24. My Flower
MY FLOWER
DALTON
H er hand feels good in mine. I’m reluctant to release it when we enter the open space of the kitchen, but I don’t fight it when she slips from my grip, pacing away from me. Wiping my palms on my pants, I decide to rip the band-aid off.
“Natalia,” I murmur, waiting for her to turn around. Before I can say the speech I’ve been repeating in my head, she talks over me, brown eyes sparking with anger, holding a glossy sheen of tears.
“What are you doing here, Dalton? I asked for space. This isn’t space.” Her hand waves at the room behind me, where I just know my fucking brothers are eavesdropping. She’s not exactly whispering, putting this whole spectacle on display.
Is this what she wants or needs to feel safe with me?
“I know.” Nodding my head, I inhale deeply, reaching deep for humility, scraping the bottom of the fucking well, because this is hard.
“I couldn’t stay away.” I walk toward her, slowly, watching her pupils expand. “I can’t stay away from you, Nat. I need you, probably more than I need to kill.” Another deep inhale, slow on the exhale. “I’m willing to change, to try and be what you need,” I confess, heart in my throat.
The power to destroy me rests in her fucking palms.
“I just got out of a relationship, Dalton. You’d know, apparently you stalked me and witnessed the whole thing. And you killed him.” She sniffs and I wish I could kill him all over again for bringing tears to my flower’s eyes.
“He didn’t deserve you?—”
“And you do?” she snaps, but doesn’t back away when I eliminate the space between us, wanting to share the same oxygen as her.
“No.” my head shakes. “I don’t deserve you. And my brain is so fucked up, but Nat, I’ll do anything to keep that smile on your face. When you smile, it’s like the fucking sun comes out, warming me on the inside.” Her mouth drops open and I keep going.
“I didn’t know it, but you mesmerized me from the first moment I saw you, captivating me. When I stood in your bedroom, and saw he didn’t appreciate the fucking gift he had, I decided to kill him, not knowing my reasons were purely selfish. He had you and threw it away on some fucking bimbo.”
My flower stares up at me, wide-eyed, mouth held open as I keep going, completely forgetting the speech I prepared.
“I can’t and won’t promise that I won’t fuck up. I will. But I’m willing to do any damn thing for you.” My hands come up to grip her neck, and she lets me, her breath fanning my lips.
“Anything, but let you go. If you want more space, fine, but know I’ll probably camp out on the lawn just to be close to you.” She laughs, a stray tear falling down her cheek.
“All I’m asking for is a chance. An itty bitty, little chance. Give me that and I’ll try to give you the fucking world.” I wait, staring into the eyes of the woman who’s becoming my universe.
One blink, and more tears escape her eyes.
“Thirty days.” She swallows against the thumbs brushing up and down her throat. “Thirty days, Dalton. Convince me in thirty days and I’m yours.” I yank her forward, our mouths crashing together, tongues tangling, and I’ve never been happier.
This. I’d fucking kill to keep all of this. And I will. Pulling away, something moves in my peripheral and I turn in time to spot Zaine giving me a thumbs up and a wink, an arm curled around his woman, who gazes lovingly down at their child clutched in her arms.
This is my family, and I am so fucking happy to have found them.