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“Maybe. But no matter what happens to me, to this business, the only choice I have isn’t between freedom or prison. It’s between which cell I want to make my home. I may be king, Ariana, but I operate in a world filled with criminals, both those against me and those with allegiance to me. It’s a world always on the brink of war, and talk of legitimizing the business will only rile my enemies and make my allegiances crumble.”
“So, what are you saying? Are you just going to give up and give in to the role you’ve been forced to play? To sit atop a throne slowly but surely melting beneath you until the day you’re arrested and become more vulnerable than you are now?”
“Why do you care?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, why do you care? By the time the FBI comes knocking, you’ll have the information you need, and our time together will be a thing of the past. So, why do you care what happens to me?”
“Because I do, Alister!” As the words finally escape me, I throw my hands up in defeat. “I know I shouldn’t, but I do.”
Alister’s lips part. In his eyes, I find an expression I haven’t seen before—a sense of hope that quickly fizzles. At least I’d like to think it was hope. It’s probably just my wishful thinking.
“You’re right. You shouldn’t.” The light leaves Alister’s eyes and his jaw hardens, and I know my feelings aren’t reciprocated. And, yet, what are my feelings? Just because I care about him and don’t want him to go to jail for simply being born into a family of murderers doesn’t mean I want to be in a relationship with him. I…I don’t even know how to be in a relationship. Though, as I try to make light of my feelings for him, I know it’s no use.
His soul speaks to mine. His body excites me. His touch intoxicates me, filling me with an unquenchable lust and longing that scares me and confuses me. Yet, I can’t act on it. Because even if he did care for me as I do him, he’s still a Mafia king. And from what he says, he always will be. It’s hard to understand how someone as rich and connected as Alister can’t walk away and start over somewhere new. And yet, he’s right. The people of this criminal world operate by different rules and rule number one is—the only way out is with a bullet in your head. Or, in the case of my mom, a knife to the gut. Alister will never escape his demons. And I can’t be meandbe with him.
“Do me this one favor,” I say then, lifting my eyes to meet Alister’s once more. “Let’s play pretend. If you weren’t the Blood King, ruler of men, Devil incarnate, what would you be? What would you do? Let me get to know the parts of you you’re forced to keep hidden. Because when this comes to an end, I want to remember the real you. I want to remember the man, not the monster.”
Alister takes a deep breath and spins on his barstool to face the wall. Yet, slowly, he extends his arm, opening his palm for me to take his hand. I intertwine my fingers with his and savor his touch almost as much as his words.
“If my life was my own, if I had no connection to the Mafia, I would’ve gone to college. I don’t know where and I have no idea what I would’ve studied. I probably would’ve been an asshole because of my upbringing. Even without the drug money, my family owns half of New Orleans. That alone puts me in certain social circles, some more vicious than the criminal ones.” At that, I smile. “I would’ve dated a lot, and partied. I would’ve wasted my parents’ money on some useless degree and then traveled the world for at least a year, maybe five.” Alister smiles as he gets lost in his mind, that is, until his lip quivers and his cheeks blush.
“Hey. Are you okay?” I ask, giving his hand a squeeze. He shakes his head.
“I just realized that in this fairy tale my mom would still be alive.”
“Her death was connected to the Mafia?” Alister nods. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Alister wipes his eyes before any tears can fall. “It’s just…if she had never been killed, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard for me to love. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want it. Of course I do. Who doesn’t? But her death was the thing that made me realize I would never have it. I would never have love without the risk of losing it. And after she died, I just, I couldn’t risk losing anyone else. So, I never allowed myself to get close enough to care, to fall in love, to risk heartbreak and the life of whoever was stupid enough to love me.” Alister shakes his head. “In my perfect world, I’d return to New Orleans after traveling and I’d settle down. I’d fall in love, get married, have as many kids as the Lord would bless us with. And I would spend my days enjoying the simple things.”
“Like cooking a meal or dancing in the living room?” I ask.
Alister turns to me. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Things like that.” Alister holds on to my hand a moment longer as his eyes drift to my lips. Maybe I’ve been reading him wrong. Maybe… Maybe he does care about me. The way he had Dr. Ramirez tend to my wounds after my confrontation with Walsh’s men, the way he offered me his bed while spending the night of the Halloween party in discomfort, the way he bent over backward to make Thanksgiving the most amazing day of my life, the way he looks at me, holds me, dances with me, talks to me. The way his thumb caresses my hand right now.
I jump as he leans forward, stopping just inches from me. My heartbeat quickens as Alister brings his palm to my cheek, caressing my soft flesh. Is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to? Oh, who the Hell am I kidding? Of course I want him to! And yet, he does nothing more than brush a rebellious curl behind my ear and pull away as quickly as he approached.
“That’s the fairy tale,” he says then. “And this is not that.” At that, Alister stands and leaves the room without another word.
“No. It’s not,” I whisper. As the door swings closed behind him, there is an ache in my chest that lets me know I’m in too deep. I’ve crossed the threshold of heartbreak. Now, there is no retreat without being broken in two. Thankfully, we’ve still got Boston and the truth surrounding my mother’s murder to discover. We’ve still got time before I have to say goodbye.
18
With the wayAriana and I left things last night, I didn’t get much sleep. All I could think of was her—the way she smells of cinnamon and caramel, the way her hand fits perfectly in mine, the way she looked at me when I nearly kissed her. Her warm eyes were so full of hope and innocence, a bit of fear, and yet, electric anticipation. It was that look that shocked me back into reality and cemented my then-shredded self-control. There’s a part of her that cares for me, which means she can be hurt by me. And hurting her is the last thing I want to do.
“Interesting,” Ariana says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What’s interesting?” I ask as I tip the bellmen for hauling up the mountain of luggage Sophia packed for Ariana. I knew I shouldn’t have asked for her help. Seeing as all the two-bedroom suites were already booked, the bags take up most of the walking space in the small hotel room Ariana and I will share. I close the door and lock it as the bellmen leave and then proceed to dodge the Louis Vuitton trunks as I make my way to the bed.
“I pictured you more of a midcity penthouse kind of guy. Instead, you bring me to a charming, Beacon Hill hotel with no more than four stories. That’s interesting.”
As Ariana gazes out the large windows overlooking the quiet brick street beneath us, I allow my eyes to linger on her for a moment. I was sure things would be awkward between us. In fact, I almost left her in New Orleans for fear of what staying in the same hotel room, same bed, would bring out of us. But, when I woke up this morning, everything was normal. Like every morning this week, she sat at the dining room table drinking her coffee. She met me with the same smile I’ve come to love, and immediately went into her normal good-natured ribbing. Relief washed over me as she acted like last night never happened. Though, I’d be remiss to say that relief was the only thing I felt.
“Yeah, well, it’s not my typical vibe, but that’s exactly why I picked it. We need to stay under the radar while we’re here.” Collecting myself, I drop my leather satchel beside the nightstand, remove my shoes and suit coat, push the sleeves of my dress shirt to my elbows, and lie down on the right side of the bed. “Beacon Hill is quiet, quaint, filled with tourists, and is close to a major interstate and public transport station should we need to make a quick getaway. Not to mention, it’s only a ten-minute drive to the opera house.” Ariana nods and turns to face me, her brows raised and her arms crossed. “What?” I ask.
“What if I wanted the right side? Now your germs are all over it.”
“My germs?” I can barely keep a straight face as I try to figure out if she’s serious or just giving me a hard time, as is her way. “If by germs you mean the stench of Italian leather from my private jet or the town car we took from the airstrip, then I think you’ll be fine. Especially considering you’re not getting the right side.”
