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She straddles me and cups my face with both hands. It takes my eyes time to focus on her because I think I was gone for a minute there. Back in that room. Back to the sight of my mother enduring my grandfather’s wrath.
“And when Theron learned the truth the night of his birthday, the night he should have celebrated a sort of coming of age, he changed. It happened before my eyes. He asked me if I’d known, and I couldn’t answer him. I didn’t need to, though he saw it on my face. I still remember how he hugged me. And how the knife felt sliding easily into my back. The pain of it. And then not much else.”
“Jesus Christ.”
She hugs me, and I find myself clinging to her, her weight slight on top of me, but her presence solid and warm and so fucking necessary. And I know without a doubt that what I feel for her I have never felt for anyone before. Ever.
“It’s not your fault. You know that, right? Please tell me you know that.”
I cup her face, feeling myself harden even now, even with what I just exposed. “I do, my sweet little monster. But I also know my temper. It matches his. Surpasses it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Carlisle. His rage skipped a generation and landed heavy in the next.”
“That’s what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
“And the reason you won’t marry. Because you think you’ll repeat history. You think you’ll hurt me like he did her.”
I try to push her off and get up because this isn’t where I wanted to end up when I started this story. But she doesn’t let me go. She sets her thighs firmly on either side of me, presses her soft breasts into my chest, and kisses me.
“You’re an idiot, Lawson Montgomery,” she says, kissing me again as she sheathes herself on me.
“And you are going to be the death of me,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her and pushing deep into her. I shift my hands to her hips to move her over me all the while kissing and biting her lips as she kisses and bites mine, her moans growing louder as my thrusts become more urgent. And when I try to pull out, she grips me tight, the muscles of her legs pressing into me, and even though I could flip her off, do the less wrong thing and not come inside her again, I don’t. I hold on tight and listen to her pant my name as I come inside her.
22
Judge
The next few weeks pass in a lasting cease-fire. We are tender toward one another. We make love. We lie together in bed, Mercedes curling into my side. I hold her and wonder how I will ever sleep in this bed when she is no longer in it.
But I try not to think about that. I want to hold on to this tenderness a while longer. Already the end is near. I received a call from Hildebrand. Well, a summons. Not me, but Mercedes, although I haven’t told her about it yet. I have put him off, but not for very much longer. I have a feeling I know what he’ll require of her because she won’t walk away from her role in Santiago’s poisoning scot-free. No one does, not from The Tribunal.
But I’m not ready to burst this bubble we’re squatting in just yet. Two interlopers. Almost happy. Almost because we both know the end is coming. These are stolen moments.
She calls her brother and Ivy almost daily. She asks to listen to the baby coo. Asks questions about how Ivy is doing. How the baby is doing. What it’s like to feed her. To hold her. She has sent countless presents for the baby. Two full wardrobes and enough toys to stock a shop. But she has only seen Elena three more times since she first met her.
I disagree with Santiago on this. He should give her more of himself, more of them. But he keeps her on the outside, and she is abundantly clear of the fact.
Mercedes is napping before dinner, and I don’t tell her when I pay a visit to the De La Rosa Manor. Calling would be easier, but I can’t risk her overhearing my conversation with her brother. Santiago and I settle into his office after a brief visit with Ivy. She’s still skittish around me and won’t be alone in a room with me. I understand even though I try to be as innocuous as possible.
“She will learn you are no threat to her,” Santiago tells me as he pours us each a scotch.
“I understand. It will take time.”
“I heard the night with Clifton Phillips was not quite a success.” He says it with a small grin.
“I didn’t think it would be. He’s a child. Neither capable nor worthy of Mercedes.”
“You’ve gotten to know my sister well. Better than I, perhaps.”
“She is different, Santiago. You should get to know this true Mercedes.”
“In time. The courtesan’s brother… has there been any word on his location?”
“No. Nothing. He’s all but disappeared. I have the houses of both Solana and Georgie under surveillance as well as their shops. My home is secure. No one will get to Mercedes there. And I, or should I say she, hasn’t received any more threatening texts on the old phone.”
