19. Chapter 18 Soren
Gin has been staying with me for ten days now, and I continue to find excuses to be around her. I’ve never spent so much time at my place in my life. She has this unmistakable draw to her that I’m unable to ignore. Each night I come to bed once she has fallen asleep, scared I’ll pull her close and kiss her how I really want to. I wake each morning with her in my arms, holding her tightly. In the morning, I have to carefully unwrap her from my grip and sneak out of bed before she wakes. Today is no different.
Having showered, I walk into our room, and she’s still fully asleep. I’ve never met anyone who sleeps so soundly, so deeply, that a train could bust through our room and she would never know. On her days off, she will sleep for twenty hours if I don’t wake her, but the days she works she gets about four.
I open the blinds and turn on all the lights. Annoying her is still my favorite thing to do. I crave her reactions. “Time to do some wedding shopping,” I gleefully announce.
She stirs, stretching her arms, and grumbles something incoherent. “Come on, if you want time to see your mother today, we need to get a move on.”
That has her shooting up in bed. Her hair is wild, looking like a bird nested in it overnight. “Soren, I told you yesterday I planned on spending my whole day with her.”
She shoves the blankets away from her body and rushes to the bathroom. I can’t wait to tell her my surprise. It will be worth her being mad at me right now. The bittersweetness of it creeps in, but I push it away. Her smile will be worth everything, even if it means I lose her living here for now. The wedding is coming up fast; just three weeks away.
She comes out less than ten minutes later, her hair still awry, but piled on top of her head. “Did you even brush your teeth?” I ask, hoping for a reaction.
She glares, pushing past me to grab some clothes from the closet.
“You know, I do have a standard to uphold in public,” I tease her, unable to hide my grin.
She comes marching back out and shoves my chest with her small hands. “Why do you love to torment me?”
My fingers loop a stray hair of hers around my finger. “It’s the only time you give me your full attention.” I love how Gin’s heart is so big. She cares about everyone. There isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her family.
“Are you ten? Grow up, Soren.”
She’s gorgeous when she fights with me, and my cock hardens with a single push from her. My hands itch to cup her face, but it would ruin this thing that’s passing between us right now. Her pretty greens lock on mine, and her breathing hitches as I fall, lost in her. I want to be the reason why she smiles.
My phone rings in my pocket and breaks the spell. She steps away, mumbling and calling me a radiated dolphin. I shake my head with a smile, loving these weird made-up names she calls me because she doesn’t like to curse.
“Cyrus,” I answer, walking out of the room.
“We have a problem with the shipping containers.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh, not wanting to deal with family shit. I glance over at Ginevra, who’s pretending not to be listening. When did work become second in my life? I used to live for moments like these, but now, all I want to do is spend a day with my fiancée. “I’m a little busy today doing wedding shit.”
My brother’s tone turns annoyed. “Jude’s been spilling details on our trade routes to repay his drug dealers.” Fuck me. I move the phone from my ear and tilt my head. I love my best friend, but every day it’s becoming harder to protect him. “That’s not all. Karissa’s father is trying to start a war by saying you killed his daughter.”
“I didn’t,” I reply with a clenched jaw. I step away from Gin, not wanting her to hear our conversation. “I told her to disappear, that’s it.”
“I know. I’m just keeping you in the loop. Our guys have now confirmed he was the one who set up the mugging on Gin. Do you want me to have someone handle him?”
“Tell me where to meet you.” Gin would rather spend the day with her mom, anyway. We can shop another day...
“No, the wedding stuff is more important. We’ll meet tonight once you’re done with Ginevra.”
“Alright. In the meantime, let’s send him a message of our own.”
In pure Gin fashion, we are tasting our tenth piece of cake. Any other person, at this particular store, anyway, is only allowed to try five. “I like the carrot cake.” She finally makes a decision, smiling at me. I hate carrot cake; the cheese cream makes me regret all decisions in life about two hours afterwards.
“I thought chocolate was your favorite,” I challenge her.
She gives me a cute shrug, her thick, dark lashes batting at me, with an innocent smile.
