25. Chapter 25 #4
“She’s beautiful,” I mused. “Too beautiful, maybe. And she never wanted the life my father had.” A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “She had an expensive taste … and very little patience for the life my father used to live.”
“Your father was…?”
“Involved in the Russian mafia.”
“… Oh.”
“Yeah. Actually, he wasn’t just involved. He was close to the very top.”
“And your mom was…?”
“The mistress.”
She exhaled slowly. “Oh.”
This second ‘oh’ conveyed a deeper understanding.
“She didn’t particularly enjoy her position,” I calmly continued. “She also had very strong opinions about the Bratva.”
“I’m guessing she was not a fan.”
“She hated it, but where they are from, you don’t really have much of a choice. My father’s family was the law, and no one could say no to them.”
“That sounds … healthy?”
I snorted. “Yeah, fucking tell me about it. She wanted me far away from it all. That’s why we came to America.”
Addy’s fingers resumed their slow movement along my ribs.
“Did it work out for her?” she asked, caution lacing her tone.
“No. My father died — got shot in the head when a deal went wrong, from what I’ve heard — but his brother’s power extended just as far. They never lost track of us.”
Her breath caught. “I’m guessing that’s … complicated.”
I sighed. “It became even more complicated when I went to prison.”
“How come?”
“Mom came to visit at first.” I paused. “For a while, at least.”
“And then?”
“She realized I’d become … involved in the, um, family business.”
“Ah.” Understanding seemed to dawn on her.
“Yeah.”
Addy fell silent for a moment, and I could practically hear her thinking. “I’m guessing she didn’t like that.”
“Mom never wanted this kind of life for me,” I said simply.
She hummed. “Then what happened?”
“She stopped visiting. Cut contact.”
“She stopped visiting?” Disbelief, and dare I say it, even outrage, dripped from every syllable.
Despite the familiar twinge of pain, a smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah. I haven’t seen her in five years.” I blew out a breath. “Honestly, I’m not even sure where she is now.”
Addy was quiet for a few seconds. “Must have sucked.”
I huffed a quiet breath that might have been a laugh. “It was … not ideal.”
“That’s the most manly way I’ve ever heard of describing emotional trauma.”
I felt my mouth twitch again.
Addy shifted slightly, curling a little closer against me. Her fingers continued to drift absentmindedly along my ribs, and the quiet hum of the water outside filled the spaces between our breaths.
I already knew her father was dead but she hadn’t mentioned anyone else.
Something I absolutely had noticed. I noticed most things about her.
Eventually, I broached the subject. “You never talk about the rest of your family.”
Her fingers paused for a moment against my ribs. Then they resumed tracing, but more slowly.
“There’s not much to talk about.” Her tone was light and breezy.
That answer didn’t satisfy me in the slightest.
“There’s always something to talk about.”
A strange mix of emotions swirled through me: curiosity, persistence and possessiveness.
“You’re very nosy,” she informed me.
“I’m thorough.”
Addy sighed, but it was more the reluctant acceptance of someone who knew she had already started answering the question in her head than any real resistance.
“My mom moved to England after my dad died.”
I frowned slightly. “England.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s kind of far away.”
“That’s where my grandmother — her mother — is from. When Dad died, she … well, Mom said she couldn’t stay,” Addy said, her voice softening. “Too many reminders.”
Her fingers traced a tattoo on my side with featherlight touches.
“Of him?”
“Of everything, I guess. He was the love of her life. Anyone who saw them together could instantly see it. They were perfect for each other.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I think she just wanted to start over where none of it had happened.”
“But what about you?”
“I didn’t want to go.”
So she stayed. Alone. The thought made something sharp twist low in my chest.
“You have a sister, though, don’t you?”
Addy groaned immediately. “Oh my God! How do you know that?”
“You mentioned her once.”
Lie. I just had a file containing extensive information about her.
“That feels illegal.”
“I listen when you speak.”
She studied my face, unsure whether to be impressed or mildly alarmed.
“My sister and I are complete opposites in every imaginable way,” she said finally.
“How?”
“She’s … terrifyingly competent.”
I pursed my lips. “Doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Trust me, it is when you’re related to her.” Addy rolled slightly onto her side so she could look at me properly now, propping herself up on her elbow. “Savannah has had a five-year life plan since she was twelve.”
“Ambitious.”
“She color-codes spreadsheets for fun.” Addy rolled her eyes. “And … well, she thinks chaos is a personality flaw.”
I glanced down at her, my brows furrowing. “You’re very chaotic.”
She lowered her gaze. “Uh, thank you.”
Oh shit. I had not meant for it to come out of this way.
“It was just an observation.” I hurriedly tried to amend my error.
She smiled softly. “It’s fine. It was never an observation when she said it.” Flopping back down onto my chest, she let out a small sigh. “We used to fight all the time. She thinks I have no direction in life.”
I was now openly frowning, indignation rising inside me like a cork on a champagne bottle about to pop. “You have direction.”
