36. Elijah

Istood in the parking lot of the local police station and watched Luke be examined by the paramedics. He wore one of those Mylar emergency blankets wrapped around his shoulders, and whatever he was saying to the medical crew had them laughing while they checked his vitals. In the end, he'd been extremely lucky—walking out of there tired, sore, a little hungry.

But he was alive and that was all that mattered.

I'd fired off a series of texts to Foster, Ripley and Sylvester. Sent an urgent message to Preston and personally called Luke's sister, Harriet, who burst into tears when she heard the news. Grady Holt had been carted away, as had the man who'd run off. They'd found him a mile down the road. We still had plenty of questions to answer, most importantly—how much did Senator Wallace know about his actions and had she signed off on any of this?

Even if she hadn't, Nora's words still rang in my head. Violence is a choice too. Some of it obvious, bloody. Some of it much more subtle. It dresses up in fancy clothes and pretends to be on your side, pretends to care about your concerns when it's really only out for itself.

Every piece of this—Lincoln's blackmail practices, Rosamund's election fraud, Grady's dogged pursuit—exposed Cape Avalon's dark underbelly in a way that sent an uneasy shiver down my spine. But something told me Luke was going to be changing that.

My phone rang in my hand. Foster, of course. I thought about Christopher, the earnest look on his face while he comforted me on his couch only a few days ago.

You don't have to save us. After Dad left, we saved ourselves.

In so many ways, turning my back on the career that had brought me much needed stability was the hardest thing I'd ever done. Scarier, probably, than bungee jumping the way Luke loved to do. I wasn't naive enough to think this next part would be easy or free of regrets.

Luke's head turned and his eyes sought mine from across the parking lot. He beamed a charming smile my way that warmed me from the inside out.

No, this next part wouldn't be easy. But being with Luke would make it a hell of a lot more fun.

"Hello, sir," I said. "I'm looking at Lucas Beaumont right now, upright and mostly okay aside from a few bumps and bruises. Grady Holt, Senator Wallace's chief of staff, was taken into custody. Law enforcement has everything I discovered so I'm sure they'll fill you in on the whole story."

There was a long pause on Foster's end. "Yes, they've…they've been in touch. Of course, we're happy to hear the client is safe and you are as well. I just got off the phone with Preston and Kenneth, who will be alerting the media."

I didn't reply. Merely kept my gaze trained on Luke, who was strolling my way with an expression of pure delight on his handsome face.

"You did good work, Knight," Foster grumbled. "I know you know that. Just like you also know that I have to fire you."

The words sliced through my chest. But then Luke reached me, tangling our fingers together and softening the blow.

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Unless…" There was another long pause. "Unless you've ended that romantic relationship you told me about?"

Luke brought my hand to his lips. Kissed every knuckle.

"That's not an option for me," I said, starting to smile.

He cleared his throat. "Then I hope it was all worth it."

"He is," I said, and hung up the phone, pulling Luke against me as we stood beneath the golden sunlight. "Let's go get you some food. I've got a place in mind."

One eyebrow winged up. "Like a date?"

"If you're good," I said, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

"But I'm never good."

I chuckled, twisting at the waist to reach inside the open window of my car. "This was an act of delusional hope at the time, but I brought you a change of clothes. They'll be a little big on you, but…"

Luke opened the bag and gasped. "So you do own basketball shorts."

I tugged him even closer, pressing my nose to the crook of his neck and inhaling. "I never said I didn't. You assumed, Lucas."

Laughter rumbled from the center of his chest. "I'm sorry, but your exact words were ‘I don't own a single comfortable item of clothing. Relaxation is an impossibility when your name is Elijah "Fun Should Be Illegal" Knight.'"

I gave a playful growl and bit down on his ear. He laughed and tried to squirm away, but I only locked my arms tighter. "Such a fucking smartass. I just rescued you and I'm still getting that mouth of yours."

His response was to kiss me, for longer and harder than his bruised lips could probably allow. He pulled back with a wince. I caught his chin with my fingers, tipping it so I could examine his wounds up close.

"Was it Grady who did this to you?" I asked softly.

