43. Vince
Vince
“Eight days,” I groaned. “It’s too fucking long.” I pulled her back to me, glaring at her phone. “Just let one of them go.”
“You know what that group is like. They are so secretive and no trust,” she laid back down on my leg, locking her phone. “Come on, one last time. You’ve handled me gone for a lot longer. Once it was nearly a month.”
I shrugged. “I can’t do it anymore.”
“So needy.” she took my hand, slowly running her nails over my tattoos. Like normal, she focused on the tattoo of her lipstick.
“Which team are you organizing to go with you?” I waited for her answer, but instead she seemed more focused on my rings. “Madeline. What team are you organizing to go with you?”
“The Huntley’s and their private crew.”
I could feel her eyes on me. I hated them. Fucking loathed their family. But they’d always kept her safe. The one time she nearly hadn’t come home was when she wasn’t with them.
It was so fucking conflicting for me. I felt better knowing they were with her. Yet. I hated them. Their parents murdered my mother. My uncles. My Aunts. Grandmother. All dead because of their family.
Now. The three remaining members of that family tree were responsible for protecting my wife. And they had always done a really good job at it.
I stared at the fire; I wouldn’t blame their family for what I did. But if my father hadn’t lost my mom, I wouldn’t have killed him. The man he was after her wasn’t the man that raised Nik and I.
“And you’re out after this, right?” I looked from the fire to her. “No more warlords, or being the family’s international representation?” I paused, “No more Huntley’s.”
She squeezed my hand. “I’m out.” The corner of her lips twitched up. “My husband is really needy, but I’m worse.”
She knows how to make me weak. “Eight days.” I sighed, placing my empty glass down. “You’ll follow the same rules as last time? Check-ins, trackers, satellite phones.”
“There is more likely a chance something would happen to me here than over there. And you know it.”
Deep down I know she is right, but the thought of her getting hurt at all, let alone out of my reach, just ate at me. It didn’t matter how many trips she did, I never felt better about it. Though, this being the last one, that made this one easier to accept.
Eight. Long. Fucking. Days.
“I have to go,” she tried to kiss me again, but I reached for the door handle, stopping her from getting out. “Vince,” she held my face, “I have to go.”
I glared out the tinted windows at the airplane. “Eight days. Promise me not one day longer.”
She gently kissed me one more time. “I promise.”
“You’ll call me when you land.” I traced her cheek. Normally I can control my anxiety about her leaving better.
“I will, and you can watch me, remember?” she kissed me again. “Now, you have to promise me you won’t be reckless while I’m gone.”
“I’m never reckless.”
“One time, you blew up a construction site over a minor miscommunication.”
I shrugged.
“Promise me you won’t be reckless, grumpy and you’ll sleep.”
I won’t sleep. I could guarantee I’d be in a foul mood until she got back and as for me being reckless. Well, she and I always had a different opinion on what that meant.
“Okay,” I sighed, letting go of the door handle.
“Hold on to these for me,” she handed me her rings. “I am not risking them getting stolen.”
It took all my self-control not to pull her back into the car for a fourth time. This time, I let her kiss me and leave. As soon as she closed the car door, I felt uneasy, too much distance between us.
It only got worse as I watched her walk up the stairs.
Turning her rings in my hand. Eight days. We had done longer.
I hadn’t eaten. I couldn’t sleep.
One more day. I had to survive one more day until she was back.
Every day was painfully fucking slow, since I found that pregnancy test in the bin. Fucking positive.
“So, what the fuck was more important, Nikolai?” I stopped at the traffic lights. “Nothing is worth missing your doctor’s appointment, and you know it!”
“Maybe I should take it up with the medical reception for breaking my privacy? They had no right to call you.”
“I don’t pay them extra every week, not to call me when you miss appointments.” This habit he had of causing me undue stress. “I have enough on my plate without you having a third heart attack.”
Glaring at the red traffic light. Fucking positive. A positive fucking pregnancy test.
“I’ve booked back in. It’s not a big deal.”
“I know, we’re going tomorrow,”
“Unfucking believable. I have a casino to run, drugs to distribute. When is Maddy back so you can stop annoying me?”
The lights went green.
“She’s back tomorrow night. Your appointment is at nine in the morning. I’ll pick you up.”
One second, I’m listening to Nikolai's empty threats, the next I’m blinded by bright lights of a truck. Coming at me so fast, I didn’t have time to put my foot down.