Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Letti
Believe him, I do. He’s been totally upfront, honest, and as open as he can be with me when it comes to his intentions for those blood related to me.
I can’t call them my family, not anymore, because to me, they’re not.
The Kings, their women, the kids, and my Viking are.
They’re all the family I'll ever need or claim.
“I wanna tell you something,” he reluctantly says. He’s never hesitant about anything, so him acting this way, has me nervous.
“What is it?” I ask, wanting to get the ball rolling. I don’t like anything that makes him feel unsure or apprehensive. Especially when it pertains to me. We should be able to talk about anything without pause. At least in my mind, we should.
“I feel like an asshole for bringing it up, but I heard you giving yourself a pep talk earlier in the bathroom.”
“Shit,” I groan, hanging my head down in shame with my eyes tightly shut so I don’t have to see any sort of disappointment on his face, embarrassment swamping me.
I’ve had a few backslides lately when it comes to my therapy and recovery. I thought I was handling them well enough until the recurring nightmares brought up things and unearthed skeletons I thought I’d gotten past and buried deep, only when they arise, so do my insecurities.
“Goddess, look at me,” he orders, tucking his knuckles on his left hand into a light fist and placing it under my chin, lifting it. “That’s better. I didn’t bring this up to embarrass you, babe. I’d never do that, not to you.”
“I know,” I mutter then admit my earlier thoughts, “My dreams bring things up that I thought I’d put to rest. Self-loathing being one of them.”
“I wish you could see what I do when I look at you,” he states, moving his hand from my chin and wrapping it around the nape of my neck, drawing me closer to him where he places his forehead against mine.
His breath mingles with mine as he maintains eye contact—the devotion and affection I see has me melting.
“What do you see?” I question, my tone low, barely audible.
“I see strength, I see a survivor, I see… a warrior. A spirited, beautiful, intelligent conqueror who’s slaying her demons one entity at a time and coming out the victor.
The person I admire the most in this godforsaken world.
The one woman I want beside me at night when I crawl into bed, and the woman I want to wake up with each morning, the woman I’ll face the day for when all I want to do is stay buried beneath the sheets where the world won’t try and swallow me whole.
I want you to be my partner, Letti. In every way. ”
“I want that too,” I cry. Ugly tears are now flowing down my cheeks.
I’m a sobbing mess because nobody has said anything so beautiful about me.
He may not realize this, but he’s the one who gives me the strength and courage to fight those demons he mentioned.
So I voice that, and by the time I’m done, he wraps his strong, impenetrable arms around me, holding me tightly.
Nothing makes me feel safer and more protected than when I’m wrapped up in his embrace.
Nothing can touch me here—he’s my safe haven. My salvation. My champion, my equalizer, and my highlander all rolled into one. He’s the entire package and he wants me.
I know that some of the things he shares with me has him toeing the line between me and the club, and I’ll forever be thankful that he entrusts me with the things that he does.
It has to be hard for him to walk that fine line, because I know we’re equally important to him.
He won’t betray them, but he hates keeping me in the dark because he’s well-aware of the struggles I have with those who could do me the most harm.
I’ve never hidden the fact that I steadily watch my back, even when I know either him or one of his brothers have it guarded.
It’s an instinct that’s been ingrained into me since I was a small girl.
“That’s why it’s hard for me to watch you struggle with your image and worth, goddess.”
“I’m working on it, on myself,” I promise.
“I know you are. I see it every damn day, baby girl. But I think it’s time I show you what I see. Do you trust me?”
“With my life,” I avow.
“Come with me,” he says as he untangles himself from me and stands up, reaching out his hand and offering me help getting up.
These cushions on the couch are glorious, until you try to unbury yourself from them.
I’m short, so it’s a struggle. I take his hand and once we lace our fingers together, static electricity travels up my arm like it does every dadgum time he touches me.
It’s one of the ways I know we’re meant to be.
The charged zap never diminishes, no matter how many times we hold hands or hug each other.
Instead, it flourishes and deepens. It’s hard to ignore—the signs are there, big and bright. He is mine and I am his.
I follow him down the hallway until we reach the master bedroom. He guides me over to the standing mirror that sits in the corner of the room, coming up behind me, he has me face it. “What do you see when you look at yourself, Letti.”
“Don’t make me do this, Viking. Please,” I beg.
“Does it make you uncomfortable?” he asks.
