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“I’m a Wallace. I might have shared blood with Matteo, but I was never allowed his name.”
“And it means nothing to you, seeing him like this?”
“He played with fire. When you play with fire, do you cry when you get burned?”
“Most people would puke their guts out seeing someone like this, not to mention a family member. You know what your reaction tells me? That you are not innocent. You are more of a Valentine than you claim.”
She turns her head away, but I don’t miss the defiance in her eyes nor the angry way her teeth grind together.
I look at Aspen, whose troubled expression tells me she’s struggling to make sense of this. “Delilah’s number was in Nash’s phone. He called her quite a bit after your attack.”
Delilah’s head snaps up so she can stare at Aspen. “I had nothing to do with that. I’m not an animal.” Her head swings around, and she looks at me. “Is that what this is about?”
I crouch down again, which is not precisely a pleasant experience considering it’s been a while since my guest has been afforded the luxury of bathing. “You mean to tell me you knew nothing about it? Matteo’s own sister?”
“We shared blood, but that’s about it.”
“Were you close with Nash?”
“Not very. I heard about what they did to you.” She looks up at Aspen. “I was disgusted, and I told him so.”
“Nash is dead now,” I deadpan.
Rather than flinch, she snorts. “So he got burned, too. They took it too far.”
I don’t know whether to believe her. It seems if she had knowledge of the attack and was close with either of the bastards, she would have a stronger reaction. Yet there hasn’t been so much as a catch in her voice to betray a deeper feeling.
“Shall I do the honors?” I brandish the pistol, and now Delilah begins to tremble again.
“I told you. I didn’t know anything about it.”
“You’re a part of the family. And they’re dead now. I don’t like leaving loose ends.”
“A family that wouldn’t let me share their name. They kept me a secret because I was a girl. Do you think I give a shit whether they’re alive or dead?” She spits on the floor. “I couldn’t care less. And I don’t deserve to die for what they did.”
Aspen meets my gaze. Does she believe her? “I’m tired of death,” she announces. “She wasn’t there that night. That’s good enough for me. And if she was guilty of anything…” She shivers, looking around. “I think she’s paid her price.”
I drop to a crouch so suddenly it makes Delilah gasp. “Do you hear that? My wife is granting you mercy. If it were up to me, your brains would join his on that wall.” I point at the grotesque splatter as a reminder. “But Aspen is compassionate enough to let you live. She’s endured far worse than you have since you got here, and she wants to let you go. Every morning you open your eyes, I want you to remember that, and I want you to be grateful to her. Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” Delilah whispers, then looks up at Aspen. “Thank you.”
I pull out my phone and send a message to Rick. “They’re going to take you home,” I announce. “And if you say a fucking word about this, so help me God, you won’t live to see tomorrow. I’ll be watching you. Got it?”
“Understood.” A single sob bursts out of her as she fights her way to her feet. By the time we leave the cell, Rick and Bruno emerge from wherever they tucked themselves before we arrived. I exchange a nod with Rick before taking Aspen’s arm and leading her toward the waiting helicopter outside.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I admit once we’re in the air with the hangar getting smaller behind us.
“Do what?”
“How you can be merciful.”
“Delilah did nothing to me. Just like I did nothing to the men who chose to attack me. I can still choose to show mercy the way I wish they would have shown me.”
I find her hand and lace my fingers through hers, thanking whatever entity that happens to be watching over us for her presence in my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I plan to spend every breath from now until my last earning her love.
EPILOGUE
ASPEN
Two months later
“I’m still nervous.”
Quinton’s hand closes over my knee, and I realize it’s been bouncing up and down ever since we sat down in the limo Xander sent to the private airstrip to greet us on arrival. “You’re going to be fine. Everything will be great.”
“But we’re going to be there for an entire week.”
“Yes. Spring break lasts a week. Only seven days.”
“You’re deliberately misunderstanding me.”
He squeezes my knee before leaning over to kiss the corner of my mouth. “No. I’m not misunderstanding you at all. What I’m trying to do is calm you down. There’s no reason to be worried about how this will go. Everybody loves you.”
