Chapter Twenty-Four
Tyson
Malory loves me.
Fuck. That feels good.
My dead heart beating stronger in my chest as I replay her words in my head over and over.
They still don’t sound real.
I can’t think of a person less deserving of her love but here I am, taking it all for myself anyway.
All fucking mine.
There isn’t a force in this world that would tear me away from her now.
Malory truly wants me. All of me, even the darkest parts that I never intended on showing her, the parts that I wanted to keep buried for her own sake, the parts that were dead for fucking decades.
But no.
She dragged it all out of me, making all of me unconditionally hers.
It’s almost midday. The sun high in the sky, beating down on the glass roof above my head and I’m starting to sweat profusely in the scorching heat.
It’ll be an excruciatingly hot summer, as is every summer in California. Though it’s a bit more bearable up here in the woods for my girl.
I shove the measuring tape into my back pocket, slamming the greenhouse door behind me.
I can’t take this anymore.
My need to see her, to touch her suffocating me.
It’s been like that from the first night I stood at her window, only now, it’s a thousand times stronger with no end in sight, threatening to consume me whole.
Not that I care.
Carefully, I unlock the front door, entering silently because I love catching Malory unguarded, fully herself.
Her sense of style perfectly complements the cabin. The plants and pots made from natural materials, fluffy throw blankets with stacks of books and scattered paint supplies adding a personal touch, making it a home.
Our home . Just as I intended.
Standing rooted in the doorway, I simply look at the object of my obsession. Of my love.
My girl is sitting on a barstool, sketches of all kinds of plants spread over the kitchen island with green tea and a dish of our cookies sitting in the center.
We made them last night after all the make-up sex and groveling on my part. Covered in flour and laughing so hard I think I dislocated something in my jaw.
For fuck’s sake. I don’t think I’ve truly laughed in my life.
With her around though, the things I never thought myself capable of come naturally.
I’ve dreaded telling her about our brothers for weeks now and when Raffaele blurted it out in the car, I wanted to turn around and go choke the life out of that idiot with my bare hands.
No one upsets my girl, least of all me. But sooner or later it had to be done.
What didn’t cross my mind was that she’d immediately conclude that I’m her brother as well.
I mean having an incestuous relationship wouldn’t have stopped me but I understand that her moral compass is more attuned to the norms of what society deems as right or wrong.
Another thing I didn’t even dream to hope for was that Malory would forgive me so soon after her break down on the porch.
Seeing the agony engraved in her beautifully delicate face, I thought I lost her for good.
And my heart broke.
After we stripped out of our wet clothes and I properly showed her just how much I love her in the shower, we went downstairs to enjoy a cozy night by the fire.
Everything falling into place as we went back to our version of normal. If not even better now that there’s nothing left unsaid between us anymore.
Malory hasn’t mentioned her father at all and I don’t know what to make of it. Instead, she has started asking questions about our brothers.
It’s probably for the best because I don’t want to discuss her piece of shit father either, but I know seeing him and her whole childhood in a new light is weighing heavy on her.
I stupidly promised that I wouldn’t kill the bastard but even my restraint has its limits.
Though I know better than to ask whether she changed her mind about that.
As for our brothers, I readily answered everything I could. Because as much as I hate sharing Malory’s attention with anyone, she admittedly does have a right to know.
Besides me, they are the only one’s she can trust.
They’ll protect her, do anything to ensure her safety in case something were to happen to me.
She’d be taken care of and that’s all that matters.
For her to have everything she ever wanted and then some.
Making my way towards my girl, Nero lifts his head at my approach but drops it just as fast, going back to sleep at her feet.
I can feel the exact moment when she senses that I’m right behind her.
Bracing my arms on both sides of her tiny frame, I cage her in against the counter as she tilts her head up, allowing me to place a kiss to her forehead from above.
“Your back must be hurting, little one.” I mumble against her skin.
She’s been wholly immersed in her drawings all morning, hunched over her work for hours on end. Her passion taking over.
So, I start kneading the tight muscles on her shoulders, working out the knots.
A soft groan escaping her parted lips as she leans further into my touch.
That’s it.
Nuzzling the nape of her neck, I inhale her sweet, vanilla scent while my hands work their way down her spine.
“I missed you.” Her voice is gentle, her words wrapping around my heart like a vice.
I don’t remember feelings being this intense before I suppressed them into nothingness. Sometimes I think they’re coming back with a vengeance.
“I was mapping out an extension for the greenhouse. Soon, you’ll have more space for your plants.” I say into the crook of her neck, my lips ghosting her sensitive skin.
“And I always miss you when I’m not near you, not touching you, baby girl.” I kiss my way down her shoulders, running my hands over the bare skin on her stomach as they slip under her tank top.
