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"Nice to fucking see you again, man."
"You, too, Mackie."
"This young lady your date?"
"This is Kayra, my future wife."
Her eyes tell me to drop dead, but I only smile because I'm on to her, and all these threats are just part of her love language.
Mackie hangs around to chat with us a bit more, but as soon as work calls him away—-
"Will you please stop calling me that?" Kayra hisses under her breath.
"I will—-"
Kayra's expression turns wary.
"As soon as we're married," I continue with a grin, "because by then I'll have the right to call you Mrs. Morrison."
"You—-"
"—-are also free to call me your future husband anytime."
I pull her to my lap as I speak, and she hisses like the most adorably angry little kitten that only Kayra can turn into.
"Can't you see everyone staring at us?" she demands under her breath.
"So?"
"It's obvious they know you."
"They do." This used to be one of my old stomping grounds back when I was still a Fed, and I'm sure most of the people staring at us are wondering what I'm doing with a mafia princess like Kayra.
"And me."
"Just get to the point, darling."
"Don't you care about—-"
I cup her face and kiss her.
There you go, darling.
This kiss is the answer to her question, just like her kiss is the answer to everything I need.
Her kiss is heaven, with the way her lips are able to make me feel what I need to feel, every goddamn time.
When I felt dead, it was her kiss that brought me to life, and now that I feel trapped in the past, it's her kiss that brings me back to the present.
Why would I care about what others may think or say...when her kisses mean everything to me?
I expect Kayra to get off my lap as soon as I lift my head, but instead she rubs her face against my chest like a feral little kitten that's feeling affectionate...for now.
It probably won't last, but I'll take what I can get. The way she stays quiet in my arms is soothing, and having beer burn down my throat eventually gets rid of the tightness in my throat.
I know I can't keep delaying the inevitable, and so I hear myself ask, "Do you know how I know Thomas?"
"Because he's Tahey's father?"
God, this is harder than I thought.
But then I feel Kayra stiffly wrapping her arms around my waist, and the pain eases as I find myself suppressing my smile. I've never had someone try so awkwardly to comfort me, and it's just killing me how cute she is every time she attempts to do something normal.
God, I love her.
And it's true.
I don't even know how it fucking happened, but all I know is that I've changed, and I'm now seeing things the way Kayra sees them. Just like it only takes an instant to know if our chemistry either fizzles or sizzles, it also takes a single earth-shattering moment to know if the love is there or not—-
And it is.
I love her, plain and simple.
I love every crazy, cold-blooded, cute inch of her, and it's this knowledge that helps me get the rest of the words out.
"Paige was in the army with me."
Kayra's stunned gaze flies up to mine. "You were in the army?"
"My records are classified, and so are hers." I take another sip of beer to prepare myself for what I'm about to say next. "We were in South America when we had one of those days where everything just went spectacularly wrong. It was just Paige and me and five other hostages, and when she got shot, she insisted we all go ahead, and that she'd catch up with us."
Kayra pulls away at this, and the first thing I notice is the unusual bleakness of her eyes. "But she never did, did she?"
"She was one of the slaves sold to Thomas," I say tonelessly.
"And she never made it out alive."
A curt nod is the only thing I can manage. I know Thomas was a different man back then, and even though I've forgiven him for what he's done—-the thought of Paige's death still hurts, and it likely always will.
My heart is unprepared when Kayra suddenly cups my face. I figured she'd say sorry the way most other people would—-
"What must I do to ease the pain?"
But I should've known better, shouldn't I? She'll never do what's normal, and thank fuck for that, since what I'm about to ask of her isn't normal either.
"I want you to promise you'll always do what it takes to stay alive for me," I say roughly. "Even if it means choosing between staying human or letting the monster out—-I want you to choose to live. For me."
Kayra and I will always be crazier than perfectly right, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
