End With A Bang (Slap/Bang Duet #2)

27. Bang

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Bang

Sever was an abstract sunflower, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Outside the canvas, Ivy stood in her pink bikini, hands cupped over her ears. “Holy melodrama, Batman. Will you quit that? It’s hurting my ears.”

He closed his mouth, but still heard the screams, though they’d been shortened to quick, panicked pulses.

“Also, you as a flower? Not your best look. You’re all... brush strokes.”

“But I understand art now, love.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s why you’re screaming.”

“I’m not screaming anymore.” Eek! “Was that me?”

Ivy listened for the next one. Eek! “Weird.”

“What is that noise?”

“I don’t know, just come out of there and we’ll deal with it, okay?” She extended her hand. He took it, and stepped through the threshold of the canvas.

The pulsing screams turned to mechanical beeps, and Sever’s groggy head made sense of it: A heart rate monitor.

He was in a hospital bed. He’d been shot. There was a bandage on his chest. He was alive.

He could move his feet, too. All parts in working order. Definite plus.

With a glance at the darkened windows, however, he wondered if his eyes or brain had been damaged: Ivy was asleep, her head resting on the shoulder of his bodyguard, who sat beside his butler. The two men were wide awake, hurriedly knitting from the same hot pink ball of yarn.

“Will I bust anything if I laugh?”

“Sever,” Terrell said, while Vikram said, “You’re awake.”

Ivy was roused by movement. At the sight of him, she seemed to swell up with happiness, but then she notched it down. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said weakly.

She got out of her chair, straightened her sweater, and tentatively approached his bedside.

“We’ll come back later,” Vikram said, moving a chair to his bedside.

Terrell paused on his way out, and with barely restrained emotion, said, “Glad you’re okay, man.”

As they left, Sever frowned at Ivy. “What was that all about?”

Ivy sat down. “Terrell feels really guilty about what happened.”

“I meant...” he cleared his rusty throat, “the knitting.”

“Oh.” She chuckled and pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Vik bet Terrell he couldn’t learn in one day. It’s been three, and now they’re having knitting races. They’re onto capelets, I think.”

He laughed. It hurt.

“Ooh.” She touched his chest, near his bandage. “Sorry. Don’t laugh.”

He covered her hand with his. “Why are you here?”

“That’s a silly question.”

“Is it?”

She traced little circles over his heart. “Uh-huh.”

He let her do that for a while. It was comforting. “Have I really been out for three whole days?”

“There were a couple of surgeries. To get the bullet out. Half an inch to the left, it would have been your heart.” Her eyes welled, and he noticed how red-rimmed they were. Had she been crying over him, or...

“Is Jason all right?” He was struck with unexpected fear.

She looked down. “Yeah. He’s fine. It got a little hairy, he spent the first few hours at the police station. Because of, um...”

“Ophelia.”

She nodded. “Who was not your daughter. We just got the tests back this afternoon.”

Sever was deeply relieved to hear it, but she was still someone’s daughter. Probably Aidan’s. It would have been easy for him to switch their masks, what with Sever being unconscious. And all that time, poor, crazy Dez thought Sever was her dark knight, when all he’d done was pass out in a sodding bathtub.

“Anyway, Jason was cleared. It was obviously self-defense. Plus they found these journals at her apartment... very freaky. She had this elaborate plan of attack set for a specific date: the tenth anniversary of her mother’s death.”

Which would be coming up soon. “Bloody hell.” He had honestly thought Kara Bennett wasn’t a threat—yes, she was suspiciously invested in their relationship and his crimes, yes, she’d changed her name, but there were several reasons a person would do that. He didn’t take her seriously.

He would never doubt Ivy’s instinct ever again. Given the chance.

“We talked, though. Jason and I. We’re not gonna be best buds any time soon, but I think we’re kinda square now, what with him almost shooting me in the face.”

It was charming, the way she could reframe even the most horrid events as lighthearted farce. “I’m glad you’re not enemies.”

“You’re not enemies, either,” she said.

He scoffed, raised a brow.

“You took a bullet for him, Sever. I would consider the cosmic scales balanced. I know he does.”

He shook his head in awe. “He’s a better man than I.”

“No, he’s not,” she whispered, bit her lip, and his still-intact heart fluttered.

Or, more scientifically, it was beating a bit faster, according to the monitor.

He squinted at her. “Did you?—?”

“Oh,” she said, clearly stalling, “We hired a publicist. I hope you don’t mind. There’s kind of a media frenzy going on.”

“Right... Yes. That’s what they’re for. Damage control, and all of that. Did you tell me you love me or did I dream it?”

She smiled. “You didn’t dream it.”

“But... that was just because you thought I was dying. Right?”

Her eyes met his. “No.”

“Help me out here, kitten, I’m a little foggy. Hooked up to machines and drips and morphine or somesuch wonderful drug... What’s that mean to you?”

“It means...” she let her green-eyed gaze slide around the room, “Life is short. Time is precious. It means I don’t have to kayak through the Amazon or learn to belly dance in Marrakesh to find myself. I know who I am, and where I want to be. And that’s with you.”

“I’m still dying, aren’t I? They found a tumor.”

“Nope,” she said. “Your doctor says you’ll be back on your feet in a few days. But no strenuous activity for six weeks.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

She nodded, using her flirty lips when she answered, “I’m afraid so.”

Mesmerized, he said, “Will you marry me?”

“Never.” She was smiling.

“Move in with me?”

“Cool your jets, mister.” She sat up straight. “I think we both have a few things to take care of first.”

“No, I’m ready, really. Can’t think of anything.”

She smirked. “I’ll make you a checklist.”

“And when I’ve checked it all off...?”

“We start over. In six weeks, you take me out on a real date. We go dutch, and I choose the venue.”

He tried not to grin from ear to ear, really he did. “I accept these terms and conditions.”

“Good,” she said. “‘Cause you really didn’t have a choice.”

She was so beautiful. “Do me one favor. I am in a hospital bed, that grants me one favor, right?”

“Depends what it is...”

“Nothing naughty,” he promised, and tapped his earlobe. “I’m not sure I heard you the first time.”

With a sly grin, she moved close to his ear, and he felt her breath on his skin as she whispered, “I’m in love with you, Sever Mark.”

He sucked in a breath, felt his cock throb. “Six weeks.” He exhaled hotly. “Yeah. Don’t do that again.”

She giggled.