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The things Miguel did to get where he was today… the things he’d done to Giselle. I still hated the fact I wasn’t there years ago to save her, that I’d been too busy trying to earn my boss’s respect instead of paying more attention to the girl that now had my heart.
A mistake I would never make again.
And that was why, when Giselle contacted me, wanting to see me, the night before the wedding, I dropped everything to go to her. The planning was done anyway; nothing left for us to do but wait—and if I knew Giselle at all, I bet she was a bundle of nerves.
It was just after seven in the evening when I arrived at the house, the world darkening and becoming one of night. I passed a pair of Serpents having a smoke on the front porch, and when I pushed inside the house, I found Damian doing dishes in the kitchen.
Where would Damian be during the show tomorrow? He’d cover up his tattoos with makeup and join the waitstaff that was supposedly working the reception—the waitstaff which would consist of his own men, once they knocked out the original workers and traded places with them. He’d be watching the wedding from the background, ready to leap into action with a moment’s notice.
Damian glanced over at me when I strolled in. “She’s in her room. She won’t admit it, but she’s a nervous wreck right now, so try not to shoot her again, hmm?” A dick thing to say, but I guess I deserved it.
I said nothing to him, making a beeline to the hallway. Her bedroom door was closed, and I breathed in a deep lungful of air before walking in.
Giselle stood near the window. All lights were off in the room, the only hint of light from the low-hanging moon outside. Her arms were folded over her chest, her body clad in black. With her dyed hair, right then she looked like someone else. She did not turn to greet me. She said not a single word, staring at whatever had her attention outside—or maybe she was just lost in her head, in her own thoughts.
After gently closing the door behind me, I walked over to her. “Hey, Giselle.” I went to stand beside her, splitting my gaze between the dark outside world and the girl that held my heart in her hands.
She didn’t say anything right away. She didn’t even acknowledge my presence. A minute passed, maybe two, and then she finally brought her stare to me. “It doesn’t feel real.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Everything. Everything that happened here, our plan for tomorrow… it just doesn’t feel real to me. Is that weird?” Asking for validation, something that was so unlike her, I had to attribute it to her nerves.
Giselle had been through so much in her life, she wasn’t a girl who needed to be comforted on a daily basis, and yet in this moment, it seemed to be exactly what she needed. So I told her, “No, it’s not weird. Everything has led up to this. It’s like the culmination of your life, all the lies, Miguel’s crimes—”
“Even before I knew the truth, even before everything that happened in Cypress… I wanted to make Miguel pay. It’s what kept me going. It’s like I wanted this so badly, for so long, it just doesn’t feel real.”
“It might not ever feel real.”
She looked back outside, her arms uncrossing as they fell to her sides. “I used to think I’d be happy to die if I took Miguel down with me. There were days when I felt like a zombie going through life, just waiting for the right time, and now that the right time is here, I feel so damned anxious. I can’t shake these feelings, Zander. They’re driving me nuts.”
Even though this wasn’t about me, I found myself whispering, “I’m surprised you wanted me here and not one of the others.”
Giselle chuckled softly. “Out of everyone, you’ve seen the most. You’ve stood by my side the longest. You know exactly who Miguel is and the things he’s done. I figured if anyone could understand me and these stupid feelings… if anyone could make me feel better, it was you.”
The circumstance might not be the best, but hearing that made me feel some type of way. Good. Warm. Like she needed me—and that was a welcome feeling, after everything we’d been through… after what I did to her.
I took a tiny step closer to her, my voice dropping to a bare whisper as I said, “Everything will be fine, Giselle. It’ll all work out. We’ll take Miguel down after he shows his true colors, and once he’s gone, you can breathe freely and never have to think about him again.”
“Once he’s gone, everything’s going to change.”
“True, but change isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Things can change for good. You can do whatever you want, go wherever you want. You can be whoever you want to be.”
A small smile graced her lips, and she angled her head up to me, her hair falling away from her face in the process. “Who would you be, if you could be anything?” The way she gazed up at me made the air in my lungs harder to exhale, like she had full control over me.
But, I supposed, that’s because she did.
“I would be whatever I had to be, as long as it kept me by your side,” I told her, slow in reaching for her hands. No gloves, so I instantly felt the smoothness of her fingertips on mine. She didn’t pull away from me.
“Zander,” she murmured my name, a prayer on those sweet lips, “I really have missed you.”
I inched closer, stepping aside so that her back was now against the window, and I let go of her hands so I could grab her face and tilt it back. “I missed you too,” I breathed out the words, barely able to get them out before I lowered my mouth to hers.
Kissing Giselle was like coming home. There was no other set of lips on this earth that could send shoots of lightning through me and instantly warm my soul. Maybe she was broken, but with me she could be whole. I could make her whole. I would give her the skin off my back if she needed it; she wouldn’t even have to ask.
God, I was so madly in love with this girl, it was ridiculous. I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t see straight, and I sure as hell couldn’t hold back anymore. I would die for her, and she wouldn’t have to ask. I would sacrifice everything I was, everything I would be, in a heartbeat if it meant Giselle would be happy.
The tug of war between our lips ended when I whispered, “I love you, Giselle. I love you so goddamn much.”
