Wolfe
It was almost sunrise by the time I pulled up to her house.
It would be daylight soon, so my Range Rover would be easy for anyone who came close to spot, but I didn’t give a damn.
Come for me.
Come for me and see what happens.
I let myself in like I owned the place, even though I just owned the woman inside.
She stood in the entryway as if she’d been waiting for me since I’d told her I was on my way.
Her eyes were dead tired, and I noticed bruising on her face from where someone had hit her.
The bruising hadn’t been there before, growing over the hours that we’d been apart.
My instinct was to lose my shit all over again, but I knew she didn’t want to deal with my rage right now.
She released a heavy breath at the sight of me, the relief more powerful than the splash at the bottom of a waterfall.
Her eyes coated with a thin film of moisture before she blinked it back.
A vulnerability she’d never shown me before came through like the first rays of spring sun after a long winter.
I left all my anger at the door and moved into her.
She immediately grabbed on to me and squeezed, burying her face in my chest and taking a breath so big it almost sounded like a gasp.
My hand slid into the back of her hair, and I rested my lips on her forehead. I held her against me, my arm circled around her lower back, and I counted the beats of her heart as I felt them through my flesh. The quick tempo slowly faded, her heart going from a sprint to a trot and then to a walk.
I felt the peace I brought her in real time. The safety and security and the serenity.
“You killed him?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t hurt his family?”
“No.”
She pulled away and looked up at me, her beautiful face a color it shouldn’t be. “I’m so tired.”
“You should have slept while I was gone.”
“No way in hell would I be able to sleep without you.” She pulled her hands away from me and headed toward the stairs, wearing one of the long-sleeved shirts that I left here.
Those words might feel simple to someone else, but to me, they meant the world. The closeness that had grown between us had been exponential, especially today. I stared at her back as I watched her go.
She stopped at the bottom stair when she realized I wasn’t behind her. She stared at me like she knew I had something to say.
“I’m not doing this anymore.”
Her eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“Tell your father, or I will.” I didn’t care whether her father or her brother liked me, if they didn’t think I was good enough for her.
If they wanted to kill me, they were welcome to try.
But I wasn’t going to pretend Francesca Mancini wasn’t the most important person in my life.
That I wouldn’t bleed for her and die for her and burn this world to the fucking ground for her.
She continued to stare at me, one hand on the banister.
Now that the flames of my rage had been extinguished, nothing but exhaustion was left behind. I wanted to crawl into bed with her and sleep with her face next to mine, her thigh hiked over my hip.
But no matter how tired I was, I wouldn’t let this go. I stared her down until I got my answer.
She finally caved. “Okay.”