Chapter 62 Cassidy #2
A hint of a grin draws his lips out. "Messy?"
"Yes," I admit through a light smile. "Why didn't you come straight home?"
"I had a few things to sort out." He holds me effortlessly with one hand under my backside and feeds his other up through my hair.
His brows bunch for a second, and then he pulls a Cheeto out from my knotted strawberry-blonde strands.
My cheeks ignite with shame. I cover my blushing face, which is already wet from my tears and hot from my embarrassment.
I grin into my palms. "Oh my gawd. Kill me."
He laughs, deep and real, and the sound touches my heart. Lowering my hands, I find his gaze caressing my face. Then he grins at me and eats the Cheeto.
My mouth drops open.
"You're feral," I say, with a soft giggle, briefly forgetting where he has been for the past few days and letting myself relax against him. "That could have been from yesterday."
He laughs again and holds me close. Then he sets me down on the ground. The thick, lush grass feels like a sponge under my ballet flats. I grip his forearms and rake his body thoroughly—inspect him—searching for hints of trauma or turbulence within his presence.
"Did they hurt you?" I mutter as I catch his eyes, but I'm met with only cool, calm, menacing Max. No shadows are hidden within his irises. There is sadness though, and it hurts my stomach.
I touch the stubble at his jawline, and he closes his eyes, moving into my palm, chasing comfort in a subtle way. "I'm sorry, Little One," he says, his voice stern, hoarse, rough, as if he's been shouting or yelling all night long. And I wouldn't know..."Did what happen scare you?"
Clenching my jaw, I draw breath in through my nose. Quick, short breaths. I remember the feeling of having him ripped away. Of my world tilting. Spinning. "Yes. Yes, of course it did, Max. I was scared for you."
He exhales slowly, shaking his head. "Don't be scared for me."
"That's a stupid thing to say," I state, glancing away from him, over his shoulder at the vast block of land we're standing on. "What happened to you?" I mutter without offering him my gaze, my voice hesitant and breathy. "Were they nice to you?"
He straightens, causing my palm to slip from his cheek. A big warm hand grips the curve of my neck. His thumb pushes my chin up, demanding my gaze meet his. "Little One, don't do that."
I fight the well of tears. I fight it, but it happens anyway. "It kills me to think about you in that dark place... Behind bars. You're so much more fragile than—"
His hand tightens on the arch of my throat. "Little One, stop it."
"You could lose yourself in there, Max," I say in barely a whisper. An echo. "God, I can't lose you." I grip at his forearm, fingers kneading him with a kind of desperation.
Cradling my head with his hands, he leans in closer and says, "You won't."
I stare up at him, craning my neck to fix him with my passion and meaning.
"In here, Max." Pressing my palm to his hard chest, I feel the muscles ripple below his shirt.
"I know you think that's weak and silly.
I know you want to cringe; you probably have the urge to just throw me down on your mattress and silence me with your mouth, but I am here for—"
"I always have the urge to throw you down on my mattress and silence y—"
"Those places can be rough. And, well, it's over anyway," I say weakly. "Right? So you don't need to be strong anymore. I want you to be able to tell me what that was like for you. I don't want you to have this life-changing event and not share it with me. I don't—"
"Cassidy, I need you to stop talking." He presses his lips to mine, their warmth and gentleness coercing me to be quiet.
I close my eyes and let his mouth consume me, silencing the questions and thoughts.
I lock them away for now to enjoy the peace and contentment of our world.
We hum into our kiss, a strange kind of sadness behind the motion of his lips and tongue.
A gentleness that isn't hopeful but painful, and I try to ignore it.
Our kiss is broken when Carter clears his throat beside us.
Max frowns at the interruption.
"Sorry, boss. The sun will be down soon." He hands Max a black headset of some kind. "Here you go."
Max looks at my wide-eyed expression. "Turn around and face the block, Little One."
A nervous giggle leaves me. "What are you doing?"
"I want to show you something."
He positions me in front of him with my shoulders and head pressed to his hard broad chest. He slides the headset over my eyes, and I'm immediately staring at a black abyss.
"I'm nervous," I say, shuffling on the grass.
A little fizzle sounds by my ear as Max flicks the headset on.
Then an image of a beautiful house appears on the empty lot.
I cover my gasp. It looks so real, as though I could walk straight up through the portico and open the double doors.
It is two storeys high with carved trimmings around the roofline, a gable, and exposed eaves.
There is a veranda on the base level, adorned with low fencing.
It is a modern representation of a 19th-century-style home.
It's fricking beautiful. I beam with pride.
Max has designed this house; I just know it.
I twist my head and the house stays stationary as if it is really cemented to the earth. "Is this VR?"
"Yes." His voice makes me jump a little as he sounds far away, my eyes and ears not experiencing the same environment. It's quite jarring.
"What do you think?"
I grin. "It's cool."
He chuckles. "Of the house, Little One. Not the VR."
"Oh." I smile hard and wonder if he's looking at my face. "Well I think it's just lovely."
I take it all in, noticing a building set back behind the house, offset slightly to the left. "What is that?" I point as if he can see what I can.
"That's a dance studio."
My heart skips a beat, possibly an entire chorus. I pull the headset down, and the block is empty again, shadowed by the low light of the newly setting sun. I spin to face him, blinking fast. "What?"
He sighs roughly, searching my flushed features. "It's for us."
I squeal with excitement. My heart jetes and fouettés and piques and does a silly dance. "Really?"
He nods, a pleased smile hitting the corner of his mouth. "If you want. I know this is your city. This is where I want you to be."
