That part of me was broken, had been since I was a kid. But it had happened anyway. I didn’t just care for her or like her or want to protect her.

I was in love with her.

52. Erin

52

ERIN

Barefoot, I was much smaller than him and he hulked over me protectively, little jewels of rain falling from his wet hair. He cupped my face in his hands, panting, and I’d never felt so protected. But this was more than him wanting to look after me. This was way beyond lust. He looked helpless.

I understood because I felt the same way. I stared up at him, hoping…