“I don’t care what you pick. I don’t eat dessert.” I look to the lady helping us. “We’ll take it.”
Gin’s delicate touch rests on my forearm. “This is our wedding. We’ll be telling our children about this day for the rest of our lives. You have to eat it. It’s tradition, Poopsy.”
“There’s nothing traditional about carrot cake,” I retort.
She bats those lashes at me again, her hand sliding up my arm. “I thought this wedding was supposed to be special. I’ve always dreamed of the cake-eating pictures.”
“You can choose more than one type. Chocolate and carrot?”
She wrinkles her nose up at my suggestion.
“Fine. Carrot it is.”
She claps her hands, jumping from her seat to give me a hug. Her arms wrap around my neck, her small frame pushed against mine, and I tell myself then and there that the sacrifice was worth it.
“What’s next?” she asks with a genuine smile that has not left her face since I forced her to come with me today. This might be the first time she hasn’t been thinking of her mother or her job. She works way too hard for the stress everyone places on her. She’s the fixer of her family and they always wanting more of her instead of dealing with their own problems.
“Flowers.” My hand presses against her lower back as I lead her out of the bakery.
“What flowers did you choose with Karissa?” she asks, catching me off guard. She looks away the moment I turn to face her.
I open the car door for her then get in on my side. I wish we were on my motorcycle. I much prefer her snug against me.
“You would have to ask my mother. Neither of us cared.”
I focus on the road, but keep watch on her expression out of the corner of my eye. She tilts her head, a frown creasing her forehead.
“You guys didn’t do this?”
“No,” I answer, more harshly than I intended. She leans back in her seat, tuning her head to look out the window. I feel bad for my reaction.
I place my hand on her leg and give it a squeeze. “Karissa and I…that was never like you and me,” I try to explain. I never cared about Karissa, but the thought of another man touching Gin? I go crazy.
We stop at the flower shop and I slip my fingers between hers, intertwining them. Her hand is incredibly tiny in mine. I expect her to pull away, but instead, she gives me a slight squeeze.
“What are your favorite flowers?” I look up at her question. My hand slips from her fingers and I rub at the back of my neck.
“I don’t know.”
“I guess today is the day we’ll find out,” Gin replies.
She holds up what has to be the hundredth flower to my nose and tells me to smell. They all smell the same to me, but I like how she fawns over me as she does it. “What about this one?” she asks, shoving another flower to my nose.
I want to chuckle, but force my face to stay stoic. “Let me smell the second one.” I force a small frown, like I can’t make a decision. I know the one she wants; her eyes keep darting to them.
“Hmmm. What about these?” I pick up the flowers she has been eyeing, the only flower in the place I have not smelled yet.
“Those are not wedding flowers.”
I turn the yellow and red colored flower in my fingertips and study it. “It looks like a bird, but it’s cute.”
“It’s called bird of paradise.”
“I think we should get these.”
“No,” she shakes her head, placing the flower back where I plucked it from.
“Why not?” I could’ve sworn these were the ones she’d jump at.
“They’re my mother’s favorite.”
I place the flower down from where I got it. “Speaking of your mother…” I clear my throat. The doctor I personally hired for her has texted me saying all the paperwork has been completed and she can come home.
“Not today, Soren. I’ve just come to accept that she’s never coming home.”
I raise my hand and she shoves it down, clearly getting worked up. This was not how I foresaw this going.
“Gin.” I grasp her shoulders and turn her toward me. “We’re picking her up today to take her home.”
She blinks at me in confusion, shaking her head, still not believing.
“I can’t deal with false hope,” she whispers.
I cup her jaw with one hand as the fingers on my other trickle over her other cheek. “The infection has cleared. She’s still sick, but she’s healthy enough to come home.”
She sucks in a breath and looks like she’s trying to fight off tears as her eyes sparkle with moisture. “Oh, thank goodness.” She wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face in my chest.
My arms slip to her back, holding her. I don’t say a word, not wanting to say the wrong thing. I’m not typically the sensitive, caring type. These are uncharted waters for me.
