Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
He froze. He could lie to her. He could remind her of all the good things they’d shared that had nothing to do with whose children they were.
But if he wanted a chance in hell of her staying, he couldn’t dodge this truth.
“You’re right. I picked you because of who your father was and the fact you were burned by Romanov. ”
She sifted her fingers through his hair. “I know.”
“Charlie, I’m sorry.” He went to his knees in front of her, still holding onto her hips.
“I could have found another way, and we both know it. It sounds cliché as fuck, but my motivation changed almost immediately, right around the time we ended up in bed together. I don’t even know how to explain it, but you fit.
You see me in a way that no one else does, and you’re never afraid to push back when I’m being a dick. ”
“Which is regularly.”
For once, he couldn’t read a single thing on her face. Aiden didn’t know if it was shock or if she had written him off right around the time Mae took her. “If I hadn’t—”
“Aiden, stop. As charming as it is hearing you grovel, the truth is Mae taking me had nothing to do with you.”
He went stock-still. “What are you talking about?”
“That vendetta you have against my father? You’re not the only one.
From the sounds of it, he’s managed to piss off every single organized-crime family in a three-hundred-mile radius.
” The corners of her lips turned down. “He never told me. I knew his work was important—dangerous, even—but he never bothered to warn me that it might trickle down to me.”
She looked so damn heartbroken that he pushed to his feet and gathered her close.
“I know this isn’t something I can make right, but I meant it when I said I was playing for keeps.
It’s too fucking soon, but if the last twelve hours have proven anything, it’s that we can’t take a damn thing for granted.
I love you, Charlie. I love your strength and your intelligence, and your wicked sense of humor.
I love that you’re a survivor and it doesn’t matter how hard the world knocks you down, because you come back swinging. ”
“Aiden.” There was a wealth of information in the way she said his name, weary to the core.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, right above one of the cuts.
“It’s too soon. You don’t have to answer now.
Or tomorrow. Or, hell, next week. You’re safe, bright eyes.
I’ll wait as long as you need, and once you make your decision, if you tell me to get lost, I’ll respect that.
” He checked to make sure she wouldn’t keel over and then stood up to turn on the shower.
Neither of them spoke as the water heated up.
Silence continued to reign through the painful process of cleaning Charlie’s wounds and bandaging her up.
Aiden found two sets of clothes laid out on the bed and quickly changed into the sweats and T-shirt meant for him.
He helped Charlie put on a matching set.
She looked like she’d gone through a war—and she had.
“Where do you want to go?”
“My apartment.” She rattled off an address that he remembered from the file Liam had compiled when they first put the plan into motion.
Aiden nodded. “Let’s go.” The sooner they were out of the Romanov residence, the better. He didn’t think Dmitri would go back on his word after enduring so much shit to keep them alive, but he wasn’t willing to risk Charlie on an assumption.
Forty-five minutes later, Mark dropped them off in front of a run-down building six blocks from the bar Aiden had first found her in.
He fought down the instinct demanding that he toss her ass back into the car and drive to a safer neighborhood.
Charlie had lived here for two years without incident.
She was more than capable of taking care of herself.
That didn’t mean he had to like it.
He hesitated in front of the door. “Will you let me check the place out?”
“I’d like you to stay the night.” She shook almost imperceptibly. “Just tonight.”
“Anything you need, bright eyes.”
She unlocked the door to her apartment and let them in.
It was as run-down as the rest of the place, but Charlie had livened it up with bright throws on the secondhand furniture and equally bright prints on the walls.
Her bedroom was more of the same, an orange and white chevron knitted blanket covering the dull gray comforter and making the whole place feel more like a home than just a location where someone slept. “I like it.”
“You’re already categorizing the improvements you’d make—if you wouldn’t buy the whole building and condemn it outright.
” She carefully pulled the T-shirt off and slid the sweats down her legs.
