Chapter 22 #3
“We were in the process of buying an abandoned building,” he explains, his fingertips still brushing over my face, causing my arms to prickle.
“When I went to check it out, a fire broke out on the second floor. My father called 911, and we were waiting for them to show when I heard what sounded like a baby’s cry. ”
His eyes drift shut, and he inhales long and deep.
“We heard that squatters sometimes stayed there, so I had to go in,” he tells me once that dark, hypnotizing gaze is on me once more.
“I couldn’t risk a baby dying while I just stood there.
So I rushed in, even as my father yelled at me to stay.
I took off my jacket and covered my mouth with it.
She cried louder, and I followed the sound up the stairs, barely finding them at first because the smoke was everywhere at that point.
And when I reached the second floor, she had stopped crying, and my heart… fuck…I thought she was dead.”
His eyes grow foggy, emotions flashing within them, as though he’s there, in that exact moment.
“But I kept going even as the smoke burned my lungs. I needed to make sure she was still alive. And that’s when she started crying again.
” He sighs. “My feet started moving even faster, following the noise. I was surviving on just the adrenaline alone. But I found her, next to who I later found out were her dead parents.”
“Oh my God.” My hand clasps my mouth. “Did the fire kill them?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “The needles in their arms did.”
“So sad.” I bite into my bottom lip.
“Yeah, she deserved better. By some fucking miracle, she wasn’t harmed. Not even the smoke could hurt that girl. She’s the fire that’ll burn the world to the ground.” He laughs fondly. “She may not share my blood, but she is every bit my baby girl.”
Tears swim in my eyes. “She’s lucky you found her.”
His thumb swipes under my lower lashes, taking my tears with it. “No, she’s the one who found me.”
And the way his gaze penetrates mine, I’m not sure if he’s talking about Sophia anymore. I swallow through the butterflies skittering up my throat, because whatever I’m feeling, I shouldn’t be.
But all I’m doing is denying what I already know: I’m starting to feel something for my husband.
My fingers trace the scar on his face as his gaze grows heavy-lidded. “How did you get this?”
“As I was coming down with her, that little girl tucked inside my jacket, something fell from the ceiling. I saw it, just as it was about to hit us, so I sidestepped and tripped, landing on something else that burned me.”
Wow. He really is a hero.
“I’m sorry.”
“You find it repulsive?” His voice drops and its utterly devastating, like he really thinks it is.
“No,” I say, looking right at him. My lips slant to his cheek, and I kiss him there. Once. Twice. “I find it beautiful.”
“Elsie…” he groans on a whisper, his palm rolling up my back, fingers buried in my hair, tugging it. “How do you do that?” His tone drops.
“Do what?” I whisper, my body alive again, my heart following in its wake.
This man…he burns my world to ash and builds it up again into something I never thought could be mine.
“Make me want something I’ve denied myself for so long.”
His lips cut through our distance, so close I taste the lingering trace of whiskey on his breath, feel the trace of his mouth brushing up against mine.
But with a harsh swell of his lungs, he drops his forehead against my temple and sighs, like kissing me is the only thing and the last thing he ever wants.
Like he’s fighting a war just to stop it from happening.
“After our deal is done, I’ll fly you to your parents, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
My heart lurches at the thought of never feeling what I do right now, and sadness grows within my chest. Is that what missing someone who’s right in front of you feels like? This emptiness?
What happens when I leave them? Will I really be able to stay in touch with Sophia? Will that be enough? I’ll be with my parents, miles away. I’ll never see her. See him. And it already hurts.
“Okay,” is all I can manage.
Because he can’t be the one for me, not in this life. No matter if my heart is telling me to try. To get to know him more.
It’s as though I’m split in half. One part wants to stay, while the other…she wants to be free, to find her family, her friends. To be with them again. To escape the danger that comes with a man like Michael.
He can’t be my safety. No matter how good it feels to be with him.
Staying with a man who belongs to the type of family he does is like being part of everything I hate.
He may not have done what the Bianchis have, but his family is connected to that life, and I should want nothing to do with any of it.
But as I close my eyes and see myself with those I love, it’s as though a piece of my heart is back with him—and with Sophia, that little girl who’s more than grown on me. I care deeply for her, and I’m afraid I’m starting to care deeply for her father too.