Then he hit a button and put it to his ear opposite Clarisse.

She pressed closer, her hand trailing down his forearm until it curled around his.

His curled back so tight it hurt.

She didn’t make a peep.

“Aunt Debbie?” he asked and Clarisse stared at his profile.

Then he said softly, “Yeah, I got news.”

Clarisse pressed even closer.

And when she did, Fin’s hand got even tighter.

Then she closed her eyes and listened.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Bicky and Bickrum McBickerson

Three weeks later…

When Mike’s foot hit the top of the stairs, he heard it.

He turned in the direction he was going anyway and moved down the hall to the double doors.

He opened one and took one step in.

“Seriously?” Jerra asked, standing by the bed, hands on her hips, face ticked off.

“I swear to God, if I have to lie in this bed another f**king day I’m gonna open fire!” Dusty shouted.

Layla, lying in bed with Dusty, woofed.

“Angel, shut it,” Mike ordered from his place standing inside the door and it was good he didn’t enter further because her head whipped his direction and even most a room away he could feel the heat from her narrowed gaze.

“Did you say ‘shut it’?” she asked with a deceptively soft voice.

“You got a hole in your chest,” he reminded her.

“It’s healing,” she fired back.

“And one in your leg,” he went on.

“That’s healing too!” she snapped.

“You know, it would really suck if you survived an attack from a psycho teenager on a rampage only to get strangled by your best friend,” Jerra observed.

“Ugh!” Dusty grunted then flopped back on the pillows and Mike felt his body start at her forceful actions even as he saw Jerra’s do the same and her hands come up like she could have gotten in there fast enough to cushion the fall.

“I got this, Jerra,” Mike muttered and she looked to him, wiped the concerned look off her face, replaced it with bogus attitude then she strutted to the door.

And she did this inviting, “Have at it. She seems to obey you.”

“I don’t obey! He’s an alpha! It’s just that I don’t have any choice!” Dusty shouted to her back.

With all due haste and without a word, Jerra left the room and closed the door.

Mike walked to the foot of the bed.

Then he said quietly, “Sweetheart, you gotta calm down.”

“Can I go lie on the couch downstairs without you carrying me?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.

Her eyes got squinty.

“For six hours, a lot of people who love you, including your bitch of a sister, were terrified outta their brains for you,” Mike reminded her softly and her eyes stopped being squinty and her face gentled.

Then she whispered, “I’m going nuts up here, Mike.”

“And you said you were goin’ nuts in the hospital so I brought you home. Now you’re goin’ nuts here. You gotta take it easy, Angel. Your leg is totally f**ked up and you got a hole through your f**kin’ chest. Docs say you’ll have a complete recovery but not if you f**k it up.”

She held his eyes then flopped back on the mound of pillows again.

Mike walked around the bed, put a knee into it then put a fist on either side of her h*ps and his face close to hers.

Her eyes came to his.

“And stop movin’ in that jerky way. It scares the shit outta me each time you do it thinkin’ you’re gonna pull something, tear something or rupture something. That f**kwad nicked an artery and he blew a f**kin’ hole through your chest. I saw them load you, covered in blood and unconscious, into the back of an ambulance. This is not somethin’ I’ll ever forget and I sure as f**k don’t wanna relive it. Cut me some slack, yeah?”

She closed her eyes slowly, a shadow of pain for him that he had that memory drifting across her face.

Then she opened her eyes, lifted a hand and curled it along his jaw as she whispered, “Yeah.”

“You gonna quit bein’ a pain in the ass?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she repeated.

“You gonna marry me?”

She blinked.

Then she whispered, “What?”

Mike shifted so he was sitting with a hip pressed light to hers and her hand at his jaw dropped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring.

Then he lifted her left hand and slid the diamond on her ring finger.

When he looked at her face, her eyes were on the ring and they were bright.

“You get fightin’ fit, this shit goes into overdrive. Married by end of summer, you pregnant by fall. You with me?”

Her eyes moved from the ring to him.

Then she nodded as one tear slid down her cheek.

Then she asked what he thought, considering the moment, was bizarrely, “Will Ryker be off house arrest by then?”

“I don’t know,” Mike answered.

“If he isn’t, we have to do it in his front yard so at least he can watch from the windows.”

Mike’s lips twitched and his hand moved to curl around the one of Dusty’s bearing his ring.

But he did this denying her. “We’re not gettin’ married in Ryker’s front yard. This is your first and only wedding. We’re doin’ it up big. You got your girl here, use her wisely. Sort that shit out. It’ll give you somethin’ to do other than bitch.”

She looked contrite and used her free hand to dash away the wetness caused by her single tear.

Then she muttered, “Sorry I’ve been bitching.”

“You’re active. Now you’re forced to be inactive. If it was me laid up, I’d probably be a pain in the ass too.”

She grinned and f**k, f**k, he loved it when she grinned.

Then her grin died and she whispered, “Sorry me being stupid scared the shit outta you.”

“You’re forgiven if you don’t it again.”

“I’ll act like I’m crystal.”

“I’d be obliged.”

She grinned again.

Then her hand squeezed his, her eyes got bright again and she breathed, “We’re getting married.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m marrying Jonathan Michael Haines, the first boy I ever loved.”

Mike’s lips twitched and he repeated, “Yeah.”

She held his eyes and she whispered, “I’m marrying you, Mike Haines.”

Mike leaned in and, his lips against hers, he whispered another, “Yeah.”