23. The Calm Before the Storm
23
The Calm Before the Storm
Jessica
Just as quickly as our moment began, it’s over.
And no sooner do we exit the bathroom than there’s a loud knock at the door.
Matt walks across the room, opens it a few inches, and speaks in a hushed tone to whoever is on the other side. A bundle of items is shoved through the crack, and he takes it and then shuts the door without further comment.
He walks back toward me, tossing the items on the bed and then stopping in front of me, his gaze intent as he says, “Are you ready for this?”
I frown, swallowing the lump in my throat before saying, “Don’t really have any other choice, do I?”
He cocks his head at me, a faint smile on his lips as he responds, “You always have a choice, sugar. But if you can manage it, if you can push through, then we get to see what’s on the other side of all the bullshit.”
He pauses, his lips pressing together, and then he steps in closer, so the front of his body is just brushing the front of mine. He stoops down so he’s looking directly into my eyes as he adds, “But if you can’t. I won’t judge you. I won’t take it personally, I won’t hold it against you, and I won’t punish you. Instead, we’ll find a way to get you out of it. I’ll make a call right now and have you out of here before they even realize what’s happening.”
“And what about you?”
Now, his smile is sad, and he shakes his head. “There’s no way out for me yet.”
“Yet?”
His lips curve up a little more, and there is a sparkle in his eye as he says, “Someday. But I don’t know when that someday is, and it’s not fair of me to expect you to take part in what’s going to happen. So, if you change your mind and want to go, I’ll make that work.”
“But you didn’t answer me when I said what about you?”
“Then I take the hit,” he replies calmly. “There will be hell to pay, but it won’t be the first time I’ve had to pay it and likely won’t be the last.”
I stare back at him, sure the indecision is evident on my face, but I’m able to keep my true feelings hidden as I think about Antoinette. Carolina. Even Issa.
Antoinette grew up in this life. She knows the ins and outs more clearly than anyone.
Carolina had it shoved down her throat from the time she could even be considered an adult.
And Issa. Lord knows we’ve had our trials, but I know at the end of the day, if she had to choose between her own well-being and her husband’s, she would choose Declan every time.
I take a hard look at him, staring directly into his eyes, and even though I have no idea what exactly I’m looking for, I see everything he wants me to see and likely even the things he doesn’t.
Matt has always come across as easygoing—or the boy scout, as the guys like to call him. And I probably fell into this thought process as well, always assuming he was a stand-up guy who managed to toe the line between good and evil while always coming out on the side of good.
But my experiences in the entertainment industry, never mind my previous life as the daughter of a criminal overlord, taught me that sometimes, the fine line between good and evil is so blurred that people lose sight of the so-called bad deeds that must be done for the greater good.
I raise my hands, cupping both sides of his face as I whisper, “I can do it.”
His eyes snap shut, and he expels a shuddering breath so forcefully that I laugh. Emotion wells in my chest, my eyes burn, and I know when he looks at me again, he’ll see the glassiness, even as I attempt to blink it away.
I rise up on my toes, pressing my lips against his softly and then a bit more firmly as he returns my kiss.
Then I drop my hands and step back as I ask, “Now what?”
He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales out his mouth and then motions to the bed as he replies, “Now, we get dressed and get ready for the shitshow.”
“Shitshow? Any chance whatsoever that it could end up not being a shitshow?”
“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “Given the circumstances, it will definitely be a huge shitshow. They’re going to pull out all the stops. They will demand a full show as proof that we’re not trying to pull one over on them.”
He reaches for a tiny plastic item on the bed and holds it out to me. I take it from him, examining it as I ask, “What is this?”
He rummages through the rest of the items on the bed, turning back to me with a needle in his hand. I frown, and then he replies, “That’s for your blood.”
My eyebrows rise practically into my hairline as I parrot, “My blood?”
He nods and then shrugs, “You’re the one that lied about being a virgin.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
He gives me an incredulous look and then says, “I thought you said you knew how this worked.”
“Knew how what worked?”
“The ceremonies? The idiotic, ritualistic bullshit hoops they can insist on.”
I frown, my arms crossing over my chest defensively as I whisper, “Well, I knew about a lot of them, but really, some of them seem a bit over the top.”
“There’s a high likelihood they wouldn’t demand it if you hadn’t said you’re a virgin, but Matteo’s family is definitely going to require proof of it because if he could kill you over anything right now, he would totally do it.”
“You’re saying that proof of virginity shit is still enforced?”
And now he’s looking at me like I’m a complete fucking moron, which is fine with me because I feel like a complete fucking moron. So, I sputter, “I was kind of hoping that was just a bunch of outrageous folklore parents used to keep their daughters from sleeping around.”
He laughs bitterly as he says, “Well, quite often, there’s a little truth in folklore.”
I grimace and hand him back the little plastic ball, then I move and sit on the side of the bed. “Do what you gotta do.”
He doesn’t waste any time making quick work of drawing blood from my arm and then inserting it into the little plastic ball. “You’re pretty good at that. Is that one of your side gigs?”
“What do you mean, side gig?”
“Phlebotomist,” I reply seriously. “I’ve heard a good phlebotomist is worth their weight in gold.”
He stares at me and shakes his head as he mutters, “I fear you’ve lost the plot.”
I laugh, becoming comfortable with the overwhelming urge for the maniacal laughter.
Matt shakes his head again and sighs as I continue to laugh. “I fear you’re starting to act like the rest of us.”
I shrug and then reply, “Inappropriate humor certainly has its place in uncomfortable situations.”
He snorts but says nothing, and then a wad of fabric hits me in the face. I grab at it as Matt laughs and says, “Put that on.”
I stop laughing but I’m still smiling as I drop the towel and pull on what appears to be a white dress of some sort. It’s rather shapeless, but at least it covers most of me.
Matt pulls on a pair of cotton pants and a shirt in the same fabric as my dress and then we stand there and look at each other and I feel that maniacal laughter coming back.
He moves close to me, the back of his hand stroking down my cheek softly as he says, “Don’t forget what I said.”
I frown and ask, “Which part?”
“The part about me having to do shit you’re not going to like. Just remember when it gets really bad, and it’s going to get bad, it’s all just a game. It’s a bullshit show for some bullshit people, and once this is all said and done, every single one of those motherfuckers will pay.”
I nod. “I’ll remember. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”
He nods, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against my lips, and then there’s a knock at the door.
“We gotta go.”
I say nothing. I just take his hand, turn, and lead him to the door.