“Oh really?” she asked dryly.
“Yes,” I emphasized.
“And what direction is that?”
“Whichever direction leads to me.”
Addy snorted and rolled her eyes playfully. “That’s not a career path.”
“It is now. I’m turning it into one.” I paused. “Well, for you at least. It’s a unique opportunity.”
She poked my ribs. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She rolled her eyes again but continued. “Savannah met her husband in college. His family is ridiculously wealthy. Like the kind of wealthy where their Christmas cards look like corporate brochures.”
“And what about him?”
“Nathan is a huge douchebag.” Addy grimaced, and I immediately became alert. She rarely spoke ill of anyone, so her disgust was certainly interesting.
I raised an eyebrow and drawled, “Is he now?”
“Extremely,” she confirmed. “But Savannah doesn’t care because he’s perfect on paper.”
“What does that mean?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Great job, great family, great income, great house, great everything.”
“And a terrible personality,” I finished.
“Correct.” Addy pursed her lips.
“And she married him?”
She sighed. “Yes.”
I considered that. “I’m sorry but that sounds stupid. Why would she marry someone like that?”
Addy laughed softly. “They moved to another state a couple of years ago, after they’d both finished college.”
“And you haven’t seen her since?”
She shrugged slightly. “Nope. It's mostly just been me since then.”
Her tone was casual. Too casual.
“What about friends?” I rasped, feeling a sudden tightness in my throat.
Addy was quiet for a moment and then admitted, “I don’t really have any.”
My chest felt like it was being squeezed by a rubber band.
“What? Why?” I knew my question might have been somewhat insensitive, but I needed to know.
She hesitated and simply shrugged again. “I’m not really great at all that.”
“At what?”
She huffed impatiently. “Actually making friends.”
I frowned. “Seems unlikely.”
“Well,” she said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, “I always feel like I’m … a lot.”
“A lot? How?” I pressed, harboring certain suspicions based on what she’d told me in the past but wanting confirmation.
“Too loud.”
My arm tightened around her ever so slightly.
“Too talkative.”
I tightened my grip even more.
“Too chaotic.”
My jaw clenched.
“Sometimes I think people just get tired of me,” she finished with a small shrug, her fingers idly toying with my necklace.
The ensuing silence no longer felt peaceful or languid. Something cold and sharp had settled in my chest. The idea of anyone looking at Addy — my warm, bright, chaotic Addy — and deciding she was too much was so stupid it was borderline offensive.
Without realizing it, my arm pressed her to my side.
“You’re not too much.” My voice was quiet yet insistent.
She huffed faintly. “That’s because you’re biased.”
“I definitely am,” I agreed.
She tilted her head to look at me again, surprise shining in her brown eyes. “You are?”
“Of course I am. You’re mine. How could I not be?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how bias works.”
“It is now.”
Addy studied my face intently. “You’re very intense about this for someone who met me twelve hours ago.”
I scoffed. “Oh, please. We’ve known each other for months now, baby. Don’t belittle what we have like that.”
“So now you’re taking offense on my behalf?”
Addy blinked at me, as though I had said something completely incomprehensible. She would learn in time.
“Of course.” I bristled with indignation.
She laughed softly, but there was an emotional quality to it now.
“I know you’re used to being alone.” My hand rested on her lower back, hovering above her ass. “But you’re not anymore.”
Addy froze again, then looked up at me and stared for a long moment. “That is both sweet and mildly alarming given the circumstances.”
“When I said you belong to me, I meant it. In any way, shape or form you could possibly come up with.”
“Yes,” she deadpanned. “That’s the alarming part.”
I tickled her sides and she giggled and squirmed against me. Then I slid my hand further up her back, my fingers spreading against her spine.
“You will never be lonely again.”
“Sounded a little bit like a threat,” she teased.
I scoffed. “It was a promise.”
It was a promise I meant to keep. Completely and unequivocally.
There was nothing casual about the way I looked at her or about the feelings she evoked in me: flames burning through my veins and consuming every last cell in my body.
“I repeat … we technically met less than twelve hours ago.”
“Don’t. This,” I growled and gestured between us, “this is so much more than what you’re trying to pretend it is, and you know it.”
“You’re already making lifelong promises! That’s crazy.”
“I am,” I emphasized. “And I don’t ever break my promises. You’ll see.”
Addy blinked, watching me for another second, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Okay.”
“Okay?” My eyebrows shot up in surprise.
She shrugged and settled back down on my chest, snuggling up to me.
“Honestly, I’ve made worse decisions. If I’m going to be kidnapped by an escaped felon…” She paused and pressed a kiss to my chest. “At least he’s obsessed with me.”
I looked down at her, my thumb brushing slowly across her shoulder.
“Completely,” I agreed.
Addy hummed faintly. “Good.”
Long after she fell asleep, I stayed awake, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. I memorized the weight of her in my arms, vowing never to let anyone take her from me.