"No, but that didn't mean it was any less satisfying to watch you punch his fucking lights out," he said. "It was one of the guys he hired. I'm not positive, but sounds like the people who followed us outside of the Shipwreck and the people who ran us off the road, took our pictures, sent those emails… It was likely those same guys. I got the impression Grady thought they'd done a sloppy job."

Sloppy or not, the knowledge that someone had put their hands on Luke was enough to send me into a frenzy. It must have been obvious, because he reached up and slid his palm against mine where I cupped his face.

"I'm okay, Elijah," he said. "More than okay. I'm relieved, I'm overjoyed, I'm euphoric and so damn grateful I could cry. I thought I was gonna die in there."

All the air left my lungs. "Luke," I whispered. "That's…" I noticed the bandages around both wrists. "Wait, what happened here?"

"It turns out, I didn't have to worry about Grady ending my life over that flash drive full of Rosamund's secrets. But he did threaten to kill you if I didn't cooperate and I…I didn't handle it very well. Tried to lunge for him and ended up cutting myself on the metal cuffs."

I pulled him back into me for another hug, full of empathy for what he'd been through. "When I walked outside that morning, when you were gone, when I realized…"

My throat closed up and I couldn't finish.

"No one ever told me it would be this way," he murmured, repeating my words from our night together. "I'll never forget the moment you walked into that bathroom to rescue me. No matter what Grady said, I didn't think I would ever see you again, Elijah."

We held each other in a comfortable silence for another minute, the joy coursing through my body so different from the despair I'd felt the morning he was taken, when I prowled up and down the shoreline in search of him.

"Hey, how did you find me anyway?" he asked.

"I found the flash drive. Remember the chandelier that almost fell on you the first day? It was hidden in that ceiling panel."

Luke reared back to look at me. "Holy shit. You never believed that was an unlucky accident, did you?"

I raised a shoulder. "We'll never know for sure, but my guess is that after Lincoln stored the drive there, he didn't rehang the chandelier properly. Once I saw the files on there and put together what they meant, Grady seemed like the person Rosamund would trust the most with a secret as career-ending as fraud. It was definitely a risk, tailing him, but he led me right to you."

Luke nodded. "Grady spent most of his time in there trying to get me to disclose the location of the drive. Because, according to him, he and Rosamund had paid my father off for it. And then he didn't return it. Or maybe he returned a fake or decoy—who knows. Sounds like once they started with the threats, he implied it would go to the heir of TBG if anything bad happened to him."

"So that's why they were threatening you." I rubbed a hand along my jaw. "They genuinely believed you had it. Why would your dad tell them that?"

"No clue. Maybe the same mystery reason he left the company to me and not Preston."

Luke yawned suddenly, his shoulders slumping.

"Come on," I said, "let me get you some food. Then I'm taking you home, because Harriet's already planning a giant party at your house. Your sister cried when I called her and told her the good news."

"Thank you for doing that."

"No thanks necessary," I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Now get in the car so I can take you on a date."

Before he did, he quickly shucked the clothes he'd been kidnapped in. He yanked on the sweatshirt and shorts I brought, as well as the barely worn pair of flip-flops I dug out of my closet. The drive over was less than twenty minutes, but Luke was asleep, curled against the passenger door, before we were halfway down the road. He'd taken my hand and placed it in his lap. He gripped it tightly, even as he slept.

Meanwhile, I was fairly calm given I'd just lost my job, my career and the promotion that had been the focus of my life for the past six months. But Luke was safe. The threats against him had been extinguished and his sister was filling his house with the people he loved.

I understood now, even more, Christopher's message to me. There was no perfect way to survive in this world. I would never control every outcome, correct every mistake. Perfection wouldn't prevent the people I loved from getting hurt. It was loving them and being loved by them—the big, giant mess of it—more than being perfect that gave life meaning.

We pulled up at a roadside café and ate facing the ocean, sitting on top of a picnic table with our shoes kicked off and our feet warming in the early October sun. I had a lobster roll, dripping with warm butter, on crusty, crumbling bread. Luke inhaled not one but two grilled cheese sandwiches, then placed the paper basket of french fries in his lap.

He curled against my side, dropping his cheek to my shoulder. I cleaned my fingers with a napkin, then scratched the top of his head, feeling more alive in this moment of autumn sunlight and greasy food and cool ocean breeze than I had in years.