“Thank you!” Her voice is muffled against me. I breathe her in and feel my heart shields lowering.
The lady in the shop disappears into the back to give us space. My fingers trail over her back until her breathing becomes normal, and she steps back. My thumb brushes the mascara under her eyes.
“We can do this later. Let’s go pick up your mom.” That pretty smile I love so much lifts her lips.
The moment we step into the hospital room, she hugs her mother. For the first time in her mother’s life since the boating accident, she gives me a grateful smile. I’m used to glares, sly remarks, or rudeness. This is a new side of her, but that’s most likely because I’m doing everything she wants: marrying Ginevra.
I nod my head in return as I watch Gin fawn over her mother. I do my job and pick up the one small bag she has and place it over my shoulder. The ladies ignore me the entire time, not that I mind. I’m oddly disappointed that Gin won’t be coming home with me.
I could make up some reason why her mother has to be there too, but I can’t. I have a thing about people not being in my house. For some reason, Gin never triggered that in me, but I draw the line at having her mother join us.
I open both their doors when we get to their family home, still seemingly invisible if the lack of acknowledgement is anything to go by, but Gin is smiling. Her mother says something and her laugh echoes around us. That laugh, that smile, is the reason I did this. The moment I heard she was in the hospital, I demanded the best doctors and paid them very handsomely for keeping me updated.
I busy myself with my phone, texting my brothers, then the nurse I hired to let her know she’s expected back at the house within the hour. I should have messaged her before we got here. There shouldn’t be too much Gin has to do before the nurse gets here.
Gin has her arm around her mother, leading her toward the house, while I grab the bag to take inside.
I open my mouth to say goodbye, but her and her mother are already inside and have closed the door. I tear my gaze from the door, hating how Ginevra has weaseled her way under my skin, before placing the bag by the door and turn to walk back to the car.
I move my jacket collar up, trying to protect my ears, when Gin’s voice rings from behind me. “Soren.”
“I dropped your mother’s bag by the door.”
“Soren.”
I raise my eyes to hers. She gives me a soft smile and her forehead ruffles slightly. I can’t quite decipher the look she’s giving me.
“Thank you.” She closes the distance between us, going up on her tiptoes and placing a warm kiss to my cheek. My hand naturally rounds her back and pulls her in close.
“You’re welcome.” My voice is gruff, as if I were just waking up. God, I love this girl. Wait, what? I stare down at her, noticing a small freckle on her cheek I hadn’t noticed before.
She lowers to her regular height and steps back, giving me a small wave goodbye, then runs back toward the house.
I stand there, dumbfounded at my realization. I’m going to be marrying the girl I love. I never thought that was in the cards for me. Even my parents had an arranged marriage. They tolerate and care for each other, but I don’t think they love each other.
Gin turns with the door handle in her hand and blows me a kiss. A deep chuckle escapes and I can’t stop the goofy grin on my face.
When I pull up to my house, Jude is standing on my doorstep, smoking. I cautiously step out to greet my best friend, “Pasello, nice of you to finally appear.”
“You changed your locks.”
There was a time I trusted him with that, but now I just stare at him in disbelief. He asks for money, sets me up, disappears, and now he’s acting like no time has passed. “No, just changed your fingerprint out.”
He blows out the smoke he was holding in his lungs. “Same thing.”
“I thought you were fucking dead until you called. The family isn’t happy.” I finish walking up to him and begin to pat him down.
“What the fuck man?”
I’m looking for a recording device, and he jumps away. “You wearing a wire?”
I never thought I would be accusing my best friend of this. It fucking hurts.
“What? You don’t trust me anymore?” He takes off his jacket and lifts his shirt to show he’s not wearing anything.
Jude is getting sloppy. He could have gotten himself pinched, and now he needs an easy way out.
“Don’t you always tell me we’re brothers?” He takes a long drag of his smoke and sits down on my front step. “I’m the one who saved your life ten years ago. If it wasn’t for me, your grandfather would have been helping bury you.” I look down at his pack of smokes. It’s days like today I wish I never gave the habit up.
