His fingers came up and cupped my cheek tenderly. When I went to take a step backwards, to free myself from his gentle touch, he followed. Matched me step for step, until my back pressed against the bark of the Cherry Tree. We stood under its heavily laden boughs, the scent of the cherry blossoms surrounding us, and stared at each other. His thumb stroking my jaw, then down my neck and back up again, as his palm held my cheek.
"Do you want to do this? he asked and I frowned in confusion. "Go after McLaren and every one of the pieces of shit he has dealt with over the decade before Rick's death?"
I sucked in a breath of air at his firm words. Pierce didn't sugar-coat things. He never called 'that night' anything other than what it was; Rick's murder, Rick's death, the night Rick was killed. He said Rick's name as though Rick had a right to be remembered. He never denied me the right to remember my husband either.
At one time I would have wanted that connection. Right now a little distance from my criminal husband wouldn't have gone astray. But Pierce was correct in this. Breaking it down to what it was. Going after McLaren and every one of the pieces of shit he has dealt with over the decade before Rick's death. I needed to focus on that. Not the burgeoning feelings I had for the man before me. Oh, I was sure we'd investigate what we felt for each other further, the desire to do so was too great, and the knowledge that life was indeed short made that hunger more urgent.
But, there was more to be thinking of than our lust. There was Daisy. And Ben and Abi. Adam, Eva and Nick. Even Genevieve and the Jaguar driving Dominic. They were all connected, all here because I was here. And I was here because I stole a ledger from Roan McLaren, with the express intention of bringing the drug lord to his knees.
I'd failed all those years ago and the risk hadn't diminished since, only grown. There were simply more innocents to protect now, than just Daisy and myself.
I'd made the decision when Pierce had walked out to me on the swing, right here under the Cherry Tree. I'd made that god-awful decision, knowing the consequences, and being unable to turn my back on them. I wanted to run. I wanted to grab my daughter, hold her close, and run like the wind.
But would it ever be enough? Could I keep her safe forever?
I stared into the steady, deep espresso coloured eyes before me, saw the concern etched on Ryan's face. Saw his need to protect me and my daughter. Saw his hunger, his desire for me. He didn't hide it, just like he didn't hide the fact that I needed to consider all outcomes of my decision.
Including what handing over that ledger would mean legally.
I supposed most cops wouldn't be so quick to point this out to a potential witness with a goldmine of information that could nail their perp to the wall. But Ryan Pierce was not like most cops.
"Marie?" he said, after too long a time had passed. "What's it going to be? Your choice. Whatever you decide I'll back. Babe, I will put myself out there to make you safe. No matter what."
The surety of his words, the staunch set of his back and shoulders, the determined and committed look on his gorgeous face. It all told me one thing.
Ryan Pierce would sacrifice his world as he knew it, even his life, for me. For me and my daughter. The realisation made me sway on my feet. Pierce saw the movement and swept in closer to wrap an arm around my frame and hold me up. Always offering that support. Always keen to touch and hold. To keep me safe.
From the day he walked into my office, even though neither of us realised it at the time, Pierce had been trying to keep me safe. Despite his job. Despite the justice he sought for those who'd been harmed by McLaren. Despite the fact he hadn't quite realised just how entrenched in that filthy world I'd actually been.
"I want to do this," I said, sounding out each word as it left my lips. Tasting the truth on them. Feeling the increase in my heartbeat as each progressively dangerous syllable spilled over my tongue.
The consequences of my actions were enormous. A picture of my daughter's face kept flashing in my mind, superimposed with Rick's blank stare, McLaren's evil grin, and those friendly, accepting smiles of the people congregating inside the house on this backyard.
"Are you sure?" Pierce asked, holding me tightly, letting me know through his touch that he was right there.
I nodded. I was sure. Maybe this time it would work. I couldn't save Rick. He was well and truly gone now, in more ways than one. But I might just be able to save us and our friends, and anyone else who crossed McLaren and didn't deserve to.
Pierce's fingers stroked softly over my cheeks, across my jaw, then both hands cupped behind my ears, holding my face tipped up to his.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered, reverently. "Inside and out."