Her body was a patchwork of bruises and cuts, but she hadn’t had any trouble breathing and showed no signs of internal bleeding.
“I should call Doc Jones.”
“I’m fine.” Charlie shook her head and then winced. “Not fine. I’m nowhere near fine. But Mae was careful enough not to do anything that would kill me, and the cuts aren’t deep enough to scar. She wasn’t done playing yet.”
His stomach lodged in his throat. Aiden stripped quickly and pulled down the covers. “Come here.”
She didn’t hesitate. He settled them in her bed, her back against his front, and tucked the blankets up around them. Her little shakes didn’t dissipate for the longest time, but she slowly relaxed, muscle by muscle.
“If you need to talk about it, I’m here.”
“I don’t want to.” She pulled his arms tighter around her. “Not yet.”
“Okay.” There was nothing else to say. Nothing else to do.
Aiden had played every card in his deck, and if he kept pushing her when she was still in shock from being tortured, then he was the worst kind of asshole.
So he held her and murmured nonsense until her breathing evened out and the last of her tension melted away.
He said he’d give her time, and he would honor that. No matter how much he hated the thought of walking away from her, even for a short time. Hopefully, a short time.
Please, God, don’t let it be forever.
* * *
Charlie woke slowly. Every part of her body hurt, but her heart most of all. She kept flashing back to the way her dad had just walked past her in pursuit of arresting Mae. To the fear written across Aiden’s face, which hadn’t gone away, even when he was crawling into bed with her.
She reached out, but the other side of the bed was cold.
Her hand came in contact with her phone, and she pulled it to her face.
Someone must have found it at the warehouse, because she distinctly remembered Mae taking it from her.
It was remarkably blood-free and fully charged.
She had half a dozen notifications, and she scrolled through them without unlocking her phone.
From Keira:
Where are you? Everyone is freaking out and no one will tell me anything.
Charlie, what the FUCK is going on?
Oh my god, Cillian told me. You had BETTER come home safe, goddamnit.
From Carrigan:
James is less than 30 min behind Aiden. I know you won’t get this until after, but keep fighting, Charlie. They’re coming for you.
The last one was from a number she didn’t recognize.
Liam will live. I know you’ll be happy to hear that. He wants to see you when you get a chance. —Cillian
Charlie’s heart beat too hard. The O’Malleys had closed ranks around her. They might not be physically here, but she felt it all the same. Is this what having a family is like?
She tried very hard not to notice that there were no calls or texts from her father. After nearly thirty years, that shouldn’t hurt. She should be used to it by now. Charlie had always come second to the job. Almost dying wouldn’t be enough for her dad to change.
Would he have come to my funeral if I had died? Or would he have just arranged for me to be cremated, and scattered my ashes when he had a day off?
Feeling sick, she sat up. Her thumb hit the screen and accidentally swiped the wrong direction, bringing up the daily news. Charlie was about to swipe it away, but the headline caught her eye:
DIRTY COPS ARRESTED
She clicked the article. Shock grew with each line she read—with each name she read.
Her former partner. The same trio of men who framed her and then beat the shit out of her.
Someone had come forward accusing them of taking bribes from local criminals and stealing drugs from the evidence locker.
“I…What…How?” She finished the article and sat there for a long moment, just thinking.
Somehow she knew that Aiden had to be behind their being arrested.
Justice. She didn’t know if it was something he’d done in the last few days to make up for Dmitri walking free or if it was something he’d set in place the moment she’d agreed to help him.
It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that he’d promised her justice—and he’d delivered.
Without killing anyone.
The last two weeks felt like the most surreal of her life, which was saying something. It shouldn’t be possible to fall for someone that fast.
What she and Aiden had wasn’t perfect, and there were still kinks to work out, but was any relationship perfect? He was willing to work with her and meet her halfway. He challenged her and forced her to be better than she’d been before. It was surprising how well she’d fit into his family.
He was still a criminal. That wouldn’t change.
