18. Devina
The warmth of the morning sun wakes me. My body is sore in the most satisfying way. As pieces of last night begin to flood back, I’m filled with a different warmth. A foreign heat that is quickly followed by uncertainty and fear of this new emotion. He spent hours tracing every inch of me last night. The attraction that I now know is mutual drowned out the world around us until there was only Ryder. Only me. Only us. I learned how easily I responded to his touch. He learned what brought me to whither beneath him and see stars.
I stretch and reach across the bed to find him, only to be greeted by a note on his pillow.
I wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed if I spent another minute in it with you. There is something I have to do. Be home soon. Love, Ryde
Love, Ryde.
Is that what this is? This feeling that is simultaneously causing me to smile like an idiot and bringing on a wave of nausea? I should be happy, but I cringe at the realization that my entire situation has just become so much more complicated. He won’t love me when I kill his father. He won’t love me when he sees me wither away to nothing and the cancer slowly eats at my body. More importantly, I can’t love him. Not in the way that someone deserves to be loved. I’ll be gone soon and I have to finish what I’ve started.
I find my nightgown on the ground and make my way to the guest room to call Taylor from my burner. He answers on the first ring.
“Hey, stranger. How’s married life treating you?” His sarcasm is not appreciated.
“Kicking my ass, Tay. Did you find any dirt? Anything that can help me?”
“Looks like the Cap holds a charity event each year. Ironic. I didn’t know pure evil could be charitable. Anyway, I got hold of one of the invitations. Three weeks.”
“Great, I can wait three weeks,” I say out loud, but mostly to myself.
“What did you have in mind? I can get cameras in place. I have the information for all of the vendors and the location - one of his hotels.”
“Honestly, I can’t think straight at the moment. Give me a couple more days and we can catch up again. We have time.” No, we don’t. I’ll never have enough time.
I stash my burner under the mattress and make my way back to the closet in our room. I’ve been living out of a suitcase for long enough and I’m sure Ryder has a T-shirt I can borrow until the rest of my things arrive. I walk in and the recessed lighting illuminates the space. I’m immediately welcomed with a handful of floor-length gowns in various shades of green. My first instinct is to be jealous that he still has Hannah’s clothes in here, but once I check the tags I know they weren’t meant for her. She was nearly six feet tall and slender. I’m not even five and a half feet after a good adjustment. All of these are my size.
“Ms. Totaro, will you take your breakfast in your room this morning?” I jump at Fiona’s words.
“Jesus, Fiona, you can’t just sneak up on me like that.” My mind must be somewhere else if I didn’t hear her approach.
“He asked me to get you out of that room, you know,” she began, “I have taken care of this family for decades, but you had every right to be cross with him.” she wagged her finger at me.
“Ha, I did, didn’t I?” I laugh.
“He ordered all of this for you,” she says with the tilt of her head in the most endearing way. “He can be a handful, but he has a good heart.”
I don’t know what to say, but I let myself smile knowing she’s not lying. She takes my hand in hers to pat it before turning to leave.
“Hey Fiona,” I run my fingers across the garments as I make my way toward her. She’s seen me now, yet she seemed unperturbed by my mangled flesh.
“Does my arm not surprise you?” I ask.
“Oh no, sweetie. We all have scars, and I’d bet these are the mildest form of yours.”
There is no sympathy, no pity. Just compassion. It would seem that in this house, I am seen. I am wanted. I am accepted without fear of judgment. I nod silently. If I speak, I may just fall apart.
“I’ve brought you some toast, dear. Get dressed and come down to the kitchen. Your husband has left word that he will be home in thirty minutes.” She stops and turns back at the door with a cocked brow, “I believe he is still trying to earn your forgiveness. Make sure he deserves it before you give it.”
She is officially my favorite person.
* * *
After pulling my hair up in a ponytail, I take a quick shower and pull on the softest lounge set my body has ever felt. There were only a few with long sleeves, but it was nicer than anything I had ever owned. My family was wealthy, but Ryder seems to have a completely different level of wealth and it’s apparent down to the labels on the clothes filling the closet.
I make my way down the stairs and head to the kitchen where I find Ryder casually leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee. He’s in a black hoodie and joggers. He looks so different from the suit he wore at our wedding. It’s been only days since that happened, but I’m realizing now that I haven’t spent a whole lot of time with my dear husband.
“You’re wearing long sleeves.”
“You’re observant,” I reply, making my way toward the coffee pot.
“I thought we talked about this last night,” He places his cup on the counter and folds his arms.
“We didn’t do a whole lot of talking,” I reply, looking over my shoulder. Was he going to be one of those husbands who had to control what I wore? The thought sickened me, but I knew that if he was, I’d have to put up with it until I got the job done.
He makes his way to me but doesn’t stop until his body gently yet possessively presses into my back. Trying not to spill my coffee, it takes all of me to repress the urge to press back into him.
“What are you doing?” I demand, setting my mug down, “You’re going to make me spill.”
“I told you not to hide from me.” His breath is warm against the shell of my ear.
“I’m not ‘hiding’ from anyone. I like to cover myself so creeps like you don’t come on to me.” I turn to face him, poking his strong chest with my finger.
“Is that so?” He towers over me, the heat from his gaze slapping me right in the fucking clit.
“Is that so?” He’s amused by my attempt to dig my heels in.
“I wasn’t fucking around, little sparrow.” He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, tossing it on the floor. “Aren’t you going to ask me where I was this morning?”
“Do I need to know?” I’m standing in a kitchen. In a sports bra. The thought of anyone walking in makes me uneasy.
“I think you might want to know.” He leans down and plants a gentle kiss on my lips. I’m not sure where we are going from here, but with thoughts from last night still swirling in my mind, I greedily accept the gesture.
“Well then, the anticipation is killing me. Where were you, Mr. Totaro?”
He takes a step back. With an impish grin, he peels his hoodie off exposing his bare chest and . . . a wrapped left arm.
“What did you do?” The words are barely audible.
He begins peeling the clear wrapping away to expose black ink forming thick tree branches up to his elbow. He reaches for me bringing my arm against his and I see what he’s done.
He now wears a mirrored image of my pain. The permanence is of a nature I possibly return. My eyes are wide with tears, I can’t form words.
“You did this for me?” The weight in my stomach gets heavier. He has no idea how I received my scars. “Didn’t that hurt? Your arm is…. ruined.” I should have forgiven him. I should have just been happy that he came home in one piece. But I didn’t and now… now he looks like me, except the black ink is much more prominent than the faint pink scars on my arm.
“Don’t you think it makes me look tough?” He asks with a low chuckle, but I can’t see the humor in what he’s done. I’m in awe, I’m speechless. “I know yours make you look like a damn warrior. You are not ruined, little sparrow. You are stronger than you’ll ever know. I’m sure the pain I endured is minimal compared to how you received yours.” He runs the palm of his hand over our arms, which for better or worse, now match forever.
“I don’t know what to say.” I finally relent.
“You can say ‘You are the world’s best husband, Ryder, and I am going to reward you with my forgiveness’,” He mocks. For a scary mafia man, he certainly had let down the facade with me.
“You are forgiven.” I can’t help but smile. Placing my hand on his naked chest, I graze my fingers over the ink that was there before he met me. I wonder what story these lines are telling. “But don’t you ever leave me like that again,” An unfair demand, considering I’ll soon be gone and forgotten.
“Never.” He says before bringing his lips to mine, consuming every inch of my soul.
“Good, can I put my clothes back on now?” I ask.
“Not yet, I have one more thing for you.”