Chapter Twenty-Six
Collin
Did the explosion kill me?
I rubbed my chest as I stared down at the angel in my bed. Perhaps it was all an illusion, a concussion. The possibility of this being heaven was derived from idiocy.
Demons didn’t go to Heaven.
The world didn’t like me that fucking much.
And yet…Karina was here. In my home.
In my bed.
After I shredded the last week, we’d spent together with a rusted, bloodied knife, my words sliced through her barrier of light, and I let the darkness seep in once more.
As anguish formed in her beautiful blue eyes, success was on the horizon.
Why did this success feel like I just lost the war?
What was the point of sitting on a throne when there was no one to sit beside you?
Because you were meant to be alone…quarantined away from happiness.
After I sent her away, I felt worthless. Then again, the only time I felt an ounce of worth was in her presence.
Why had I been so careless with the most precious thing to me?
You don’t deserve her.
I never had, which was why I had to let her go.
What the hell was wrong with me?
A whimper drew me out of my self-loathing thoughts, anchored down by the countless mistakes I’d made when it came to her.
She was wearing those yellow silk pajamas that made my cock weep. The last few hours had been a blur, a painful blur. There were so many things to do, so many phone calls to make and people to kill. The time to process wasn’t now. Now was the time to make my move, stake my claim.
So much to do.
And yet…my eyes wouldn’t move away from the woman in my bed.
When I returned about thirty minutes ago, I’d nearly shot Xander on sight for disobeying my orders. Hell, my bloodlust wasn’t even close to satisfied. Not tonight. Not after the venomous truth that fell from the Romano’s lips.
My man was instructed to stay in St. Louis for the next month to keep an eye on Karina, to make sure she was moving on and she was safe. I’d planned on staying away from her, no matter how much it would’ve tortured me. I’d suffered plenty of torture throughout my life; what was a little more?
I would run the empire, focus on baseball, and finally get the mafia into other spots—something Romano had been trying to do for years— and—my life would be bearable, just as it always had been. I would eat, sleep, breathe, kill until death finally found me. That was the fucking plan.
Until tonight.
I was equally pissed off and hopeful to find my man standing at the dock, waiting for me with a passive expression. Dread skated across my skin as I watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, her blonde hair splayed out on my pillow.
Did I want her here?
Yes.
Did I realize my idiotic mistake after being blown out of a window?
Yes.
Did this angel before me deserve to be dragged into my life of darkness because I wanted her there?
No.
How the fuck was she supposed to move on when she was in my bed?
She is where you want her. Take her.
I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as a deep, much needed sigh left my lungs.
I wouldn’t be the reason for darkness in her life.
The ache in my chest spread throughout my sore body, and I let out another unsteady exhale, clenching my jaw.
Xander had explained to me that she pulled a gun on him, and while he could have easily taken control of the situation, he said he would rather enjoy his hands being attached to his arms.
Smart man.
I would have ripped them from his limbs and mailed them back to his brother. Giftwrapped, no less.
When I asked where my angel was, Xander and Cam merely smirked at me. Three months ago, I would have chopped their smug little heads off…
Three months ago, those fuckers wouldn’t even be on the island.
Three months ago, I would have been able to keep an eye on Tony and obliterate Gwen’s plan.
Perhaps then, Tony would still be alive.
My brother.
My lip curled in disgust. Of course, the universe would make me share DNA with a pompous, egotistical buffoon.
As Karina rolled onto her side, I wondered if I would've actually tried to save him if I’d known the truth. If Ray Romano had told me years ago that I was his bastard son, would my loyalty come easier for me?
Would I have been with the Matthews Family in St. Louis and Chicago? Or would I have been in New York with Tony?
Would I have had to immerse myself in Gwen Davenport’s life to get Dean Connors to comply with Romano’s wishes?
A tug pulled in my chest.
Would I have been blinded by the light that was Karina Jones? Would I have been blessed to know her?
Fucking hell.
Karina stirred, her face tightening as she thrashed back and forth. She was often plagued by nightmares, ones detailing her assault. My jaw jumped as I watched her, balling my hands into fists in my pockets.
She would have to fight this battle on her own. No matter how much I wanted to save her, I would have to be the villain in this chapter as well.
It was said you shouldn’t wake someone up from a nightmare, Kevin Matthews being the number one expert on that subject.
