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“You are by far one of the most brilliant men I know,” I told him quietly. “I don’t think there’s a single thing you can’t accomplish.” I touched the side of his face, drawing it up so I could peer into his eyes. “You have your parents. You have Lavena and Edmund.” I kissed him lightly. “You have me. We won’t let you fall.”
He straightened. “Will I still have you?”
The sheet of ice I was treading on cracked a fraction, warning me to proceed with caution.
“You will always have me,” I murmured. “Even if—”
He silenced the rest with the capture of my lips with his. His hands fisted into the back of my top, gripping me tight.
“Don’t say it.”
I didn’t.
Maybe that made us both weak and pathetic, but I was prepared to deny it all until the very last second. I was going to enjoy every minute with him, every second I could squeeze into my memory box. I didn’t care what that made me.
CHAPTER 8
Darius
My time with Kami ended too soon when the others finally left their beds. Breakfast was made and chores were handed out; mother would have our heads if we left the place anything short of perfect. Every last inch of it needed to be scrubbed and tidied if we ever wanted to be allowed back.
I was given the yard. I mowed the lawn, cleaned out the fire pit and brought in the cushions to the storage. I swept the patio and emptied my ashtray. The chairs around the table were stripped of their cushions and piled against the side of the house and stashed beneath their cover. I brought the canoes to the boathouse and locked them up.
The funny thing was it was all memory. It was as if no time had passed, and my mother was somewhere in the house about to stalk out at any moment to tell me to hurry up.
It made me smile. I missed my mom’s OCD. I missed her sweet nature that could flip into a violent and vengeful storm when someone she loved was in danger. I just missed her. I missed both my parents. I missed my apartment and my things. I missed my clothes.
I missed my life.
Maybe Kami was right.
Maybe I was ready.
I didn’t have much choice, but it was less painful once I had a better picture of the things I was excited to see.
The other four were organizing their luggage in the foyer when I descended the stairs, looping the last button on my cuff into place on my blazer. I tugged the lapel down over the white button up and the leather holster cradling my gun against my ribs. Provided by the prison, but they felt right. The cut still fit across my shoulders and hugged my waist. The trousers fell where they should and sat comfortably at my hips. Despite the requirement of it all, I missed my cozy sweatpants and t-shirts, even if they were not befitting Darius Medlock, the heir to a billionaire dollar empire.
I heard a yelp followed by a series of crashes from the group below. The slap of skin hitting marble had me rushing the last few steps to find Kami and Sasha in a tangled heap of flailing limbs across the floor. Suitcases lay toppled over around them. Kami lay half across the other woman, her soft, mint green sundress twisted around her thighs. Her legs caught over a fallen bag. Sasha was trying to free herself from her own duffle and Kami’s purse. Kami was fighting not to put her weight on her friend’s gut while simultaneously trying to kick the bag out from under her feet.
Kas was beside herself, laughing hysterically. Lavena seemed mildly amused, but actually attempting to pull Sasha free.
“Both of you stop moving!” Kas said unhelpful.
Sasha’s arm had hooked through the band of Kami’s purse, upending the content. Scattered makeup, hairbrush, loose pieces of paper and a paperback novel crunched beneath their struggle.
For a split second, Kami almost had herself free. She’d nudged the bag away with her foot and started to push up when the arm Sasha had looped through her empty purse flew out. The resounding crack, the sharp cry of pain from Kami as her friend accidentally backhanded her had me charging forward.
“Stop moving,” I ordered, not caring that the words were a bark of authority.
Everyone froze.
I stepped over the chaos and pulled Kami to her feet. My arm stayed firmly around her middle as I moved her away from the mess and turned her against my chest. My finger tucked beneath her chin and tilted it to inspect her injuries.
“Are you okay?”
A bright, red welt was blooming across her cheekbone. I didn’t think it would leave a bruise, but I started to touch it, to soothe it with my thumb.
Kami caught my wrist, her eyes wide, and I realized my mistake a little too late.
