“Love you too, dude,” I choked out. “Get some rest.”

I shuffled quietly down the hallway, tears falling down my face until I was caught up in strong arms and carried into the bathroom.

“You okay, Ladybug?” Cody asked gently, wiping my cheeks with his thumbs.

“Yeah, just—Cam. Oh my God.”

“He’s gonna have a hard time,” he said with a nod. “But tonight he’s safe and loved, and he’s got Aunt Lily’s quilt wrapped around him, which we both know can heal a whole lot of shit.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “Ladybug, I haven’t taken my eyes off you all night,” he replied, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine. “Don’t know if I’ll ever let you and the kids outta my sight again.”

“We’re okay.”

“Thank Christ.”

“Thank Cameron too.”

“No shit,” he murmured, reaching down to grab the bottom of Cameron’s T-shirt that I was still wearing. “I don’t wanna have sex, Ladybug. But I need to check you out, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered back, raising my arms above my head so he could pull the shirt off.

“He didn’t hurt you?” he asked again for the twentieth time since he’d reached me.

“No, handsome. He didn’t hurt me, I promise.”

He nodded his head, then knelt down to pull off my shorts and underwear, pausing to run his fingers over the gauze on my knees. I hadn’t realized at the time, but I’d cut the hell out of them when I’d fallen out of the car and into the gravel.

Cody leaned his head against my belly and took a deep breath, while I ran my fingers gently through his hair.

“He touched your tits,” he spoke quietly, his voice barely noticeable over the sound of our heater blowing through the vents.

“Barely,” I answered. “It was disgusting, but it’s over.”

“He touched you.”

“Look at me,” I ordered, pulling his head back so I could meet his eyes. “It’s over. The man is dead and I’m right here with you. Safe and whole. Cecilia and Cam are in the next room, safe and whole. We’ve got a lot to be thankful for, handsome. Don’t waste time worrying about shit that doesn’t matter.”

“You gut me,” he whispered, reminding me of a time when he’d said those same words to me long ago.

“Why? Because I pretend to forget what’s happened to me?” I asked quietly.

“No, because you protected our children and then walked eight miles carrying a twelve-pound baby to get them to safety. You are by far the strongest woman I’ve ever met, and I am the luckiest man on the planet.”

I gave him a small smile as tears rolled down my face, then nodded once and replied dryly, “You really are.”

Epilogue

Farrah

Seventeen years later

“You get on the back of that bike and I will beat that little fucker to death,” Cameron growled as he and Cecilia walked through the front door. “End of.”

“You’re being stupid!” she screeched back. “We’ve known them forever!”

“I don’t give a fuck. You know how many club whores that boy has hit already?” He shook his head as he walked into the kitchen, where I was standing at the stove. “Hey, Ma.”

“You get the chips and beer I needed?” I asked as he came over and kissed my cheek.

“Yeah, the store was a fuckin’ madhouse. Everybody and their bitch mother were shoppin’ today. Where’s Casper and Lily?”

“Mom, tell Cam he’s being an idiot!” Cecilia whined, making my teeth grind.

“He probably knows more than I do,” I grumbled back, making Cameron smile.

“Errgh!”

“Go make sure the barbeque is on, would you?” I asked her, trying to defuse the fight before turning back to Cam.

“Cody took Lil for a ride. He better hurry up, people are going to start getting here soon.”

“Don’t count on it. Daddy’s little girl is gonna keep him out there for hours,” he said with a smile, helping me put groceries away.

“Not so little anymore, she’ll be twelve next week. You got her a present, right?”

“Of course,” he said offhandedly, making me smile.

“Can you go wake Gram up while I start this corn? She said she was laying down for a while before the craziness started.”

I paused in my corn shucking to watch him go, pride infusing my body. He’d grown up to be such a good man, and I liked to think that Cody and I had a little to do with that. When Cecilia was almost a year old and Cameron had started calling us Ma and Dad in an attempt to teach Cecilia the words, my heart had ached. When he’d continued calling us that long after she’d started talking, I’d felt complete. He was ours, no matter how we’d gotten him. Like I’d told the policemen seventeen years ago, Cameron was my son. He belonged to Cody and me.

A few years after Cecilia was born, Cody had bought us a house out in the country for the five of us—Cody, Cameron, Cecilia, Gram, and me. We’d known that Gram wouldn’t be able to get around on her own for much longer, and we’d both agreed that we wanted her with us. The house wasn’t huge or anything, but when we’d looked around, it had been the only one we’d agreed on. It was built in the 1920s and had a huge wraparound porch that I’d immediately filled with a porch swing and rockers. Three acres surrounded it, that Cody was able to build a big shop on.