32. Time to stake a claim
THIRTY-TWO
TIME TO STAKE A CLAIM
“Are you sure about this?”
I tuck my arm through Shay’s. “It’s a little late to ask me that.”
“It’s not like I had an opportunity before! There’s still time to get it annulled.”
“Why would I want that? I’m the one who asked for this to happen tonight. I’m the one who insisted.”
“I’ll never understand you.”
“You don’t have to. You just have to accept me.”
“I did that the first time you told me lover boy gave you a head and that you didn’t automatically sign up for lifetime therapy sessions.” He wrinkles his nose. “I just thought you’d grow out of your crush.”
“Like you’ve grown out of crushing on Katina?”
“We don’t speak her name!”
I pat his cheek.
“What do I tell the family?”
“That I’ll call them tomorrow.”
“You’re going to tell them you’re married, right?”
“Of course. The whole point of being his wife is for New York to know.”
When he frowns at me, I shake my head, not in the mood to deal with censure, but slowly, he murmurs, “I never wanted you to join the Veronians.”
“I know you didn’t. But I chose to.”
“It’s one thing to get into bed with them, but the Russian Mob too?”
“I’m back where I’m supposed to be.”
“Lies. You were out of that world—”
“I wasn’t. I was Irish Mob-associated, Shay. That’s no protection.” And didn’t I just experience that first-fucking-hand?
I’m not my sisters. The world knows who they belong to.
Me? I was alone.
Not anymore.
The Veronians won’t dare touch me after what Maxim will put them through for their audacity.
“You do love him, right?” he asks in a quiet voice. “This isn’t about… protection? Because if it comes to that, we can get this marriage annulled and you and I can—”
Touched, I hold up a hand to stop him from finishing that sentence. “You already know the answer to that.” I meet his gaze and enjoy the sharp inhalation as he correctly interprets my expression.
But that right there is why he’s my best friend. I know he loves Katina. I know he’s waiting for her to grow up, yet he’d throw it aside for me.
“You’re exhausted.”
“Yes, Dad. I know. Exhausted but I didn’t have a heart transplant. You know how I’ve felt. For the longest time.”
Of course, being a boy, he ignores that. “He better let you sleep. Do you think I should talk to him? Man to man?”
I cough out a laugh. “Yeah, no. Just leave him to me. Anyway, you two are going to have to get along better now.”
“Says who?”
“Says me. My BFF cannot hate my husband.”
“So long as he treats you right. That’ll go a long way to earning my forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness for what?”
His lips quirk. “Existing.”
I shove his arm. “Don’t be a jerkface.”
A hand slides around my waist. I’m dragged, promptly, against a very lean, very muscled side, and a soft rumble inquires, “Who’s a jerkface, pchelka?”
Shay pshaws. “I’m going.”
“Wait—home? Or Poughkeepsie?”
“Home first. Kat needs my help.”
“Oh, she does, does she?” I waggle my eyebrows at him just to watch him blush.
“Shut up. She’s working on that family tree project Mrs. Bavaro sets in school.”
I mock-retch. “I hated that project.” And Mrs. Bavaro.
“You went to the same school?” Maxim asks.
“Yeah. It’s this private educational stronghold where kids of the Irish Mob rub shoulders with politicians.”
“To be fair,” Shay points out, “the politicians are more corrupt.”
I clap my hands in agreement but change the subject. “Why does she need help?”
“You know how convoluted her past is. Plus, what she found… she doesn’t want to talk to Star about it. Says it’ll rake up shit, and she’s not wrong. Anyway, you want me to run interference with the ancient ones?”
“Yeah, just for tonight.”
“Sure. Will I lose my hand if I try to hug you?”
“No. He won’t, will he, Maxim?”
Maxim grunts but detaches himself from me.
“Just be happy,” Shay orders.
“I will.” I whisper the words in his ear as I squeeze him tightly. I dot a kiss on his cheek. “You’re allowed to be happy too.”
“You know how it feels when what you want the most is impossible.” He releases me and sticks out his hand for Maxim. “I look forward to getting to know you better.”
I squeal. “My two favorite boys are playing nice!”
Maxim grunts but Shay gags before making his departure, yelling, “You had to make it weird!”
Cackling, I watch him stride over the sidewalk to his baby and wave before he jumps behind the wheel.
Retreating a step, I bump right into Maxim, who, with minimal maneuvering, shuts the door. When his arms slide around my waist, I sigh, relieved that he takes my weight.
“Are you hungry?”
“I guess.”
He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Go upstairs. I’ll have food brought to our bedroom.”
Our.
I didn’t know I could love a possessive determiner as much as that one.
Our.
We’re an “our” now and we share a bedroom and… I need to stop before I squeal again.
I’m a wife now. I have to be serious.
Ha.
“You sure?”
“Yes, wife.”
“Okay, husband.” I tilt my head so I can peer at him. “We’re married.”
“Regrets?”
My glower is instantaneous. “No.”
“Good.” That earns me another kiss. “Just checking. It hasn’t happened in the most auspicious of circumstances.”
I switch to Russian. “I disagree.”
His smile’s smug. “Upstairs with you. I’ll be there shortly.”
That’s the first lie he tells me in our married life.
It’s just before eleven when I strip out of my dress, toss it on the floor, then crawl onto the bed.
I don’t even realize I fell asleep until I wake up to the sound of running water.
The lights are off and a quick glance at my phone, which is on a dock on the nightstand, tells me it’s 2:30 AM.
Pouting at the fact he let me fall asleep, on our wedding night of all nights, I yawn. Then, seeing I have a lot of messages from Wynter, starting with questions about my dislike of Nyx onto her hatred of Dyers, then her concern for my wellbeing as days of no contact continued, I’m quick to answer:
Me: I’m fine Sorry for the delay in getting back to you. It’s been kinda intense since your mom got me out of jail
Me: Talk about a girl boss!!
Wynter: Thank fuck you’re okay! I was so scared when I didn’t hear from you!
Me: What did you tell your mom? It seemed like she knew about the Veronians
Wynter: I told her it was like a sorority. That initiation was how we met. That they were making us jump through hoops to pledge
Me: Oh. Understatement
Wynter: Yeah. After acting as your attorney, I don’t think she believes me
Me: It’s okay if you talk to her about it, Wynter. I discuss stuff with Maxim. Even better, you have client-attorney privilege
When she doesn’t reply, I type out:
Me: I have news. Tell you in the AM?
Wynter: Definitely
With another yawn, I stare at the ceiling, contemplating my next move and the fact I’m still a goddamn virgin.
“There’s nothing for it,” I say to myself, voice like gravel. “Payback is definitely required.”