She stared at her phone. Could she live with that? It went against everything she’d been raised to value.
But the man who’d raised her with those values had left her in the arms of a criminal last night. He hadn’t stopped to ensure that she’d get medical care or to find out what their plans were. Her dad just let them leave.
And the police department she’d spent most of her life admiring had kicked her out on her ass the second she did something they didn’t like.
Every single “friend” she’d had who was a cop had dropped off the map the second the news came out that branded her as dirty.
The legendary loyalty she’d always believed in had dried up and left her totally and completely alone.
Was she going to throw away a real chance at happiness—and potentially doing some good in the world—because of people who obviously didn’t give two fucks about her?
The criminals had shown her more compassion and loyalty than the people on the right side of the law.
They’d been more family to her than her actual family.
And Aiden…
Aiden.
He’d made her feel alive—truly alive—for the first time in as long as she could remember. Her body lit up in his presence, where she felt truly safe. It wasn’t a lie. The world wasn’t perfect, but with Aiden she felt like there was actually a chance she could make a difference. Somehow.
She called him.
Aiden answered immediately. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
“Everything is fine.” Better than fine—or it would be as soon as she saw him again. “Where are you?”
“A few blocks away. I went to grab you something to eat since the only thing in your fridge is a bottle of ketchup.”
Charlie smiled, though it pulled at the cut on her cheek, and settled back against her headboard. “You didn’t leave.”
“Fuck no. I said I’ll give you time, and I will, but it’d be a dick move to disappear without making sure you were good.” There were traffic sounds in the background and the rustling of paper bags. “I’ll be back in five.”
“Okay.” She found a robe that she’d never bothered to use tucked into the back of her tiny closet, and wrapped that around herself, since getting dressed was beyond her at the moment. Then she waited for him in her tiny living room.
It felt like a small eternity before Aiden walked through her door, but it couldn’t have been more than the promised five minutes. He looked tired, scruff on his jaw and shadows beneath his green eyes.
He set two bags and a drink carrier on the kitchen counter and walked over to crouch in front of her. “You okay?”
“Thanks to you.”
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “We went over this last night.”
“Aiden, stop.” She framed his face with her hands. “Did you mean what you said?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He covered her hands with his own.
There were no masks between them this time.
Just the naked longing on his face and her holding her breath, waiting for his answer.
“I love you, Charlie. I’ll give you all the time you need, but I love the fuck out of you, and if you’d go home with me right now, it would make me the happiest man alive. ”
She kissed him. It was the barest brushing of lips, and he let her control every second of it. Charlie shivered and sat back. “Have you seen the news?”
“Yes.” Just that. Nothing more.
She sighed. “Did you have something to do with that?”
“They hurt you.” His green eyes went hard. “I’d prefer them to be at the bottom of the Atlantic, but that wouldn’t clear your name. This will, eventually.”
Once upon a time, that would have been the most important thing to her. It was important, but it had slid down the list. The only people whose opinion mattered to her now were the ones who’d stick with her through the good and the bad—who didn’t jump ship at the first sign of trouble.
She stroked her thumbs along his cheekbones. “This won’t be easy. We’re both too stubborn for our own good, and I’m going to demand we take a page from Carrigan’s book and start to balance the scales a bit.”
He went so still, he might not have been breathing. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you, Aiden. I’m saying that I don’t need time, because all I want is you.”
He looked like he wanted to pull her into a crushing embrace, but he leaned forward and kissed her lips, her jaw, her forehead. “Fuck, Charlie, I love you, too.”
“Take me home.” She slapped his hands away when he went to pick her up. “I can walk this time.”
“Humor me? I want to hold you for a bit, bright eyes.”
She cast him a put-upon look, but she couldn’t hold it, because she was grinning too hard. “How long is ‘a bit’?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Aiden carefully scooped her up like he had the night before, cradling her against his chest. He headed for the door. “How about the rest of our lives?”