“I can’t promise to always protect you, but I promise you a lifetime of sunshine.” I drift my loved-up gaze back to Rico. “I’ll be your light in a life full of darkness.”
We recited similar vows to each other when we wed in that very chapel an hour later. . .
Blood surges into my heart as my newly discovered memory plays on repeat. No matter which way I play it, the facts never alter. I truly don’t believe it was a drug solely leading my decisions last week. Although I acted a little riskier than normal in my flashback, my decisions appear lucid and clear. I’m not slurring my words, and I don’t seem heavily intoxicated. I’m just the carefree version of me that usually comes out when Lacey and I share a few glasses of wine. I also seemed happy—truly and utterly happy.
Swallowing down the bile tarnishing the back of my throat, I pop my head off Rico’s chest and peer into his eyes.
“It was all me,” I mumble, still shocked by my audacity in my flashback. “Our tattoos, our wedding, everything was my idea.” I bounce my shocked eyes between his. “Why did you go along with it? I was a stranger to you mere hours before.”
He rubs the back of his fingers across my cheeks, removing the last of my tear stains. "When an angel falls into your lap, you don't make her wait, you grant her every wish."
Even in the awkwardness of the moment, he reassures me it wasn't the drugs in my system steering my moral compass last week. It was him. He's a stranger, and at times, he scares me more than any man before him, but there's something about him I'm drawn to. I don't know if it's love like I declared to him last week, or because I have the urge to protect him as he guards me, but I know deep in my soul that there's something greater between us than just a drunken mistake.
Snubbing the shake encroaching my hands, I cup his jaw and stare into his sable eyes. “I wish for us to leave this lifestyle,” I mutter, allowing my heart to talk for the first time the past week.
The quickest flare of emotion brightens Rico's dark gaze. "If that were a possibility, Kitten, you wouldn't be here. But I can only grant wishes, not miracles.”
My shoulders slump as an upwelling of tears floods my already swamped eyes. The only thing that holds them at bay is when the entirety of his reply replays through my muddled mind.
“Me or us?” My voice is high with confusion.
He locks his hard-set eyes with me. “You, Kitten. I can’t leave until I get answers.”
I fall backward until my backside is resting on the balls of my feet. “When you get your answers, will you leave then?”
I hold my breath in hope, even knowing he can’t give me the answer I'm praying for. Fear curls around my throat when he shakes his head.
“There's only one way I can leave this family, Kitten, and I wouldn’t be breathing.”
Chapter 14
Ilift my groggy head from the pillow when the creak of a door sounds through my ears. My half-asleep eyes widen as I scan the unfamiliar room. Unlike last week, this time it doesn't take me long to gather my bearings. It isn't just the familiarity of the room or the fact I've once again woken with a thumping skull, it's the smell of a delicious spicy scent lingering in the air.
When the distinct noise of a shower turning on sounds through my ears, I crank my neck back and peer towards the bathroom. Not surprisingly, the door is closed. My lips quirk when my eyes catch the time on the bedside clock. It's a little after 6 AM. I didn’t realize Rico was such an early riser.
After our heart-strangling discussion last night, Rico gathered me in his arms and held me until I fell asleep. His thumbs caught my tears, and the warmth of his body soothed the shakes impeding mine. I'm not going to lie; I liked being wrapped in his strong arms.
On the surface, Rico seems like a complicated man, but when I look past the hard shell he wears in front of others, I can understand marrying him on sight. The man I was with last night showed his heartfelt and enduring love, a complete contradiction to the man I met the previous week.
Hoping for a few more hours of sleep to dull the furious thump of my skull, I drift my head back to my pillow. I jump out of my skin when another sweep of the room locates a presence. The lady who entered my room last week is standing at the door with an impressive scowl and thinly slit lips. Just like our first confrontation, the stern gaze beaming from her hard-hearted eyes sets my pulse racing.
“Hello,” I greet her, my voice apprehensive. It’s only a little after 6 AM, so I find it surprising she’s entering my room so early, let alone unannounced.
“You. Take.” She thrusts two folded towels balancing on her open palms to me.
Rubbing my tired eyes with my palm, I slip out of bed and pad towards her. My steps are slow and shaky. Not just because I'm tired, but because I’m wary of the anger pumping out of her in invisible waves. I’m unsure why she doesn't like me, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to read her signals. It's clear this lady is not a fan of mine.
“Thank you.” I accept the lavender-scented towels from her grasp.
"You. Take," she grunts again, her voice heavily slurred by a broad Russian accent.
I draw the towels into my chest. “Yes, I take.”
Even with her eyes narrowed into tiny slits, I can’t miss their roll. “Not you take. You. Take.”
I stare at her, utterly confused.“I did take.” I swallow the brick lodged in my throat when my words come out stronger than I'm anticipating.
Returning my glare—except with more viciousness—she says, “Not you take. You. Take. Rico.” She gestures her hand to the closed bathroom door.
