Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
S AINT
Emerald moving in with me made a liar out of me. I was trying to pretend that I wasn’t developing feelings. But everything about her is fucking perfect. Her quick mind, her sense of humor, and the way she can keep me on my toes or go blow to blow with me. I can’t wait to marry her. Which makes today all the worse.
The flat of my tongue runs over my teeth. It’s one thing to just forget. It’s another to be shown up by her goddamn ex.
I drag a hand through my hair and suck down a deep breath.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go. A better partner— fiancé —would have known that today is Emerald’s birthday. Would have planned some romantic bullshit date and swept her off her feet.
But not me.
Nope. I’ve fucked up .
Instead of planning something to blow all her other birthdays out of the water, I’m stuck scrambling to find something, anything, to make it special. This isn’t how I operate. This isn’t like me. I’m the man who’s on top of everything, five or ten moves ahead of everyone else. I don’t get blindsided.
But that’s not what’s spiking my blood pressure. It’s the fact Ronnie fucking Mainetto is sending Emerald red roses and a honey-colored teddy bear on her birthday, while I didn’t even get her a card. What the hell is he doing sending her flowers anyway? And a fucking teddy bear ? Really ?
Sure, they get on fine when they run into each other at the casino, but she said that whatever happened between them is water under the bridge. I glare at the vase on the kitchen counter where she put them after they were delivered. It’s a beautiful arrangement. But that’s not the point. The point is they’re from him, the man who tossed Emerald aside without even thinking about her feelings. The fucker who she was crying over in a parking lot, for fuck’s sake.
My teeth grind together the longer I stare at it.
Red. Fucking. Roses .
Of all the goddamn colors to send someone, he chose the one that makes my stomach churn and vision blur.
My fist balls tighter.
Red. The color that’s supposed to be reserved for romantic partners. Is that what he wants? He didn’t want her before, but now that I have her, he’s having second thoughts? The thought of Ronnie even touching Emerald again, of him hearing the way her laughter fills a space, of him listening to the sounds she makes when she comes, makes my stomach turn to lead.
Over my fucking dead body.
Or his.
Either way, he won’t get to touch her. Ever.
I suck down a deep breath, feeling my lip curl at the corner as I stare at the damn vase of flowers. “Fuck this.”
My fist knocks the vase over, smashing it into the counter. The sound of shattering glass doesn’t bother me. The house is empty, with the kids at school and Emerald out with Jacquetta and Nicki for a girls’ birthday brunch.
My boots crunch on the pieces of glass that have clattered to the ground as I sweep my hand through the remnant of the vase, not caring if the glass slices me or not.
The petals look like blood against the white counter stone, and I bite back my snarl as I let them fall beneath my feet.
I grab the bear, and it goes in the trash, along with what remains of the flowers and the goddamn birthday card with its long message about their good times together and how he hopes she’s happy.
Asshole.
That dark possessive thing inside me roars with satisfaction, and alongside it, the green monster smiles with satisfaction. I suck in an inhale and tuck my gun back into the waist of my pants.
If this is what it’s going to be like, then the world needs to know I’m not a man to fuck around with. If Ronnie wants her, he’ll have to take her from my corpse. Because Emerald is mine—and only mine.
I might not be sentimental like Ronnie. I might not be able to give her that same connection, but I’ll be damned if anyone else tries to fill in the gap I can’t.
The wild look in my eyes makes me pause as I pass the mirror in the hall. It’s not a look I’ve seen on my face before.
I narrow my gaze.
This is a problem.
This feeling that’s eating me alive.
This feeling that’s galloping through my body like a pack of wild horses.
Jealousy.
That’s what it is. Ronnie offers something I can’t. Some mental connection that’s so emotional and entwined with their past, I can’t compete with it. I’ll always lose.
I scrub my hand over my jaw before letting out a deep breath, trying to ground myself. But it doesn’t help. I’m worked up, and agitation tightens my body. I need a smoke, a drink, or a good fuck.
Or all of the above. With Emerald.
But that’ll have to wait until I get this shitty day over with. My phone vibrates with yet another message from Christian about urgent matters that need my attention, and I know I can’t avoid the casino anymore.
Ronnie better hope he doesn’t cross my path today because I won’t be held responsible for the fist he’ll eat if he does.
* * *
Arriving home from work later, I let the door bang open. And I stop mid-step as I come face-to-face with Emerald.
Her expression is stormy, her eyes narrowed. The bear, a wilting rose, and the card are clutched in her hand. “What in God’s name, Saint?”
“What?” I say with a casual shrug of my shoulders.
She holds the ruined gifts and stares at me. “What on earth is wrong with you?”
“Lots of things. But you already knew that.”
