Page 81 of Far from Destined

“I need to tell your mama a few things first. But, Joshua? I’d love to be your family.”

“I’ll help you make it happen. You, me, and the cats.” He paused. “But I want you to be family, and not just because of the cats. Because I love you, too.”

That did it. Tears fell down my cheeks, and I held Joshua close, rocking him back to sleep as the others around us wiped their faces.

Even Cross wiped his face, his big beard shaking as he let out a sigh.

“That kid is breaking our hearts,” Prior said, rubbing his chest.

“Tell me about it,” I whispered.

I hadn’t meant to fall for a family, but here I was, waiting to see the woman that I loved, and holding the kid that I thought of as my own.

I just hoped that Dakota hadn’t been scared off by everything that’d happened. Because I knew how she was. Dakota would build up a wall and try to push everyone away.

But I’d do my damnedest to make sure she didn’t do that to me.

Because I loved Dakota Bristol.

And I would do everything I could to make sure she understood that I wasn’t going anywhere.

Chapter 20

Dakota

I leanedback against the pillow and moaned. I was finally alone. The detectives, the nurses, and the rest of the staff had finally left to give me some time to sleep. Only I couldn’t. I wanted to see Joshua. Macon. I wanted to see the family I’d made.

And it scared me to even think that. But I wanted Macon near me.

I couldn’t believe I’d been shot. A bullet had pierced my flesh, had torn through my calf muscle, but at least it hadn’t damaged anything too vital. I would be left with a scar, and with physical therapy, hopefully, I’d be able to walk as if nothing had happened. But it would take time.

And I would use all of that time and more.

Because that meant I was here. I wasn’t gone. I hadn’t left my son. I hadn’t left Macon.

There was a tap at the door, and I looked up, my heart racing just a bit.

“Can we come in?” Macon asked, that deep voice going straight through me.

I nodded, tears pricking my eyes at just the sound of his voice. “Please,” I said, realizing afterward that he couldn’t see me nod.

He opened the door fully, and I knew who else was here.

Macon stood there, Joshua in his arms, my little boy leaning on him as if he had been doing it his entire life rather than just the short time we had known Macon.

It had been over a year of having the man in our lives, far longer than my brain even let me admit sometimes. Because Macon had healed since his gunshot wound and was perfectly fine fighting and acting as if nothing was wrong.

I knew he still had nightmares, like I probably would for the rest of my life.

But we were safe—all of us.

And Adam would never hurt us again.

“Baby,” I whispered.

“Mommy,” Joshua said, his voice small, sounding so much younger than usual.

I held out a hand and then patted the place next to me. I had already scooted over in anticipation of him coming into the room.