38. Madeline
Madeline
I checked my lipstick in the mirror before walking out of the dressing room. My heart beating faster seeing Vince asleep.
I walked to his side of the bed. It felt wrong to just leave without telling him. Even though waking him felt unfair. Leaving and not telling him felt worse.
“Hey,” I touched his cheek, watching him wake up.
He seemed confused at first.
“I’m leaving and it felt wrong to not tell you.”
“What?” He frowned. “What time is it?”
“Nearly six.”
“In the morning?”
I nodded.
“Come back to bed.” He reached for me, and I grabbed his hand.
“I can’t. I have to meet my uncle at the airfield.” It was the first time he asked me to accompany him on a trip since Dad's death. I couldn’t cancel.
“Fuck that. Give me my phone. I’ll tell him no.”
“I’ll be back tonight.” I ran my fingers over his knuckles before kissing the back of his hand. “I love you.”
He seemed stunned as I pulled back.
“Go back to sleep.” I grabbed my phone off the bedside table. I was already late.
My brain was on autopilot all day.
I’d never been more grateful for a straightforward negotiation. Even my uncle was in a good mood, not arguing the point.
I wasn’t sure why Uncle Cole even asked me to come. Until he started drinking, and heavily apologizing for what happened.
I’d never seen him so emotional. Apparently, he had guilt for not stopping my mother. A part of me believed him, another part of me, knows he did blame me. At the time, he wanted me to be punished.
Now that he wasn’t blinded by grief and anger. He was seeing perhaps things went too far.
Perhaps I didn’t deserve months and months of her mood swings. Hitting me one second, then pretending nothing happened the next. Every hour, she was completely unpredictable.
I kept thinking things would get better. The worse form of self-harm is waiting, expecting more from someone who will never give it.
I hadn’t realized how bad things got until I moved back to Vinces.
Every time I heard a door open, I jumped. Every time he moved out of the corner of my eye, I flinched.
I fought back the tears as I stared at my phone. Twenty past ten at night. Any chance of me making it home disappeared when my uncle started drinking.
Yawning, I pressed Vince's name before holding the phone to my ear.
I took my heels off before laying down on the hotel bed.
“Madeline, I’m starting to get worried. Where are you?”
Closing my eyes. “I’m stuck here. My uncle started drinking, and sent the pilot home, without telling me.”
Even though he was silent, I could hear his frustration.
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, my love,”
“Still, I’m sorry.”
“Where are you staying? Do you need me to organize a hotel? What town? We probably have a house there.”
“Funny you said that. I can see a Crow Hotel from my window.”
“Staying at our competitors?”
“The host organized it. It wasn’t the time to decline,” I rolled onto my side, staring at the flagship crow emblem on the building. “The Classic is extremely impressive.”
“I know. I built it.”
“My husband is so talented.” That warm feeling flooded me again, just thinking about him. “I promise to be back tomorrow. It won’t be until the afternoon. My uncle never fly’s early when he is hung over.”
“Did your security check the room?”
“Yes, and now two are posted at the door. I’m safe.”
He sighed, “Sleep well, my love. I’ll see you soon.”
“Goodnight Vince.”
Ending the call, I rolled over. Not even sleeping in my dress, or a hotel bed. Could keep me from falling asleep.
My grip tightened on the gun under my pillow, moving my thumb over the safety. Just as I felt the bed dip, I opened my eyes.
The spike of panic disappearing.
Vince.
“What are you doing here?” My voice was muffled, watching as he got into bed next to me.
“I missed you.” He kissed my forehead, pulling me to his chest. “And I didn’t want to sleep without you.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s late,” His hand ran down my back, “you’re still dressed.”
“Didn’t have the energy to take it off.”
He pushed the covers back.
“Don’t break the zip. I didn’t bring anything else to wear.”
Rolling over, as he unzipped the dress. Pulling it free. Immediately, I was more comfortable.
I pushed back into him, resting my head on his arm.
I let him take the gun from my hand. For the first time, I didn’t feel a need to have it within reach while staying at a hotel. Not when he was right next to me.
Vince was sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel around his waist. Talking to Nikolai on the phone.
I gripped his shoulder, sitting over his lap.
Seeing him naked should not have such an affect on me.
Seriously, couldn’t Nik talk to him later? Running my nail under his necklace before kissing the faint scar on his chest.
He undid the front of my towel, pushing it off me. That drunken look of possession in his eyes really did crazy things to me.
If he thought we were leaving this room without him fucking me. We were going to have an argument. I reached for his free hand, taking his finger in my mouth. Then a second.
I frowned, seeing my lipstick mark from yesterday still on the back of his hand, near the edge of his thumb. How hadn’t that come off in the shower?
Taking his fingers out of my mouth, I looked closer.
My heartbeat suddenly quicker. He had gotten it tattooed. In the exact shade as my lipstick. The red ink stood out against all his black tattoos.
He nipped my bottom lip.
I was so focused on the tattoo. I hadn’t even heard him end the call.
Before he could deepen the kiss and end my ability to think, I put my hand on his chest, pushing him back.
“Did you get my…” I stared at the tattoo again. Suddenly, my words disappeared. It wasn’t even a perfect shape, slightly smudged at the corners. Why wouldn’t he have told me so I could have got a perfect shape for him.
Though why had he got it tattooed in the first place. I had always kissed his hand, and I had left a lot of lipstick marks on him over the years.
He pushed my hair back. “I wanted to remember it.”
“What?”
“The first time you said you loved me.”
I went immediately weak; a warm rush went through me. It was suddenly a lot harder to think.
“My love, are you speechless?”
I slowly nodded, my throat dry. He had… he had tattooed my smeared imperfect lipstick on his hand because of that. Because I said I loved him.
Holding his hand, I slowly traced my nail on the edge of his thumb, staring at the new tattoo.
His only colored tattoo.
He kissed my shoulder.
“Haven’t I said it before?” I asked, surely, I had told him.
He stilled one look and I realized I hadn’t. How had I not said it all these years. Moving closer to him, I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him. At first soft, then harder. I pulled back, breathless. “I love you.”
He flipped me on my back. “The twin’s resort is opening next weekend.” he kissed my neck. “Come with me?”
I nodded before kissing him again.