She follows me up the staircase to our bedroom. “Why did you throw these in the trash?”
“Why did you accept flowers from your ex?”
“It was a birthday present.”
“From your goddamn ex.”
As soon as she sets the crumpled birthday card on the dresser, I pull out my gun and shoot it to smithereens. Pop ! The honey-colored bear is fucking next. Two quick pops , and the stuffing litters the dresser top just like the card.
“Jesus! Can't you just find a human to kill and leave my bear alone? You don't like roses, bears, or being nice to kids at grocery stores. You're crazy, you know that?”
“Why is Ronnie sending you red goddamn roses? I didn’t realize you two were getting so cozy again. Something I should know?”
She blinks at me before her face screws up again. “ Excuse me ? You’re blaming me because you’re acting like a psycho?”
“Answer the question.”
“You first!” She gets louder when she gets angry. I don’t.
I turn to face her now, my shirt half undone. The sleeves are dotted with blood from an already shitty day turning worse. The muscle in my jaw ticks, and I narrow my eyes. “Why is Ronnie sending you flowers?” I repeat, a dangerous chill to my voice.
“Because it’s my birthday? Because he’s being nice? Because we’re friends?”
“Friends?” I bark out a laugh. “You’re not friends with exes, Emerald.”
“Well, I am.”
“The hell you are.”
“What on earth does that mean? Do you think I’d lie about what’s going on with him? I’m not you, Saint! I don’t lie to people.”
“Watch it, Emerald,” I warn, stepping toward her like a predator on the prowl.
“No, this isn’t okay!”
My nostrils flare as I glare down at her.
“You can’t just throw my stuff in the trash like this. They don’t mean what you clearly think they do. Ronnie and I are friends . Just because you’re being a grumpy jerk doesn’t mean I should pay the price.”
Something about her words slices into me. The green haze clouding my mind parts just slightly, and I swallow.
“They were just flowers. Jacquetta and Christian got me flowers as well. You going to throw those away too?”
“No,” I huff.
“Then what’s the problem with Ronnie’s?”
“Because they’re from him!” My voice booms around the room, and her eyes widen. “Because they’re from him , Emerald. A man who literally tossed you aside like trash! Do you know how hard it was to watch you deal with that? And now things are just what? Hunky-dory between you two?”
“What’s this really about, Saint?”
“It’s about the goddamn red roses your ex -boyfriend sent you.”
“ No , it’s not. ”
My hand balls into a fist. Why does she have to push this? Why does she have to prod and dig and keep going for the kill even when she knows what lies beneath isn’t pretty? “Fuck!” I drag my hand through my hair as I turn from her and pace. But ‘fuck’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“ Why , Saint?”
“Why, what?” I pause my pacing.
“Why did you do this? And be honest for once with me.”
The dig doesn’t go unnoticed. If anything, it cuts me at the knees. My hand scrubs at my jaw before I finally work up the courage. How has one woman managed to smash through everything the way Emerald has? How can I let her in to see me like this, knowing that all remains in me is some empty fucking pit?
“Fuck,” I hiss. I look her in the eyes. “Fine. You want honest? You want the goddamn truth? Fine!” I step toward her, watching as she backs up toward the bed.
I step forward.
She steps back.
“Because I can’t do that shit, Emerald. Because I can’t ever be the man who brings you flowers and a sappy as shit card for your birthday. I’m not capable of it. This is what you get. And that’s it.” My arms spread wide. “This is the man you’re going to marry. The physical stuff, I’ve got you. But if you want the emotional stuff, I can’t do it.”
She blinks at me shaking her head. “That’s a damn lie.”
“No, Emerald, it’s not. This is probably the most honest I’ve ever been with you.”
She sits on the side of the bed. “Why? Why can’t you give me that?”
I sigh. My body deflates slightly as the anger and jealousy dissipate. I drop to the bed beside her, hanging my head as my hand rubs my neck. “I don’t know any other way to be.”
“This all seems like a rather extreme reaction to red roses and a birthday teddy bear, don’t you think?” she says slowly.
A harsh laugh leaves me as I look up at her. “That…might have been more than just jealousy.”
“You don’t say,” she replies in a dry tone as she looks at the remains of the bear she’s clutching.
I shake my head. “It’s not important.”
“It is.”
“Please, Em…” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “Please, don’t push this.”
“That’s not how this works, Saint.”
“Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn?”
A small smile tilts her lips. “Because I love you, Saint. I care about you. Just explain it to me. Please?”
The softness of her smile soothes some of the heated fury within me, although bile burns my throat at the thought of peeling back my perfectly crafted shell. Of showing her even a glimpse of the man I am beneath it, scared and broken.
“When my parents…died, they used red roses at the funeral.” The words stick in my throat and feel like thorns tearing it raw, each word more painful than the last to grit out.
