Chapter 14 #2
“The Golden Girls,” the one that laugh supplies.
“Yeah, that show. She looked like the tall one with the deep voice.”
“Bea Arthor?” Roc asks.
Jim smiles and nods his head. “Yeah her. I told him I might’ve been okay if it were one of the other ones.”
There is a moment of silence before a smile spreads over my face.
“That is funny.” I shrug.
Both men’s shoulders drop as if they are relieved. Pulling my gun out of my holster, I placed a bullet in the forehead of the one that laughed. His body drops to the ground. Jim flinches and shuts his eyes. I guess he assumed he would be next.
“Time and place, muthafucker.” I snarl down at the dead body.
“Saint,” I turn at the sound of Mason calling my name.
His black Rolls Royce Phantom is parked not far behind me.
“A word,” he says before turning and heading back to his car. Grant opens the back door, and Mason climbs in. I was so far in my anger that I didn’t even hear him pull up. I’m not shocked to see him. The moment this shit went down, I knew Mason would find out.
I walk over to the Phantom and climb in behind Mason. Grant shuts the door, leaving us alone in the car.
“Talk,” he demands.
I roll my eyes but slink back into my seat.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Mase. I’m good.” I know he isn’t asking me about the fire. No doubt he already knows everything I do. Mason doesn’t interfere in our business, but like an overprotective big brother, he’s always going to be involved.
“A few days ago, you destroyed your fucking office in the home where your son and wife sleep. Today, you shot an innocent man for laughing at a joke. Don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’re slipping.”
“I’m not slipping,” I argue, running my hand down my face.
Mason watches me closely. His steel-blue eyes narrow at me.
“I think it’s time you go see someone about your—”
“Don’t finish that got damn sentence.” My growl is unmistakable.
Mason knows exactly why that sentence was a dangerous one.
Look, I know I have anger issues. I’ve dealt with this shit since I was a kid.
It’s the reason I found myself in that godforsaken therapist’s office at Bone’s.
But I’ve managed my issues for years. I have tons of ways of controlling my anger.
It’s been difficult lately, but I’ve managed.
“What’s going on? Something has you triggered.”
I want to tell Mase to mind his fucking business, but he’ll only hound me until I tell him. Or worse, start snooping in my business.
I look away from him, shaking my head. “Tiffany is asking questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Shit about my past. Things about my parents and where I went to middle and high school. She says she can’t truly love me until she knows me.”
Mason is quiet. He’s so quiet that I place my attention back on him. He’s watching me, his face neutral, but that’s nothing new when it comes to him.
“When you came to us that night at the club declaring she was going to be your wife, what did I say to you?”
I think back to the day nearly two years ago.
The night I first laid eyes on Tiffany. I swear it was like a dream.
Never had I seen a woman so fucking stunning.
The moment my gaze landed on her unhappy face, my heart started racing in my chest, and I swear the word mine appeared in my head.
I knew at that moment she belonged with me.
“You said I wasn’t ready for what that entailed.”
“And your reply?”
Rolling my eyes, I answer. “That I would give anything to have her.”
He nods as if his point has been made.
“I can’t give her this. I can’t give her what she wants.” Even the thought of telling her about me about…that, has my blood pumping through my veins so loudly it sounds like drums in my ears.
“Why not?” Mason asks, cocking his head to the side.
“You know why. My past isn’t like yours. None of you went through what I did.”
We all had it bad, and we all went through some fucked up shit in that hellhole, but none of my brothers experienced what I did.
The degradation, the shame and the disgust you carry with you after something like that don’t go away with time.
Bruises heal, trust issues resolve, but the shit I encountered stays with you forever.
“You’re right. We didn’t experience the same hurt that you did, but you don’t know enough about our pain to tell us it’s not as traumatic.”
He’s right; none of us has ever truly spoken about what we endured during those three years at that boy’s home.
I saw the bruises and sores on Kazimir. I witnessed the light slowly leave Salv’s innocent eyes.
Spent countless times sitting beside Mason as he battled the darkness that would leave him damn near comatose, but I don’t know their exact pain.
“Sorry,” I say.
Mason waves the apology away. “What that fucker did to you does not define you, Nic. And it will not change how she or your brothers see you.”
I wanted to believe that, but it’s hard when it has changed the way I see myself. I guess he can tell I wasn’t sold on that.
Mason sighs. “You’re going to lose your wife running from your past. The Saint that I know wouldn’t allow that.”
I look down at my hands warring with that reality.
Mason continues. “She’s not asking for everything. She just wants to be let in. Give her something or let her go.”
I thought about Mason’s words for the rest of the day. They repeated in my mind like a loop. “Give her something or let her go.”
I walk back into my house at nearly one in the morning.
The place is quiet. Everyone has gone to bed.
However, a light in the family room catches my attention.
I make my way over to the large sitting room.
Lying on the plush L-shaped couch is my sleeping wife.
On the TV are the highlights of the basketball games from earlier today.
She’s wearing her Knicks jersey with no bra.
A blanket is tossed over her legs. Her mouth is slightly parted, and a little drool is falling onto the pillow.
Her hair is protected under a silk bonnet.
There isn’t a stitch of makeup on her face.
She looks so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at her.
“You finally made it in?”
I spin around to find Tiffany’s mother standing in the doorway, leaning up against the frame.
I turn back to my wife. “Yeah,” I reply, moving the covers off Tiffany. She rolls over onto her back, kicking her leg out and bending the other.
“I think she tried to wait up for you,” Evelyn continues to talk behind me. “I guess that game tired her out.”
I don’t respond. I scoop my wife up in my arms. She snuggles into my chest, only waking slightly before her soft snores alert me she’s gone back to sleep.
“Goodnight, Evelyn.” Without looking back at her, I carry Tiffany through the house toward our bedroom. The bedroom she’s been adamant I stay clear of.
I place her down on the bed before I pull the covers back on her side.
“Tiff, baby, get under the covers.” I shake her slightly trying to rouse her.
“No,” she grumbles, pushing my hand away.
I chuckle before lifting her up and placing her under the covers.
She rolls to her side, tucking her hand under her cheek the same way our son does. I can’t resist those luscious lips that I’ve been deprived of. I place a kiss on her lips. The one quickly turns into four.
“Nico,” she calls out my name.
“Yeah, Angel. It’s me.”
She doesn’t open her eyes as she speaks. “Are you going to leave us?”
Her questions cause the line between my brows to appear. My face is scrunched up like I smell something rotten. How the fuck could she ever think that?
“Probably because you’ve been avoiding her like a fucking plague for the last five days.”
The thought wrecks me with shame. I’ve made my heartbeat believe I didn’t want her anymore. This woman should never question whether I want her.
“Listen to me,” I say, leaning closer to her. “You will never have to worry about me leaving you. You’ve got me forever, baby.”
She’s silent, and for a moment I think she has slipped back to sleep.
Finally, she speaks. “I love you.”
I shut my eyes as I absorb those words. All the bullshit, all the memories and the disgust I was feeling today washes away with those three words.
The heaviness I’ve been carrying the last few days, the roaring in my ears, all seem to dissipate at that admission.
I duck my head, fighting back my emotions.
Lifting to look at her, I kiss her again. “I love you so fucking much.”
I’m greeted by her light snore. I have to laugh. She didn’t hear me, but it’s okay. I say it enough when she’s awake.
Like I do most nights, I crawl behind my wife and pull her into me. I’m an early riser, so I don’t have to set an alarm clock to wake me. I’ll be up before Tiffany, like I do every morning I sneak and sleep with her. She will never know I was here.