Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
T he man doesn’t stop. It’s one of the things I love about him.
No one cleared him to go home, but there was no way in hell I wanted to spend any time at a hospital. Those clinical, sterile hallways and the scent of things best left alone with every breath… No thanks.
The EMTs pretty much cursed me for using a heavy hand with them, and although it’s not their fault we’re in this position, I can’t let them take him to a hospital. Luckily, Marcus agrees.
Money means I can do what I want, and it’s about time I use that power for good.
The doctor who comes out for an emergency house call tells me pretty much the same thing the EMTs had last night: Marcus needs rest to recover. Keep him confined to a bed, lots of fluids and pain pills for healing, and he’ll be fine.
No permanent damage.
At least, no broken bones that they were able to see, although he could do with an x-ray. There’s no way for them to check for internal bleeding, either, but until Marcus changes his mind, I’m right there with him; we stay home.
Maybe it makes me a shit person for confining him to my bed. Mine, not the bedroom he claimed across the hall.
I need eyes on him constantly to make sure he’s not going anywhere. This is real. He’s here, he’s alive, and he loves me.
It definitely makes me a shitty person when I end up passed out beside him. I can’t even wake up during the night to check on him. The worst nurse in the history of the world.
Marcus is still asleep by the time I get up, the night gradually fading beyond the hills. My head is pounding, my dress is ruined from all the blood, and my feet ache even though I kicked off the heels hours ago.
Still, there’s a certain sense of peace with every step to the espresso machine.
The love I feel, the love Marcus feels, is a warm blanket of safety, cocooning us until the rest of the world disappears. But love isn’t going to give me the jolt in the veins I need to get through today—it will only make every next action easier to take.
My hands tremble, several granules of espresso shaking loose and spilling all over the counter.
It’s done. I swipe the grounds into the sink with a curse.
It’s done, and there’s no going back from what I had River do for me.
Except there’s not a whole lot of anger, the kind I expect to feel. Numbness, sure, and a little bit of shame for the forced hand I played, but there’s not a lot of choice.
I wasn’t going to let them do anything to Marcus. Those goons he got involved with, on my account, weren’t going to let him go without a fight.
So I played my part and made sure any counter moves they might attempt were ineffective. For the first time in a long time, I feel larger than life instead of the small, vulnerable girl I’ve been for so long. Rather than reacting, I took decisive steps to make sure the future is really mine to control.
Freedom. Not only for me but for Marcus.
Haven’t we been through enough?
We deserve our happy ending in whatever form it comes.
I might be taking charge for the first time ever, but it doesn’t make me any better in the kitchen. The scent of burned bread fills the space, and I carry a tray with the ashy edges and coffee back to the room.
Marcus is sitting up in bed with his phone in his hands, scrolling through whatever is on the screen.
“Are you seriously working?”
He glances up at me with one eye nearly swollen shut. The whiteness of the butterfly bandages stands out against the swarthiness of his skin. “Did you seriously make breakfast for us?”
I scoff, determined not to let my nerves show. “It’s not breakfast. It’s just something to take the edge off,” I reply. “I think the best thing to do is call in some delivery. Or we can wait until Mrs. Norris gets here for the day and pay her extra to cook a seven-course meal.”
“Please, don’t start spoiling me now.” Marcus lifts a trembling hand and immediately drops it to his lap. “I’m not sure I’m able to handle much more. You did send a goddamn SWAT team after me.”
The admiration in his tone has me giggling. I set the tray down on my nightstand, spilling espresso in the process.
“Of course I did,” I reply. “I’m not going to go against the Mafia alone. I’m good, but I’m not that good, Marcus.”
His expression sobers at the word, and it kinda lands home how absolutely fucked up this is. People like me aren’t involved with the Mafia. Except I am, by proxy. Because Marcus is involved, and I want him.
We all make our choices. There is no going backward.
“Actually, there’s something I want to show you. I’m not sure if you’ve seen the alerts yet. You were probably about to deep dive into doomscrolling.”
“I literally just picked up the phone. So no, I’m not working. I’m a casual browser this time.” He grips the phone, and I wonder if he’s worried about losing the lifeline.
He won’t need to worry. I’ve got SWAT on speed dial.
I stop at the foot of the bed, indecision weighing me down. I bite down on my lower lip and stare at Marcus. He will no doubt lose his shit when I tell him the next piece of this puzzle.
“You’re not going to feel very casual when you see this,” I admit.
“What did you do?” His voice sharpens.
I gawk at him. “Why do you always think I’ve done something?” He’s right this time.
A muscle at the side of his mouth spasms, the movement causing him to flinch with pain. “Because I know you. I know what you’re capable of doing, and it has to be something for you to look the way you do.”
He does know me. We’ve come too far, been through so many different chapters of our lives together, for him to be ignorant. No matter what he’s pretended to be or feel over the last few months.
There’s always been love beneath it. I know better now.
Bunching my skirt in one hand, I slide onto the bed beside him and take his phone from him, a little surprised he lets me. I flip through to his browser and click on one of the first articles that pops up. With a start, I realize the news is everywhere, my stomach twisting into a free fall.
Which is what River and I wanted, but to see it in front of me now, in real, live Technicolor…
“Look.” My voice shakes as well as my hands. “It’s on the front page of all the media outlets.”
