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Lia
Irock Jeremy in his crib, smiling at his sleeping form. His tiny fist is curled around my index finger and the other is resting near his neck.
He’s so small and soft and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. He smells of baby and summer and happy memories.
It’s been five weeks since he came into this world, and sometimes, I still can’t believe that I gave birth to this little human who looks like the purest of angels.
The events surrounding his birth are the subject of my nightmares, though. Every day, I wake up in a cold sweat, imagining Jeremy drowning in a pool of blood.
The recurring nightmare is similar to the one I used to have about breaking my leg before it happened. My subconscious is telling me something, and I’ll be damned if I don’t prevent it this time.
Although I had a strong connection to Jeremy when I was pregnant, the moment I held him in my arms for the first time, something inside me shifted. I’m ready to slaughter the world and everyone in it to keep him safe.
This is different from how I felt about ballet. While that was my dream, Jeremy is my flesh and blood. My connection to him is more visceral, and I’d sacrifice myself in a heartbeat to protect his tiny body.
Yan said that the attackers are paying for what they did. I didn’t have to ask him how. I saw Adrian kill someone and he wouldn’t hesitate to finish off others.
According to Yan, who was obviously trying to placate me, the attack was normal. Adrian is threatened by assassins often, but they never win.
Normal.
None of this is fucking normal. Adrian might consider being hunted down to be killed normal, but it’s different for me and Jeremy. We didn’t sign up for this life.
Besides, Adrian can only escape death for so long before it catches up to him.
Jeremy’s face contorts as if he’s hearing the ominous thought I’m having about his father and I coo him back to sleep, my own chest constricting at the idea of Adrian dying.
But isn’t that expected with his lifestyle?
Yet, sometimes, I find myself holding on to the hope that he’ll somehow defy the rules of nature and remain alive. That, as he promised, he’ll protect us.
But the fact remains, there’s nothing that will protect us from him. Adrian will always be Adrian, making enemies and forming vendettas. Maybe one day, I’ll wake up and find an army of assassins in the front garden.
Jeremy and I will only be collateral damage of one of his assassination attempts.
The door opens softly in sync with my thoughts. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. The loosening of my muscles and the scent of leather is enough to give him away.
It’s become so hard to stiffen around him, to pretend that I’m bothered by his touch when, in fact, his presence awakens a dark, carnal desire inside me.
It doesn’t help that he hasn’t fucked me since a few weeks prior to Jeremy’s birth. He went down on me before the birth and finger-fucked me, but he hasn’t touched me since.
At least not sexually. Not even when the OB-GYN told us a few days ago that I’m good to have sex.
I guess he’s still mad about how I requested that he let me and Jeremy live separately. But even in his anger, he still spoons me from behind every night. He tells me to get back to sleep when Jeremy wakes up in the middle of the night. He even says I should pump some of my breast milk so I don’t have to get up when Jeremy is hungry.
I never expected to see that side of Adrian—being a father. But Jeremy is the reason he married me in the first place. My little angel is the one line that connects us.
But not for long.
My husband wraps his arms around me, his hands flattening on my stomach as he rests his chin on my shoulder. I hold my breath, but the need for air forces me to inhale his masculine scent and welcome his body heat.
“Asleep already?” The rumble of his tired voice shoots straight through my chest and another starved part of me.
Adrian has been working non-stop lately, and he’s even been changing the house’s security system over the last couple of days.
“He just fell asleep,” I murmur, half to not wake Jeremy and half because Adrian’s closeness is messing with me far more than I’d like to admit.
“He’s only storing his energy to wake up like a wrecking ball later. He takes after you.”