“Yes,” I hiss, but it lacks venom. Instead, it’s full of distaste and mortification. I don’t think I’ll ever be capable of giving myself any raving reviews. Until I came here, I never heard anything good about myself, instead, it was all full of degradation.
“Whose voice do you hear in your head when you look at yourself in the mirror, baby? Is it yours or somebody else’s?”
“I hear many voices, Viking. Including my own.”
“Whose is the loudest out of them?” he continues, making me grit my teeth.
“I’m not sure,” I fib.
“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me, Letti. Never me. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what you say or admit. Hear me?”
“I hear you,” I answer, releasing a long, dramatic sigh.
“Look, Letti. See yourself and notice who’s at your back. Me. The man who will always be there waiting to catch you if you fall.”
“I see you,” I whisper.
“Good. Now see yourself,” he commands. “Who are you, baby? Tell me.”
“I’m yours,” I tell him.
“Damn straight you are,” he barks out. “That’s not in question. But that’s not the answer I want. Dig deep, goddess. Face your fears with me holding you. I won’t let go.”
“Not even when you hear my thoughts? When you hear what I really think about myself? Swear it, Viking.”
“I give you my solemn oath, Letti.”
“Okay then, here it goes. I hope it doesn’t make your ears bleed,” I tease, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.
He gently squeezes me, letting me know he heard me but doesn’t support my joking, not when it’s something so damn serious.
“Alright,” I say, unleashing a harsh breath.
“I see someone who’s troubled, someone who carries around a lot of weighted down baggage.
A person who was unwanted from the time of conception.
A woman who was browbeaten, demeaned, used, abused, and has no self-worth.
A person who’s weak enough to believe what people have said about her. I see a loser.”
“That’s a lot of damnation, baby girl. Give me the positives instead of the negatives this time when you tell me about yourself. What’s your favorite attribute about yourself?”
“My hair,” I admit. “My eyes. My skin tone. My smile. Those are my favorite things about myself.”
“What else? That was all superficial. Dig deeper, Letti.”
“I’m loyal,” I conclude. “I’m steadfast. I’m a good friend. I’m someone who you always know will be there for you, no matter how rough things get. I’ll always be along for the ride, bumps and all. I’m not easily thrown.”
“That’s a damn good start and fine points, gorgeous. Doesn’t sound like a weak person to me. How about you?”
“Not really, I guess,” I surmise.
“It takes strength to be there for those you care about through thick and thin. A weak person would run and hide in the shadows and let those struggling face their own problems. Now, look in that mirror, see how I look at you and tell me what you see.”
I gasp because he’s letting every emotion thrumming through him shine through. “I see love. A man who sees no flaws. A man who worships his woman, faults and all.”
“Let’s talk about those, shall we?” he inquires.
“If you insist,” I sass, being a brat. I don’t like discussing the good things about me.
For some damn reason, it makes me feel dirty when it should be doing the exact opposite.
I’m sure that’s my mother’s influence since she always berated me and made me ‘wash my sins away’ if I ever said anything resembling anything good about myself.
He shakes his head, but outside of that, he doesn’t react to my snarkiness. “Tell me about the love you say you see from me, Letti. Does it come with strings attached?”
“No,” I mumble.
“Fucking right,” he grumbles. “Do you see judgment from me about these supposed flaws you think I see?”
“No,” I repeat my earlier answer.
“The worship is a given. A real man will drop to his knees and worship the woman who stole his heart and soul. The woman who woke him up when he was barely skating by in life. And Letti, I’m a real man.
Warts and all. I see you, I see the real you, not the one who hides behind the scared little girl.
I see the woman you have become and are still growing into.
That woman deserves to have her feet kissed for all of the bullshit she’s had to wade through.
I see a goddess, my goddess. My life. My everything.
The reason I breathe. The reason my heart leaps and my soul sings.
I see the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love the fuck out of you, Letti.”
This man dominates my world.
He just slayed every one of my fucking nightmares in one fell swoop. I see me now, it’s still a tad hazy, and there’s a lot of room for improvement, but I’m starting to recognize the things in me that he does. Because he made it so.
“I love you too, Viking.”
“Enough to tell me that you’re beautiful on the inside and out,” he barters.
“Not quite, but I’m getting there, my Viking.”
“Then let’s get there together,” he recommends.
“I have an idea about how we can do that,” I suggest.
“Anything, goddess. I’ll do anything to help you get there.”
“Make love to me. Show me with your body how I make you feel. Prove to me that I’m beautiful.”