For the second time this morning, the stark realization of my actions is clear. My throat tickles, and I cough to clear it as Marcus presses his index finger to the screen and scrolls.
The intimate bits have been blurred out, thankfully, although it’s impossible not to know exactly what’s going on in every single picture.
Marcus stills, his good eye widening and pulling at the edges of the bandage. “Empire, what the actual fuck?”
His voice is barely above a whisper, and surprisingly, pride spirals in a warm wave through my system, all the way down to my toes.
“I did what I had to do. I gave the media everything.” Or, rather, River did the dirty distribution for me. “It’s all the pictures those people threatened to release. Everything about me. I gave it all away and leaked it myself so the Mafia doesn’t have anything over you or me anymore.”
“It’s career suicide.” He glances over at me, pale faced, staring.
I furrow my brows. “Would you rather be dead? It was an easy choice to make.” Once the words start, it’s impossible to hold them back. “Besides, Celeste is going to jail. There was some pretty damning evidence in the warehouse where they held you. Their terror is done now. They have nothing else on us.”
“And how would you know?” he presses.
“Because the guy who swept the scene updated me.” And sent a quick text to tell me not to worry, among other things. “With Celeste in line for prosecution, I’m canceling my contract for the film, too.”
“They updated you?”
Trust him to snag on one statement and not the meat of the picture. I roll my eyes. “Gosh, you don’t need to sound so shocked, Marcus. I’m not completely helpless.”
He shakes his head, then his jaw flexes, regret for the movement bringing color to his face. “I never thought you were helpless. I’m just… This is a lot to take in.”
“Yeah, well, I can be pretty vicious when my back is to the wall.” I glance sideways at him. “Or when someone I care about is being hurt.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” he replies, clicking the screen off and tossing the phone aside.
“Clearly I do, since you almost died. Do I really need to remind you?”
His lips work before he falls silent. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen Marcus speechless.
I’m not really sure what to say, either. After everything we’ve been through, this moment is touched by the surreal. We’re back in my bed together, the same way we’d lie together when I had a nightmare about the plane crash, and he’d come in to comfort me. Except we’re two different people now.
The future really is open for us, for whatever we want. As long as we’re together.
That point is nonnegotiable, and the sooner Marcus realizes it, the better. I wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt his recovery.
“Did you mean what you said?” I ask suddenly. “In your letter?”
I hate the way a part of me stalls and restarts like a cold car engine. It’s not like I expect him to renege now, but I guess there’s always a possibility.
Marcus groans, shifting slightly to take my hand. He grins at my sudden silence and reads everything he can between the lines. “Yes, I meant it. Every word. Or else I wouldn’t have done what I did to keep you safe.”
“You’ve been insisting on keeping me safe the entire time, but it’s taken this long for me to actually feel it.” His solid presence at my side is a comfort even if I don’t need it right now. Relief loosens the restrictions around my heart.
“You have to know, I meant what I said. Everything I’ve done is for you. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Did you know Jacob was in on it from the start?”
“Not until Celeste showed me the contract. I’m sure you put the pieces together.” He slowly reaches around to pull me against his chest.
There’s no reason for me to tremble this way.
“I really like it when you acknowledge my intelligence. It’s a nice change from the shitty way you’ve been acting.”
Marcus growls, trailing his fingers over my bare shoulder. He clears his throat. “I’m so sorry.”
“Apologies are nice, but they mean nothing without action. I get why you walked away, but damn it, Marcus.”
“Let me get out of this bed, and I’ll show you action,” he murmurs.
Heat immediately curls in my lower abdomen, and I squeeze my legs together. “It’s going to be awhile before you’re able to move.”
Taking the initiative, I climb onto his lap. Panic is close, the thought of almost losing him enough to drive the air right out of my lungs.
But he’s stable and steady beneath my hands, and with the blinds drawn over the window, we’re in our own little world. Isolated and maybe even safe. I press my lips to the corner of his mouth, gently at first. An eclectic buzz zips along my skin as I inhale his scent. Sure, he’s sore and still covered in dried blood, but he’s perfect because he’s alive.
And he loves me.
His hands land on my waist, and I slowly glide my fingers over his shoulders, nibbling closer to his mouth. With a growl, he hauls me against him, and our kiss turns tortuous and deep. A stolen moment of pure bliss because we’re together again.
He slowly tastes me, and a pit opens up in my stomach. It’s all too easy to give in to pure ecstasy.
“I can’t believe I almost lost you.”
“You were never going to lose me,” he grumbles. “No matter what, I was always going to be there with you. Even if I couldn’t be there for you.”
“You are such a dick.” I wind my fingers through his hair and brush my mouth over his again.
His deep chuckle reverberates in my bones as he slides his hands underneath the straps of the dress. “You should have taken the time to change. I’m sure you’re uncomfortable.”
I kiss him again, goose bumps rising along my forearms. “How about we take a shower together? I can wash you and you can wash me?”
There is no going back for us now. Not when I know how he feels. I’m not going to let him pull away from me again. He’s here, warm to the touch and so damn strong, practically vibrating underneath me.
“I love you.” With that, I bend down to touch my lips to his, grinding against the growing hardness beneath me.
The kiss is a promise of now and forever while we’re at it. My heart is so full of fucking hope it’s ready to burst.