My mind can’t help wandering back to the day when I turned five—and my childhood fell apart, and I lost my innocence forever. Emerald doesn’t say anything, but her hand squeezes mine, so I tell her about the memories that won’t stop haunting my mind…
It’s my fifth birthday today, and I can hardly sit still. I tug on Mommy’s shirt and beg, “Can we go to the park please?”
“Sure we can, poppet,” she says with a smile, “but it’ll have to be later because we need to finish setting up for your party first.”
Daddy nods in agreement—he’s busy blowing up balloons while Mommy’s pinning the streamers on the wall.
“But I really want to go now…please, please, please?” I plead, my eyes wide and hopeful.
Mommy and Daddy exchange a look. Finally, Mommy smiles and says, “Alright, it is your birthday after all.”
“Yay!” I shout, jumping up and down with excitement.
I love the park—it has swings and slides and the big grassy field where I can run as fast as I like. The best bit is the hill that the slide’s on. Daddy and me lie sideways on the hill and then let ourselves roll down it. It always makes me giggle so much. Daddy taught me this as he’s really good at making up fun games.
Mommy makes a small picnic to take with us—peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and some of the cookies she baked this morning.
While she packs the basket, I imagine how I’ll soon be running across the grass, kicking my red ball as hard as I can, and watching it soar through the sky.
I hold Mommy’s hand as we walk out to the driveway, Daddy on the other side of me as he reaches down and ruffles my hair. The sun is shining bright, and I’m bouncing up and down with every step.
I climb up onto the backseat of the car, barely able to contain myself as we buckle up—my birthday is turning out just perfect. Mommy’s baked my favorite chocolate cake and iced it with double chocolate frosting, and then this afternoon, I’m going to have the most awesome party and get to open my presents. Today is going to be the best day ever.
I reach into my backpack to make sure my ball is there. My heart skips a beat. “Mommy, I forgot my ball!” I wail.
“It’s okay, poppet,” she says. “You can run back inside to get it.”
I scramble out of the car as Daddy presses the button that opens the garage door. As I pass Mommy’s window, I wave bye. “Bye, Mommy! Bye Daddy!”
Mommy giggles as she gives me an affectionate smile full of love. “You don’t need to say bye to us, honey—you’ll only be gone for a minute.”
Skipping through the garage, I go through the door that connects to the house. I can’t find my ball in my toy box, but then I remember I was playing with it in the den yesterday because it was raining outside.
Running to the room at the front of the house, I see it behind the couch. Scooping it up, I go to the window and hold it up proudly so that Daddy and Mommy can see that I’ve found it.
Daddy gives me a thumbs up, and Mommy gives me one of her beautiful beaming smiles.
A split second later, before I can move from the window, a car comes screeching around the corner and gunfire erupts.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The windows of Daddy’s car shatter.
Mommy and Daddy hurl back against their seats.
Panic erupts in me.
Dropping the ball, my little legs pump as fast as they can as they propel me back outside.
As I reach the driveway, all I can see is shattered glass and Mommy and Daddy lying deadly still in the car with their eyes wide open and blood everywhere.
My body automatically throws itself toward the car.
But a neighbor arrives and holds me back. I’m screaming and crying, trying to get back to Mommy and Daddy.
But I never see them alive ever again.
It’s my fault that my parents were in the driveway. If I hadn’t asked to go to the park, they wouldn’t have been in the driveway when the bad guy came—instead, they would have been safe in the kitchen at the back of house.
It’s all my fault…
And before I know it, the days have passed in a blur, and then I have to say goodbye to them at the cemetery. And it’s a goodbye that has to last forever.
I’m standing under the leaden skies which are threatening rain. My suit feels stiff and foreign around my five-year-old body.
In one hand is clutched a red rose, and I’m trying hard not to stab myself with its evil thorns, while my other hand grips the arm of my favorite honey-colored teddy bear.
Next to me is my uncle, but despite his presence, I’m completely bewildered by what’s going on around me.
I hear the prayers being said, but everything feels like it’s seeped in a thick fog. But this is my reality now.
Because my reality is that my mommy and daddy are dead.
And I’ve been left all alone in this world.
All because of what the adults keep calling a drive-by shooting.
People are swarmed around me—the family and the men my daddy worked with. I’m not sure exactly what Daddy did at work each day, but I think it’s why he and Mommy got shot.
I choke back my tears, trying to keep them at bay as the two expensive caskets are lowered into the black ground. I’ve managed to keep my tears back all morning—in the church, while people murmured words I scarcely heard, while memories of the people I love most in the whole wide world tumbled through my mind.
