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“When Katherine is back?” I ask with a raised eyebrow and he shrugs. “You’re quite confident she’ll return.”
“I believe in what we have and know we can get through this. There’s no way I’m throwing it away and no fucking way I’m jeopardizing our relationship again,” he says with finality, finishing the bourbon.
Somehow Gabriel’s confidence seeps into me and when I get a goodnight text from Autumn soon after that, I start to feel a little better about this. Perhaps something as pure as love is in the cards for me, after all. I guess we’ll see.
AUTUMN
For ten years I’ve suffered under the hand of Marcus Hayes and yet every eulogy spoken about him mentions what a great guy he was. For years I’ve had to grin and bear it, so I’ll do it for another few hours before I get to put it all behind me forever.
His parents wanted to plan the funeral pyre themselves, so I let them. They were all cut up about it, sobbing in church and screaming as the pyre burned. But not me. His mother called me heartless for not even shedding a tear and I gave her nothing but a smile.
I have nothing to prove to them; today I washed my hands of them for good.
It’s early evening and everyone has left my house, so now I’m busy cleaning up after them. Five different casseroles will go to a soup kitchen later, and the leftover sodas and finger food platters will go along with them.
I fall down on my sofa and look around the living room; I don’t feel attached to anything here. Nothing in here remotely feels like home.
Everything reminds me of violence and times when I felt like I wasn’t good enough to be alive. I’ve cleaned my blood off the floor in almost every room here, but from today onwards, that won’t happen again.
My husband is dead and I feel nothing but relief - does that make me a bad person?
“Get a grip, Auddy,” I chastise myself and get to my feet. “He’s gone and you’re going to sell this gosh darn house and move on with your life!”
Move on with my life, hm? I don’t exactly know what that would entail. Fresh out of getting my degree, they threw me into this marriage and made me lead a double life. The only thing I want to do is help people. It’s where my happiness lies.
But I’ll be lying if I said that I don’t yearn for the gentle touch of a man, someone who will actually appreciate me and love me for who I am. Someone who won’t try to change me or say I have a disgusting accent and beat me within an inch of my life.
Someone like Valentine.
The blood rushes to my face when this thought comes to mind and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Why does his face pop up whenever I try my hardest not to think about him? I mean, he says he wants me, but what does that mean?
Does he want me to become a vampire, too? I don’t think… I’m ready for something like that. Not that I have anything worth staying human for except my job. But turning immortal for him…could I really do that?
Our first kiss the other night set my heart on fire and it hasn’t been doused yet; he made me feel like I was special just with a kiss and a few choice words. I never thought that anyone could make me feel like that… not after everything I’ve suffered through.
A knock on my door snaps me out of my depressive thoughts and I sigh, knowing that it’s probably just another neighbor offering their condolences when they knew how he used to hit me.
However, when I open the door, I see it’s not another well-wisher, but Valentine, or rather, Cezar.
I never thought I’d find a rugged, long-haired biker sexy, but there’s just something about him that I can’t shake. The black t-shirt, black jeans, heavy boots, and long wavy hair seem to speak to that little lust demon inside of me.
He flashes me a grin that is in no way good for my heart before handing me a bouquet of pink and purple tulips.
My hand goes to my chest when I see the flowers. “Oh!” I gush and take the flowers from him. “They’re beautiful, thank you, Cezar!”
This earns me a smile and a little bow of his head. “I thought you might need it, and a shoulder after today,”
I sigh, closing my eyes and taking a whiff of the flowers. “You guessed right, thank you for thinking about me,” I say, then swallow hard before I take a step back. “Would you like to come inside?”
“I’d love to,” he responds without wasting a second, and walks in when I move out of the way.
He follows me into the living room and I can feel his eyes scan every inch of the house, but when I turn around, I see his smile has faded.
“There was a lot of… blood spilled in this house,” he comments, my eyes falling to his hands, which he has balled into fists.
I hug the flowers closer and look down. “Uhm… yeah, there was. How can you tell?”
“Blood leaves a distinct scent; even after it's been washed away,” he says, then closes the distance between us and tilts my chin up. His gaze sends a tingle right through me and I feel goosebumps covering my shin. “You don’t ever have to worry about anyone hurting you again, Angel.”