“It doesn’t matter if we’re just an inch apart, I have to feel your skin against mine. Always .”
Turning around in my embrace, Malory wraps her arms around my waist, fisting my shirt as she pulls me closer.
I crush her little body into my much bigger one, my inked arms contrasting with her pale skin.
“How about we head out and get some food. Maybe look for some more of those leafy vines you force me to hang from the ceiling. There’s never enough of those.”
I know we went out just yesterday, but I want to make this day special for her. Make her forget about her father.
“That’s ivy, and I would have hung it myself if you hadn’t wrestled me from the ladder.” She playfully swats my ass, propping her chin up against my chest.
“I’m not having you climb that thing and hurt yourself, Malory.” I growl, bringing my face to hers.
“I was on the first step!” She huffs and I can’t resist running my thumb over her pouty lips.
“Where do you want to eat?” I change the topic before I can get carried away with her mouth and we won’t be leaving at all.
“I used to get this plant-based pistachio ice cream they have downtown every summer.” Her eyes light up just from talking about it. “I was thinking, maybe you’d want to continue that tradition with me.”
Of course I want that.
I’d do anything with her, I would eat fucking mud if she asked me to.
For Malory to share her special spot with me, it does something to my insides that doesn’t seem healthy.
How could I have missed this when I was stalking her day and night?
I made sure to know all her favorite things and habits before bringing her here so she’d have everything to feel perfectly at home.
No need to cause her unnecessary distress over not having her fancy shampoo or favorite pair of pajamas.
However, it does feel oddly satisfying, rewarding even, when she tells me something I haven’t found out on my own.
I want to possess her every thought, fulfil her every unspoken wish.
“Let’s go.” I hoist her up, her legs immediately wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the car.
We exit the small café near the Golden Gate. Walking hand in hand while holding two scones loaded with pistachio ice cream.
Uncharacteristically for the Bay, there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Even the drive up to San Francisco, which I’ve done hundreds of times between stalking my girl and getting the cabin ready for her arrival, has been enjoyable with Malory by my side.
I don’t particularly like staying in the city, only coming out at night if a job needs to be done. By then most people are already fast asleep, rendering it somewhat quieter.
I’ve grown up in Los Angeles, never leaving its borders until I got out on my own.
Maybe that’s why I feel this resentment at seeing all those desperate people, hiding their suffering behind fake smiles and forced politeness as they go about their meaningless lives.
I knew that fate all too well until I found someone who made life worth living.
Looking down at our entwined hands, my blood warms at how my large hand engulfs her small one perfectly.
It feels fucking incredible.
With Malory’s fingers laced through mine, squeezing my hand and happily lapping at her melting ice cream, suddenly this outing seems a lot more pleasant.
As long as I keep my focus on her, I don’t give a fuck where we are. She’s all that matters.
Fucking hell.
I’d do anything to have that mouth wrapped around me while I’d devour her sweet pussy.
“How long are we staying?” Malory’s voice tears me from my raging thoughts.
She’s dressed in a blush pink summer dress that’s flowing in the breeze, looking so deliciously innocent that I can’t wait to rip it off her later.
Taking a deep breath, I try calming my hardening cock.
Not yet. There’s too many people around.
“As long as you want, little one.” I counter, looking deep into her sparkling green orbs.
The sun is making her chestnut hair glisten, revealing hints of auburn and her cheeks have a light rosy tint to them.
She’s breathtakingly gorgeous.
And all fucking mine.
Subconsciously, I lead her towards the more remote part of the park while she’s contently watching the palm trees sway overhead.
Until she doesn’t.
My senses kick into overdrive when I feel her freeze at my side.
I’ve been so lost in looking at my girl this whole time, too engrossed in her to notice the three armed men dressed in tactical gear coming towards us, blocking our way.
Fuck.
Stopping abruptly, both of our ice creams fall to the ground as I jerk Malory to me.
Covering her with my body, I put myself between her and the men keeping their eyes sharply trailed on us. On my girl.
There’s no mistaking what this is.
They’re here for her.
Though what they don’t know is that three of them won’t be nearly enough.
“Let her go.” A deep voice booms behind us.
I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
John Hayes.
Slowly, I turn sideways, not losing sight of the threat up front as I look upon the man who abandoned my family to the worst fate imaginable. In the hands of my own father.
The fucking coward is standing behind two more men, all hired muscle from the Bratva I’m guessing.
With a gasp, Malory’s fingers dig into my back as she clings to me.
“It’s okay, baby.” I murmur into her hair so only she can hear me.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I squeeze her hip once.
“Come here, Malory.” John commands as I tighten my hold on her, raw rage coursing through my veins.