He’s not wrong, though. I owe him my life. It’s why I let so much shit slide.
“You want a smoke?” he asks.
Yes. “Why are you here?”
His eyes look clear, and he looks better than he has in a while. “I know you’re mad that I fucked up.” He stands and shoves his hand into his front pocket. “I’m trying to make up for it.”
I feel for my gun, just in case. The action kills me, but when Jude is on drugs, I never know what he’s thinking. We used to be best friends, but now I’m not even sure I know the guy.
“Blood in, blood out.” Hearing our motto from his lips is strange now.
“You’re going to fuck up one day and I won’t be able to protect you.” My thoughts drift to Ginevra. She already has so much on her plate with her mother. If something happened to Jude she would be beside herself.
“This is me coming to you with a gift, penance to earn your forgiveness. I took our pound of flesh as payment for your father’s assassination attempt. I blew one of their cars up an hour ago.”
We have been carefully organizing our attack; it’s been in the works for months. I breathe through the pressure in my chest, my nostrils flaring in the process as silent rage begins to fill me. WHAT THE FUCK! Every muscle is strained and I’m barely holding on to control as I ask, “Did Cyrus give you the order?”
He looks taken back by my question and tosses the plastic wrapper from his smokes at my feet. “A thank you should be in order.”
My jaw tickets and I grind my molars back and forth. “We have been handling the Armatos.”
“We should never have to ‘handle them’. We needed to show them who owns this area, no handling necessary.”
I bring my phone out to call my brother.
“Don’t you dare call your brother.” He points to him and me. “We bring in half the income, our training wheels dropped the day our business outperformed his.”
“There is no our business,” I remind him, setting him off like a cannonball. Jude gets right in my face as I continue. “I brought you on. It was me who set up the framework.”
“Fuck you! That’s my father’s patent. It should have been mine,” he yells in my face.
“Jude. That patent is nothing but a shell company. It’s worthless.”
“Then give it back to my family,” he demands, and I shake my head. “I see. Like father like son. Fucking snakes who steal everything from their best friends.”
“Where the fuck have you been the last six months? You’re here for a week or two, then take off for a month or more. You haven’t been working. Who sets up the algorithms? Wasn’t you, when you were snorting coke up your nose. Who worked three jobs, saving money to get this started up?”
“I fucking worked multiple jobs too to feed my family. I’ve never had the luxury of being you.” He pokes my chest.
“Jude, you’re not thinking properly right now.”
“I’m finally thinking clearly.” He shakes his head and spits at my feet. My hand automatically shoots out and grasps him by the neck. I squeeze until his face turns red.
“The drugs are turning your brain to mush. Go to rehab and we can have a real conversation when you’re sober.” His face goes from red to purple Ginevra’s voice suddenly pops into my head. I release him, and he stumbles backwards. Jude’s my best friend, sure, but I was ready and willing to crush his windpipe until I remembered that I could never hurt Gin like that.
“I see you. You only send me away when you know I’m right and don’t want me stepping on your toes as you do what you have to in order to get what you want.”
I bring my gun out, as he’s visibly getting more agitated. I wonder when his last hit was. “You need to leave.”
He steps forward, placing his chest at the end of my barrel. “Stay the fuck away from my sister, too.”
“Not possible. While you were gone, your mother signed a marriage contract between her and I.”
“Why the fuck was I not consulted?”
“You fucked off, remember? Cyrus announced it in a family meeting, and your mother signed it in blood. It’s a done deal.”
“Over my dead body. A thing like this goes through me.”
My possessiveness overtakes my anger. “Oh, I can’t wait to fuck her the day I marry her.”
His eyes widen.
“She would never marry you.”
“If you stuck around, you would know the wedding is in three weeks,” I taunt, pushing my gun into him harder. “You open your mouth again, and I’ll marry her over top of your grave so you have a front row seat.” I hope he doesn’t call my bluff.
He steps back, tossing his empty pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. My gun stays trained on him the entire way. My arm doesn’t lower even as he’s backing out of my driveway. He’s long out of sight when I walk into my house, my gun still tight in my grip.