The number of times I'd nearly killed that cock sucker were incalculable. One night, I had come close, stabbing him in the arm with one of my blades. I shook my head. I hadn’t checked on Kevin in some time. The men had orders to keep him fed.
I should have killed him months ago.
You never will. We both know that.
My muscles tightened, a dull pain sinking down my spine. Fuck. This was why I didn’t deal with explosions. They were messy, expensive, and so fucking painful. It was worth it, though.
Ray Romano was dead.
For good this time.
Long live the fucking king. What bullshit.
There was no way he could have survived that blast, unless he followed me, but he didn’t. My father—a growl slipped from me—was dead. The irony of it all…the devil himself brought to his knees in front of the reaper by flames.
If I allowed myself time to think, self-hatred would take over, and at least three people would be dead come sunrise. So complicated.
“Mmm, Col?”
That fucking sound.
More beautiful than a symphony.
She was dreaming about me. A lump formed in my throat as the urge to reach out and touch her intensified. My bloody hands didn’t deserve to touch something so exquisite, so merciful and kind. Her heart-shaped face was pinched like she was scared.
“I’m yours,” she whimpered, turning her head to the side, her legs shifting underneath the blanket. I held my breath, grinding my teeth as the organ in my chest began to beat faster.
That’s right, Angel. You are mine. I am so fucking sorry.
She gasped and shot up. The room was dim, and the fire she'd lit hours ago was near its end. I remained in the shadows, watching her. Thunder clapped outside in the distance. Chicago was about to get hit with one of the worst storms of the year, bringing in the dreaded cold front of winter.
Karina ran her hands through her hair, gripping it at the base of her scalp as she brought her knees up. “It was just a dream, just a dream,” she murmured.
“Seemed like a nightmare to me, angel.”
She jumped at my voice, her eyes meeting mine in the darkness. Silence stretched between us for a moment, which I was grateful for. I had said enough words to her in California.
Words I didn’t mean.
Words I thought I had to say.
“You're in my bed, Karina.”
She lifted her chin slightly, her sky-blue eyes shining. “It’s where I belong.”
Fuck.
I stepped forward and tried to ignore the gasp from her. I looked like shit. An explosion would do that to you.
“Col,” she breathed, scrambling out of bed and coming to me.
She didn’t hesitate to touch me, another thing I was grateful for.
She still wanted to touch me after the lies I fed her.
Her hands cupped my face, her eyes noting the tiny cuts and my shredded shirt. I didn’t bother changing on the plane.
The reminder of my father's death lingered on these clothes, and for some reason, I wanted to hold on to that a little longer.
My eyes held hers. “What were you dreaming about?”
“You.”
“I thought I sent you to St. Louis.”
Her hands dropped to my chest. “You should have taken me yourself.”
Infuriating.
Stubborn.
Mine.
All mine.
“You know damn well why I couldn’t do that,” I growled.
She stayed silent.
I stayed silent.
My lips crashed against hers in the next second, taking her by surprise. My hands grabbed her face to hold her where I wanted her as I ravaged her. She kissed me back, whimpering for me as her arms wrapped around my neck.
We both knew that if I took her back to her home, where her family was, where her life was, I wouldn’t even let her exit the goddamn plane.
“I wouldn’t have let you out of my arms, baby,” I hissed against her, my fingers weaving into her hair. She nodded against me, pulling me tighter, like she couldn’t get enough of me.
My tongue forced her mouth open.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
As we devoured each other, I walked her back towards the bed, stopping when the mattress hit the back of her legs. Yanking her head back, my mouth sought out her neck, her pulse fluttering underneath my lips. She moaned when my teeth grazed her skin.
“You drive me fucking crazy.” My voice was strained.
Her taste. Her smell. Her voice. Her laugh. Her mind. Her soul. Her fucking heart.
I kissed her once more, hard, before I let her fall back onto the bed.
She was a work of art…a light in this dark world of mine.
Her skin was flushed against the yellow silk, her blonde hair contrasting against the dark material of the bed. Her blue eyes reminded me of a summer’s sky, bright with the promise of never-ending happiness and everlasting warmth.
My dark soul yearned for her in a way I’d never thought possible.
She lifted her arms above her head, drawing my attention down to her peaked nipples and the sliver of her stomach that now showed. I stared down at her, waiting for reality to set back in. My logic was telling me I could be dead, because having my angel in my room, in my home, after all this time…