How did this fucking happen? Raffaele made sure to dispose of every man even remotely associated with John. Leaving a trail of bodies until the rumors of their unfortunate demise made the others kick him to the curb.
They knew he pissed off someone powerful and didn’t intend to be collateral to his fall from grace.
We fucking had it under control.
Only the Bratva would dare to think they could stand a chance against us. But then again, they were close to ridding themselves of his dead weight as well.
Apparently, this is John investing all his remaining resources and connections into one last reckless effort and it fucking panned out.
Though he must be desperate if he’s ambushing us in broad daylight, in a park filled with innocent bystanders not too far away.
And desperate people make mistakes.
Already, I can see people running away at the sight of blazing guns. Yet some of them stopped to gawk, even film the whole thing.
“No.” Malory’s tone is firm and resolute as she fists my shirt, determined to stay at my side.
That’s my good girl.
“Let my daughter go, you fucking worthless scum!” John barks, completely ignoring her.
His men close in on us, their hands resting on the guns at their hips, ready to shoot if I as much as move a muscle.
This isn’t the worst situation I’ve gotten myself into, but I can’t get both of us out without risking Malory getting caught in the crossfire.
And that’s not fucking happening.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, father.” My girl lifts her chin, looking straight at the bastard while he’s glaring at me. “Let us leave.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Get away from that man!” John yells, finally acknowledging her. “Now!”
Malory flinches and I growl in response, my fists clenching with the need to cave his face in.
All I want to do is rip the piece of shit apart, feel his warm blood on my bare skin, running through my fingers.
“This isn’t your decision to make, I’m staying with him.” Her voice remains steady, but I can feel her hands starting to shake.
It’s too late when I notice the movement in my peripheral vision. A deafening boom reverberating through the air as sharp pain pierces my thigh, making my legs buckle.
Fucking damn it.
I can barely hear Malory screaming my name through the ringing in my head.
My first instinct to protect her, to hold onto her, makes me take her down with me. Falling hard to my knees on the pavement.
Before I can recover, strong hands are everywhere, restraining my arms behind my back.
Only when I feel her tiny frame being ripped away from me do I finally snap out of it.
No one touches my baby girl and lives to tell the tale.
Fuck. I can’t reach the gun tucked in my waistband.
Bringing my somewhat working leg behind me, I yank the switchblade from my boot, ramming it upward into the side of the guy holding my arms trapped, twisting out of his hold.
Still, there’s too many of them. Throwing themselves at me before I can swing the knife once more.
Despite rarely needing to partake in close combat, I know how to hold my ground.
I’ll rip them all apart even if it’s the last thing I’ll do.
Dropping down, I momentarily escape their reach in time to pull out my gun and shoot the unfortunate idiot in front of me right in his groin.
I’d shudder if I could feel empathy.
With a piercing wail, his collapsing body falls halfway on top of me as I hit the next one straight in the gut.
Before I can fire again, someone grabs my arm, dislodging my shoulder from its socket. The weapon is ripped from my grasp, effectively disarming me.
There’s nowhere to dodge before the same brute is on me, both of us rolling on the ground between punches.
Ramming my fist into his nose with bone crushing force, it caves into his skull, breaking with an audible crunch.
Yet he doesn’t let up.
The fucker above me keeps plummeting my face with his blood dripping down onto me.
Over the struggle, all I can hear are Malory’s desperate screams. Time and time again, begging for them to stop.
My jaw hurst, my face probably more bloodied that not when my head finally falls limply to the side.
That’s when I see it.
My girl being dragged away by her father, fighting against his hold as another dead man rushes over to contain her.
“Tyson!” She cries hysterically, thrashing against the Russian who’s hauling her away.
“Don’t touch her!” I snarl, throwing the other man off me, lurching towards my Malory.
I can feel my pulse in my throat, beating just for her.
Yet I don’t get far before my face is squashed against the cement with two of the Russians straddling my back.
Meaty hands close around my neck, choking me out. The crushing hold on my windpipe relentless.
Just when my vision starts to blur am I finally allowed to take a ragged breath, only for my wrists to be bound behind my back.
Not with cuffs I could easily break.
Metal wire.
Digging deep into my skin with every move.
I can’t get out of this. At least not now.
Malory’s screams continue slicing through my chest, ripping apart my heart that has just been put back together.
“She's mine!” I roar, my throat hoarse from the force of it.
For the first time I feel something I haven't felt in years. Raw fear .
I see it in her eyes too, she believes this is it.
Yet this isn’t over. We’ll never be over.
I hold her gaze, refusing to look anywhere but into her beautiful, green eyes overflowing with tears in hopes that she sees the determination in my own.
“Mine!” I snarl when the door of a blacked-out SUV is closed in her face, leaving her banging against the glass.
I’ll have my girl back.