5. Dante
Dante
Twenty minutes later, Finn, Mac, and Ronan have been given the CliffsNotes version of our pasts and what we currently do as The Horseman, bringing us to the present day just as the Chinese food is delivered.
“I’ll go get her,” I say, quickly volunteering to go get Joe from Sebastian’s room.
The door to his room is halfway open, and I can hear the sound of Chris Stapleton’s voice singing “Tennessee Whiskey” softly playing from her phone.
Entering the room, I close the door behind me and walk toward the partially open bathroom door, where I can see Joe’s reflection in the mirror.
Her black strands are perched in a ridiculously messy bun on top of her head, which is resting back against the edge of the tub.
Her eyes are closed as she quietly sings along with the music.
And, despite the traumatic events of today, she looks entirely relaxed.
I swear to god, I could stand here and stare at her like this all day.
From the moment Clara put that envelope in my hands, I was terrified at the thought of never seeing her again.
Every cell inside of me wanted to wreak havoc on the streets of this city until I found her.
To kill anyone that got in my way. To go off on my own and not stop until I found her and Sebastian.
The thought of something happening to them made me want to slip into the darkness and never come out.
But that burning desire only lasted for a split second, and then I remembered who the fuck we were.
The Horsemen.
And there is no place that anyone could have hidden them that we wouldn’t have found.
Enzo, Luca, and I would have searched the deepest corners of hell to have brought them back to us.
Thankfully, the furthest we had to go was The New York Bay.
This time.
As the song enters its bridge, Joe starts to sing along, and as her slightly raspy voice hits my ears, it’s almost as if I can physically feel the sound working its way through my body before making a place in my soul.
And as I stare at her, letting the essence of who she is seep inside the very fiber of my being, I’m struck with an entirely unfamiliar, unavoidable feeling.
Because here she is, this incredibly smart, strong, brave, resilient, and beautiful woman, who has created a life for herself that others could only dream of.
One that she had to crawl out of the deepest of trenches to obtain…
and yet… here she is. With us. Four men who she should have stayed as far from as possible.
But instead, she sees each of us for who we truly are, not just the people that the world sees plastered across magazines or walking down the halls of Vittori Enterprises, and definitely not just the people who we hide from the rest of the world.
She sees us for us, and she isn’t afraid.
Here she is.
Just a floor above the man who made her childhood a living hell. The man who has made it his life’s mission to disrupt her happiness whenever possible. The man who kidnapped her for god knows what reason. The man who, despite everything that has happened to her, she’s nothing like.
Here she is.
Relaxing in a bubble bath, listening to one of my favorite songs of all time, with dried blood on her cheek and a spine made of steel.
Here she is.
My brave girl.
My beautiful, strong, brave girl.
And when her steel gray eyes finally open and meet mine, she doesn’t jump in fear. No. She smiles warmly up at me and motions for me to come closer with her finger.
It’s in this moment that I know that this feeling, one I’ve never felt as deeply for another person as I do right now looking at her, will be one I’ll never be able to recover from.
Pushing the bathroom door open the rest of the way, I go to her.
Like I will until the end of time.
Sitting on the edge of the bath, I cup her cheek with my hand, lightly brushing the pad of my thumb across the cut on her cheek. “Hey, Mama.”
“Hey,” she says as she gently wraps her hand around my wrist and says softly, “I’m okay.
It’s just from a piece of glass on the ground when he pulled me out of the car.
” I try to rein in my anger as the image of her being dragged across the ground plays in my mind.
“Honestly, it’ll probably make me look cooler than I already am when it scars. ”
She winks in an attempt to calm what I’m sure she knows are my racing thoughts. “You don’t have to worry about it scarring. Doc’s the best at what he does.”
“Well, damn. Maybe I’ll just have to get in another fight,” she says, giving my wrist a gentle squeeze.
“Not on my watch you won’t. Let us do all the fighting for you from now on, okay?”
She chuckles softly. “Not likely. But you can try.” Suddenly her eyes go as wide as saucers, and she asks, “Please tell me I smell lo mein?”
Now it’s me who lets out a low chuckle. “Sure do.” Standing up, I quickly grab the towel she has lying on Sebastian’s sink and hold out my hand. “Come on. Let’s get some food in you.”
Joe stands from the tub, and I take my time watching as each bubble and drop of water cascades down her perfect body and into the tub below before she carefully steps out. I wrap the towel around her, then wrap her in my arms. “Always so eager to take care of me, Dante DeLuca.”
I want to say it. Right here. Right now.
I want to tell her how much she means to me, but something is stopping me.
I’m not sure whether or not it’s my innate fear of not being able to love her the way she deserves, the fact that all four of us are clearly never returning to a life without Josephine Jenkins at the center of it, or because falling for someone as intensely and as deeply as I am for her means I also have to fear the thought of it all being ripped away from me.
And out of everything that has happened to me in my life, I’m not sure that’s something I could come back from.
So instead, I don’t say it. Not now at least. Instead, I kiss her deeply, pouring all of the unsaid words I can into her. And when the kiss is over, I whisper against her lips, “Always, Josephine Jenkins.”
“Thank you for helping them today,” Josephine says softly as she hugs Ronan goodbye. “For saving me.”
Mac, the big lovebug he is, steals her from his big brother and wraps her in his arms. “Whenever you need us,” he says as he holds her.
In any other circumstance, the sight of her touching another man who isn’t Seb, Enzo, Luca, or me would be enough to have me clenching my fists.
But the four of them are so deeply in love and obsessed with their wife, Harper, that there is not a cell in my body that is even the slightest bit worried.
Actually, it makes me feel that much better knowing she has three more people that would go to bat for her.
Three people who would drop everything to ensure she’s okay.
There may have been a time where I thought they were doing this simply because we helped them find Harper all those months ago, but as I watch them watch her, I know that they mean every word.
Once Mac finally lets her go, she makes her way over to Finn, who hugs her just as deeply before leaning back and holding her gently by the forearms. I don’t miss the way Finn’s eyes dart to the cut on her cheek before he smiles softly. “Didn’t stand a chance, did he?”
She beams up at him and winks. “Most of them don’t.”
“Should have you come over and give our girl some lessons,” he replies.
“I’d love to,” she answers proudly. “If that night at Kings was any indication, I’m sure she and I would get along just fine.”
“That’s what I’d be worried about,” Ronan says under his breath, and we all smile.
“I’ll get her number from the guys, okay?”
“You got it, Milseán,” Finn says as he gently rubs his palms up and down her arms.
Luca steps forward and wraps his arm around her waist before pulling her back toward us. With the raise of a brow, he asks, “What was that you called her?”
Despite everything in him, I watch as Ronan rubs a hand across his jaw, trying to cover the shit-eating grin covering his face.
“Guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.
Serves you right for this dickhead always calling Harper, Bella,” he says while pointing at Enzo.
Ronan claps Luca on the shoulder before the three of them turn around and head toward the elevator.
They offered to stay and help us deal with John, but we could tell they were anxious to get home to Harper.
We told them we’d call them when we needed their help after they insisted we at least keep them in the loop.
“Tell Harper to keep an eye out for my text,” Joe says, calling after them.
“Will do, Milseán,” they all say in perfect unison as they turn to face us in the elevator. And just before it closes, Ronan sticks out his middle finger and says, “Bye, Brother.”
And after the colossal shit-fest of a day, and despite the fact that we still have no idea what the fuck is really going on, the five of us stand in front of the elevator, laughing until our sides hurt, and at the center of it all is her.