The Killer's New Wife

Turned out, Ewan was rich. Stupidly rich, actually. Unlike most of the mafia guys, he invested his cash, and even paid taxes when necessary, though he had a very creative accountant. We were set for life, assuming the markets didn’t bottom out, which was always possible.

We were happy and comfortable, and I didn’t want to go back.

“What did you say?” I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

He looked at me like I was crazy. “I told him to fuck off,” he said and laughed. “Why the hell would we go back?”

Relief flooded through me. “I thought you might miss it.”

“Hell, no,” he said. “Maybe I miss the excitement, but I can get that here with you if I need it. No, Tara, I’m not going back to that life, not now, not ever.”

I sighed and he leaned over to kiss me. I kissed him back, and held him there, wanting to feel his lips. I was scared for a second that I’d lose him all over, and if he asked me to go back to Philly with him, I knew I’d say yes. Even if that would cost me so much.

“I’m glad you decided to stay,” I said.

“Please, you’d hate me if I went back,” he said. “Anyway, Dean’s fine. He’s got the family under control. The war with the Healys is still burning up, but he thinks he can make some progress now that the old man’s out of the way.”

“Good for him, I guess.” I shrugged a little bit. “None of that matters anymore.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he said, and put a hand on my belly. “When the baby comes, I’m all yours. You know that?”

“Of course,” I said. “I always knew it.”

Baxter barked, then Maybe joined in. Ewan shouted at them and they ran in circles together. I laughed as Ewan got up to throw a tennis ball for them, and watched as they wrestled together in the leaves.

This was heaven and home. I couldn’t have asked for more, and soon we’d fill this house with babies, as many babies as he’d give me. Philadelphia was across the country, and we’d never go back, no matter how much our past tried to pull us back in.

Ewan turned to me and grinned. “Let’s go inside,” he said. “I’m starved.”

“You’re always starved.” He helped me to my feet. “But if you’re cooking, I’m eating.”

He kissed me on the cheek, and we headed in together, the dogs running around at our feet.