The beach in front of us was mostly empty, although a few happy dogs chased Frisbees and a couple of kids built sandcastles near the burned-out logs of an old bonfire.

"I spent five years at your father's side, most of that time here." I paused to press a kiss to the top of Luke's head. "I'm just now realizing that I've never really looked at the ocean before. When the sun hits it like that, it's like glitter on top of the waves."

Luke hummed under his breath. "After my mother died and was cremated, Preston and I tossed her ashes into the sea so she could be returned to us again and again, floating in the water that she loved so much. She believed the ocean to be the greatest gift the planet had given us, vast and full of uncharted mysteries. But also, comfortingly cyclical. The tides rise and fall, the waves curl then dissipate. It's endless. Persistent. It continued long before we got here and will continue long after we're gone."

He sat up, turning to face me fully on the picnic table. "Based on how I felt about my family, a lot of my friends thought that after I graduated and got that money, I was gonna fuck off as far away as I could. But that would have meant leaving Harriet and my nieces, which I'd never do." He smiled out at the ocean, face tinged with sadness. "And I'd never leave these waves. They were her home and they're mine too."

When he looked back at me, his body was loose, relaxed. "I hoped that you would come and rescue me, Elijah. But I wasn't sure if I deserved it."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a palm.

"I woke up in that bathroom, scared and alone and fully convinced I was going to die without ever getting to say these words to you. It made me realize how wrong I'd been, about so much. I'm so sorry, Elijah. I risked your job, your integrity, your life. You were right about everything: my ill-conceived revenge plan, the very real danger we were in. You were right about me."

He hooked his fingers through mine and squeezed. "I've spent most of my life running from the privileges of my family because I thought it would heal me, thought it would make the pain easier or erase the horrible memories. Showing the world that my dad was a monster will never change the past. He's gone, but I'm still here, and that means I should be doing more for this community that I love. That's the real revenge. It's…"

Luke paused, eyes searching while my heart lodged in my throat.

"It's what?" I asked.

He leaned in close and kissed me. "I heard what you said back there, to Grady," he whispered.

I blushed, my entire face going hot. You kidnapped the man I loved. "I meant"—I swallowed—"I meant every word."

His answering smile was so bright it reflected off the waves. "I love you too, Elijah Knight."

My heart cracked open, overwhelmed with the beauty of it all. I dropped my forehead against his with a long exhale. "Luke." I dragged my lips through his hair, along his temple, kissed a path along his jawline. "I love you," I whispered back. Kissed along the side of his throat. "I love you so much. Please…please don't ever get kidnapped again. I won't survive it."

He laughed softly. "I think that's one risky activity I can safely say I'll never do again. But I'm gonna need some bungee jump therapy, preferably soon, if you wanna join me."

"Can I say maybe?"

He leaned back, bewildered. "That wasn't an absolutely not."

I shook my head. "It wasn't, because I need to tell you something too. My boss fired me, just now, over the phone."

"Oh my god, really? Even after you rescued my ass?"

I grinned, scrubbing a hand down my face. "Yes. Even after I rescued your ass. As soon as I went after you, my job was over. I was told to stand down, let the professionals work. I refused." I sobered, held Luke's gaze. "Sitting in my apartment, doing nothing while you were in danger, when you'd been taken from me, was impossible. I couldn't do that, Luke. I wouldn't ever do that to you."

He blinked back tears. "But you'd still have a job if it wasn't for me. Let me talk to your boss. You, of all people, don't deserve this."

I grabbed his hand and kissed his palm. "I also told Foster we were together."

A giant grin sprang across Luke's face.

"I choose you. I choose us." I watched pure happiness ripple across his features. "I choose myself.And it's for the best, Luke. You were right about me too. I am living half a life. It's infuriating, realizing how much of my adulthood I've spent trying to prove to a father who isn't even here that I'm a good person. That I'm worthy, that I have value, that I'm better."

Luke grabbed my face, held it tenderly. "You're the worthiest person that I know. No one deserves to live a full, joyful life more than you."

"I might have to…get some whimsy."

He laughed and kissed me. "That can be arranged, sweetheart."