Because my uncle’s told me that it’s not okay to cry. He says we’re made men, whatever that means—I think it’s something to do with Daddy’s work. But I do know that I’m expected to be strong and brave.
The rain is falling now, heavy drops pelting down on top of us and turning the soil darker and muddier.
“Throw it onto the caskets,” my uncle commands with an impatient jerk of his chin toward the grave.
I throw the red rose and bear down to my mommy and daddy.
A rough laugh leaves my uncle. “You were supposed to throw just the flower, not the bear as well. What would your parents want with a teddy?”
I realize my mistake and fall to my knees upon the muddy ground and look down into the big gaping hole. “I have to get my teddy back!” I cry out.
“Too late for that,” he says, laughing again. “It’s gone forever.”
And then he sees the tears I can’t hold back any longer.
“Stop crying, you big baby. You can’t be crying over a dumb toy.”
I’m crying, but not about the teddy bear. It’s about my parents, of course. About the mommy and daddy I’ve lost forever and never going to get back. About the parents who’re never going to wake up again. About the two people I need the most…
After explaining this all to Emerald, I look down at my hands. “I see that moment in my dreams every damn night. Over and over again, the darkness just swallowing the rose, the bear, and…my parents. It’s like the darkness is lying in wait to swallow me whole too. That was the…”
I clear the emotion from my throat, trying to work past the way it’s choking me.
“That was the last time I cried. The last time I cared about anything like that. Veneti men aren’t weak—and that’s weakness.” I shake my head. “I lost my parents forever that day. It’s what makes me this emotionless and cold man. And it’s what makes me a great assassin.”
Finally, she knows. This should make it easier now. But the longer I stare at her, the more I can see the emotions battling in her mind.
“I get why you’re like this, Saint—and why the teddy bear is now another name scratched off your hit list, but…” She shakes her head. “No, no buts. I get it, and I appreciate you telling me so I can understand what’s going on with you.” She smiles at me, but for once, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I need to get ready for my shift.”
“Wait, you’re working on your birthday?”
“Just for a few hours. You didn’t say you had anything planned.”
“I, uh, do have something planned.” Another lie. “But we can do it later.” She nods before moving into the bathroom to shower and change.
I stare after her, unmoving. I rack my brain, trying to think of something that shows her I can do better than this for her birthday. Because if I don’t figure it out, don’t figure all my shit out, I know I’m going to lose her. My jaw tightens. That’s not happening until I’m six fucking feet under.
The drive from the house to the casino is quiet until I say goodbye to her as she gets out of my SUV, and the drive back is even worse as I’m left alone with my thoughts. I promised her something amazing when she gets back home. And it needs to be something that tops goddamn red roses and a fucking cutesy bear.
When I get back to the mansion, Milena suggests we all bake a birthday cake for Emerald.
“Do you think she’d like that?” I ask, completely unsure of what’s the right thing to do.
Milena nods, flashing a thumbs up. “Totally. Having something homemade is way better than store bought.”
I rub the back of my neck, staring at the recipe she printed twenty minutes ago.
Jaspar and Giulietta stand on footstools beside me, looking over the paper like they can read more than a handful of the words.
“What else?”
“The cake is only step one,” Milena replies. “We all made Emerald cards today. You can make one too. She’ll love it.”
“I can help!” Giulietta pats my hand as if to reassure me that I’m not alone, and I nod slowly. At least with the help of the kids, maybe I won’t completely suck at this.
“Okay. You’re sure? This isn’t…too cheesy?”
“Nope. Emerald loves this stuff,” Milena carries on. “It’s romantic, and everyone wants to be romanced. Plus, I’m sure you already got her an amazing present.”
“Uh, well, actually…”
Milena sighs, muttering under her breath about having to do everything and shows me her phone screen. A necklace with a small glittering diamond pendant in the shape of a chess queen fills the screen. “If you order it now, it’ll be here in a couple days. Just tell her it’s coming in the mail, so that’s why you haven’t got it already.”
That doesn’t really seem to solve the problem I’m having. It’s not the gifts. It’s the other shit. The touchy feely crap that seems to come so naturally to them all. I don’t know how to let someone in like they clearly do. I let out a heavy sigh.
“You just need to tell her she’s as pretty as a princess!” Giulietta pipes up.
“No, that’s stupid, Giulietta,” Jaspar says, sticking his tongue out. “You should tell her she’s smart. Or tug on her hair. Mrs. Harriet at school says boys do that sometimes when they like girls.”
“Let’s, uh, keep brainstorming, huh?” I suggest, not sure what to make of most of these ideas. “And let’s make this cake.”
I look back down at the piece of paper in front of me. Well, here goes fucking everything. Laying myself bare for Emerald and doing sappy shit like this. All just to prove to her that I can be the man she needs…