Wrapping my arms around his middle, I squeeze him tight. "Thank you."
He pushes me out in front of him and I notice his eyes have glossed over. I do a double-take, not quite understanding the sadness I see within their depths. Not wanting to...
My throat tightens.
"You're my life, Cassidy Slater," he says, trailing his fingers down my cheeks.
"Now, with your perfect face. While you're so beautiful it fucking hurts.
And when your belly is swollen with my babies and you're grumpy and a pain in the arse, then too.
And when you're old and grey and for some fucking reason still putting up with all my shit. You're my life."
I can't breathe.
I can't think. I don't want to hear any of this. Not liking the break in his throat, the shudder in his voice, I shake my head slowly. "Why are you saying this?"
He grits his teeth, fighting back emotion, his face lightly veiling so much pain. "I'm going away."
My lip trembles uncontrollably. "Where are we going?" Spinning away from him, I cover my face, tears bursting out too fast to control. No.
"Don't do that." He twists me back to face him, his jaw pulsing when he sees my tears. "Hold on to the feeling from before. Don't cry. They want me to plead guilty for possession of an illegal firearm and assault on an officer."
"You didn't assault anyone!" I cry.
"Actually... I did." He nods with a show of regret. "They can't get me for anything else. Jimmy made sure of that. We are hoping for thirty-six months, out on parole at twenty-four."
No. No.
"No. No. No," I chant, shaking my head violently, feeling dizzy, feeling my world fall to pieces. My legs give out from under me, and my knees hit the grass, giving up. I'm giving up.
He grips my shoulders, pulling me to my feet. "Listen to me, Little One."
"No."
"Listen," he growls, but he's not angry. It is aggression manifesting from passion, and I understand it all too well.
I want to scream.
Shriek.
I ball my hands into fists.
"While I'm in, I need you to be the bravest you have ever been. Don't disappear in here." He presses his big, warm hands to my cheeks, tapping one of his forefingers on my temple. "Be you. Bubbly. A silly little girl. Soften my brothers' lives."
I can’t see him now, not through the tears.
So many tears.
"I can't do this without you!" I cry.
"Do what?
I gasp for air as sobs begin to cripple my body, anger disappearing into a melting pot of despair. "Anything! Live. Breathe!"
He kisses my lips quickly, our mouths coated in my tears. He pulls back and wipes at my face, thumbs moving under my eyes and around my cheeks, but more salty water rains down. I'm helpless to stop them.
Helpless to save him.
Us.
"Are you kidding me?" His brows draw in tight with severity. "You're the fucking boss, Cassidy. You run things for us now. You can do anything without me."
"No."
"Stop saying no."
I squeeze my eyes shut, holding them that way as I shake my head over and over. No.
"Look at me." He tries to pull me back to him, to a place where he breaks my heart. But I don't want to go. Don't want to hear it. Don't want to be a part of this conversation. "You're not just little Cassidy Slater anymore. I'm not sure you ever were... You're my girl. Strong. Fierce."
I open my eyes to find his are narrowed and locked on mine, ready to dive straight inside and drag me out and back to a place where I am whole.
I blink tears out. "But... I. Need. You," I whisper, each one vibrating out of my heart-broken little body.
He swallows his emotions down again. "Do you know what I need?"
Sucking a big breath in, I try to steady my panic. "I don’t know anything."
"I need you to be my wife."
What?
He kneels on the grass in front of me.
Oh my God, what is he doing?
I cover my mouth with both hands, blinking tears over the top of them.
"I need your last name to be Butcher, so everyone knows you're mine.
" When he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring box, I completely stop breathing.
No, no, I don't stop breathing. The air doesn't exist anymore; this moment is so monumental that the atmosphere around us is thick with emotion.
So thick that I can't find the oxygen between the fibres of our feelings.
He flicks the box open and my eyes widen further.
"It's not a diamond. I didn't think you'd want a diamond after—" He clears his throat. "And I don't want anything dirty touching your perfect fucking hands. It's a ruby. A really rare ruby. I paid for this with clean money, Little One.
"Look at the block. That house will take eighteen months, maybe two years, to build. By the time I get out, it'll be ready for us. Ready for us to start our life together."
My heart is being wrenched around, aching with absolute sadness, flipping with so much love.
I want to say something. Want to respond.
I don't have the words though—they're lost in my mind, smothered by confusion.
Am I happy? Sad? Both? Every fricking emotion at once? I can't ... can't think straight.
"You know who I am," he says with a seriousness and sternness that knots my stomach up with conflicting truths. I love him. More than life. More than anything. But I know who he is... Yes. "You know what I do. It'll always be a part of me. What I need to know is... are you in this with me anyway?"
I find myself nodding. Because I am. I always have been. Then I move my hands away and breathe out, "Yes."
He takes the ring from its satin mould. "Is that a yes to being Cassidy Butcher?"
"Yes."
Standing up, he grazes his finger from my thigh to my wrist. Pulling my little hand out between us, he slides the ring onto my finger. I gape at it. It's big. A deep-red teardrop with sheer cut facets that shine pink, purple, and claret. The band is a white metal—white gold or platinum.
I breathe in deep, the air returning to my lungs like a gift of possibility.
Of hope. The wind whirls around me as I stand on our block with his baby in my belly and his promise on my finger.
I lift my head up to meet his eyes and can't help myself.
I leap into his arms and we pepper kisses all over each other's faces.
And even though he broke my heart today...
He tied it back together again with the promise of our future.
It just has to wait. I can wait for him.
Mrs Cassidy Butcher.