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“I’m sure they could sense your feelings about me,” she replies, grinning and pulling the bear to her chest. “I love it. I really do. Thank you, Savva. You’re a sweetheart.”
Heat rushes to my face at her words, and it gets even worse when I realize half the people in the bar are looking at us. I’m sweating like a sinner in church, and I feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe this was a mistake, a step too far, as I was afraid of.
But Oakley doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. She gets up on her toes and kisses me in front of everyone, happy with the gift I’ve given her and not afraid to show it. It makes me feel like the biggest wimp but also the luckiest man alive at the same time.
“Maybe we should sit,” I say, looking for an excuse to shift focus away from the bear.
Oakley is still beaming, and carries the bear to the table, propping it up in the center as though it’s going to be mediating our conversation. I shuffle over to them and sit down, placing my hands in my lap and smiling awkwardly.
“Really cute. What made you think to buy me a gift?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
“It just reminded me of you,” I reply.
“Because it’s fat?” she asks, immediately breaking out into a fit of laughter. I’ve never seen her this cheerful, and it makes me want to go out and buy her a thousand teddy bears to see how much I can make her smile.
I laugh with her, feeling some of the pressure come off my shoulders. I always have a good time with Oakley. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t enjoy coming to see her, even if it was only to fuck her brains out.
Now, it feels like each meeting means more than just sex.
“Any word about the bikers?” she asks, her expression falling a bit as the conversation turns serious.
I hate that it’s always like this. One moment we’re laughing and making eyes at each other, and the next, the grey cloud of reality rolls in. Thankfully, I’m not bringing any bad news.
“They seem to be busy at the moment,” I reply, adjusting my posture. “I heard a few of Stone’s guys got arrested, so they’re probably not going to want to make a move until they have their full numbers again. I wouldn’t let that lull us into a false sense of security, but it’s nice to know that if they do make an appearance, there will be less of them. A shotgun could take out a few even before Maxim would have to step in.”
Her eyebrows move up an inch, and she leans in. “You expect me to shoot a bunch of guys on sight? You know how long I’d go to jail for? I wanted to continue Angus’s legacy, but not like that. Jesus, I’d be toast in prison.”
I laugh, but it’s really nothing funny. She’s just so far removed from this lifestyle that she doesn’t understand what we have to do. Killing someone isn’t the issue. You won’t go to jail for it out here as long as you have a proper alibi, no talkative witnesses, and a way to clean up the mess.
The real issue is just staying alive. Most of us don’t leave the Bratva through the prison system.
We leave in a casket.
“Shoot first and let me take care of the rest. Anything else will almost guarantee that you don’t make it out of here alive. I need you to understand that,” I say.
She groans, pressing her hand against her forehead. “This is fucking crazy. I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Sorry,” I reply, but there isn’t much sympathy in my voice.
I warned her already, and the fact is that she did sign up for this. She could’ve walked away but she didn’t. Ultimately, that’s on her, even if I do my best to protect her from the dire forces she has exposed herself to.
She smiles through the obvious dread, adjusting the bear between us to fill in the awkward silence.
“You can still leave,” I say softly.
“Stop saying that!” she shouts, causing me to jump in my seat. “You keep telling me that I can leave, but then you’re coming in here and bringing me a teddy bear with my name on it. What do you expect me to do?”
“Hey, calm down,” I reply, immediately regretting my choice of words.
Her eyes grow large. “Calm down?! How the fuck can I calm down, Savva? There’s a biker gang that wants to tear me to pieces, and you’re waltzing in here with teddy bears telling you how much you like me, but then telling me that I should leave. It’s confusing, and I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t say that youshouldleave, only that you could,” I reply in a lame attempt to save myself through semantics. It’s a futile attempt.
“Could, should, would – whatever! It doesn’t change the fact that you’re over here seducing me every night, shooting people in the meantime, and then telling me that I’m in danger because of your recklessness. I can’t live like this, Savva. Please, tell me something that’s not going to make me want to slam my head in a door.”
The joy on her face has changed to the utmost distress, and I wish I could walk back everything I’ve said. I want to tell her that everything is okay, and that I’ll always be here for her, but I just can’t. That would be a lie, and even though I’m a terrible person, I won’t lie to her.
I care too much.
