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She looked up at me. “Is that okay?”
Vanessa never gave me a choice in anything, just the same way I didn’t give her one. I told her what we were going to do, and that was final. Perhaps Vanessa and I were so compatible because we were so alike. “Sure.”
She studied my face for another moment, trying to look at my eyes through my sunglasses. “You don’t like them, do you?” Her voice carried her melancholy, her heartbreak.
My discomfort around them didn’t have anything to do with the blood war. I just resented them for the way they’d treated me for so long. Before I took a bullet for Crow, I’d proven my love for his daughter. I’d always been exactly what I advertised—a powerful man who could take care of her. Spending months being his punching bag didn’t count for anything. What if the events hadn’t unfolded the way they did? I would have lived the rest of my life without her. I simply got lucky.
“Griffin.”
My arm moved around her shoulders, and I pulled her close to me. “A single apology can’t erase the past, baby. Like I said, I risked my neck for you, not for them. I tolerate them, and they tolerate me. But no, I don’t like them.”
I carried everything upstairs and into her apartment, and despite my protests, she helped me. She busted her ass up the stairs and carried things that weighed almost as much as she did. When most women would sit on the couch or do something else, she got her hands dirty. I didn’t need her help, even with a bad shoulder, but her strength always impressed me. No matter what the odds were against her, she never shied away from a challenge. She was always eager to push herself, to be better.
She was strong.
Once everything was in the entryway, I took a look around the apartment. It was exactly as I remembered it—and the painting of me was still on the wall in her living room. I’d wondered if she would take it down, but she never did.
She stood in the living room with her arms across her chest, releasing a painful sigh that reached every corner of the room.
I watched her, seeing the signs of sadness creep onto her features. She’d spent three months in this apartment alone, in the apartment I bought for her. My tenure of depression had nearly killed me. I was sure her time here hadn’t been much better. “It’s in the past now.”
Her eyes focused on me, and after a moment, she gave a slight nod. “I don’t know whether to be sad or happy. I’m sad because the last time I was here…I was miserable. But I’m happy that I’m not alone in this apartment anymore. I’m happy you’re here with me.” She moved into my body and rested her cheek against my sternum. Her arms circled my waist, and she stood there, clinging to me.
My hand slid through the hair on the back of her neck, and I stared down at the small woman in my arms. She might be petite, but she was strong and quick. The only kind of weakness she allowed herself to feel was at my expense. I was the only man she ever dropped her guard for, the only man to get close enough to actually hurt her. She felt the pain of heartbreak, wearing it on her sleeve the way her father wore his love for her. I never cared about the boys she took to bed before me. They may have had her then, but they’d never come close to her heart, not the way I had. Not only did I come close to it, touch it, but I conquered it. My possession of her was irrevocable.
She pulled her face away from the sanctuary of my chest to meet my gaze. “We should unpack…but I want to go to bed. I want you to make love to me.” She ran her hands over my chest, her plump lips slightly open and ready for my kiss. The needy look in her eyes would be annoying on any other woman, but with her, it was the sign of ultimate commitment. She wasn’t the smartass spitfire she was when we met. She allowed me to know her on a much deeper level.
I’d missed hearing those words from that pretty mouth. My hand tightened on her hair, and my fingers brushed across her bottom lip. We used to fuck exclusively, but then she wanted more, and I enjoyed it every single time I gave it to her. Now I lived for those words, lived for the tone of desperation in her voice as she said them. The only thing that could repair her broken heart was me, the passion, love, and desire I could give her.
