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She had barely looked at me, her whole body language screaming panic. I knew there was a chance that Jamie would be afraid of me, but knowing and seeing were two very different things. My heart was squeezed into a pulp watching as her chest rose and fell in an abnormal rhythm.
My presence was doing that to her. The realization hurt far more than all the damn bullets I’d taken in my life.
At least the drive to the airport was short and she’d be free from being stuck in such a tight space with the killer that made her shake like a leaf.
I had personally booked our flights and separate hotel rooms, thinking that giving Jamie space was the best choice at this point. I wanted her to feel comfortable around me. Safe. Yet by the looks of it, there was still a long road ahead of us.
Our jet stayed grounded, and so did my shadows, Mike and Jimmy, much to Matt’s disagreement. I didn’t need to stress Jamie out further with the guys tailing behind me everywhere I went. The middle ground was settled by having Carl with us until we were on the plane, the flight manifest scanned meticulously, and a gun waiting for me on the other side. Courtesy of Vincenzo Massimo, future Don of the California famiglia.
That was already more than enough.
Flashing signs of our true nature before Jamie’s eyes seemed premature and, truthfully, a recipe for disaster. My reality was still new and tender to her, and I figured that easing her into our lifestyle would be more fruitful than shoving it down her throat now that she knew the truth.
It was a risk. Calculated and necessary, but still a risk.
New York was safe. It was ours to rule.
Going outside of our domain was always a sticky deal, especially alone. Matt had made sure to inform Don Massimo that someone in the high ranks of our family was traveling to LA for a couple of days on business unrelated to the Mafia. He would have done it even if I didn’t need him to provide me with a weapon.
It was a mere courtesy to avoid future misconceptions. One we would be appreciative to see returned if the roles were reversed. There was no bad blood between us and the Massimos, so Jamie’s safety was assured. Mine? That was secondary.
There was unspoken tension between that prick Mercier and me. I could smell a weasel from a mile away, but his stench was disguised by prime connections and hundred-dollar bills.
Still, I was looking forward to mingling with him as much as I was to be stepping on horse shit.
There was something about that living cadaver that pushed every one of my buttons, and by knowing so, dear Dad had been sure to lecture me about the importance of maintaining a good relationship with the fucker.
So the only thing good about going to LA was this gorgeous creature sitting beside me, avoiding my gaze at all cost.
“You can still stay if you want,” I said, watching her knee bounce while we waited to board in the airport’s VIP lounge. “I understand if you’re not ready.”
“N-No. I’m fine.” Jamie replied, a small but extremely fake smile on her perfect lips. “I’m just not a fan of airplanes. I’ve only flown once, but I’d hand over a kidney if I never had to get on a plane again.”
“It’s only a five-hour flight, I can hold your hand the whole way if it will make you feel better.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood and gauge her reaction to the brush of my skin on hers.
She didn’t flinch as I covered her hand with mine, her tight grip on the armrest subsiding, even if just a little.
“So… it’s not exactly like we read in books,” Jamie said, shaking her shoulders as if she was trying to get rid of the tension that stiffened her whole body and breaking the silence that had settled between us.
“What isn’t?”
“In books, men… umm,” She hesitated. “Men like you have private planes and secret landing strips off the grid.”
I looked at her in question, her face turning a more vivid shade of red in contrast to the pale complexion she’d been sporting since she set foot in the car.
“I might have been reading a couple of novels about, umm, gangsters and stuff.”
The laughter left my body before I could hold it back, every piece of my shattered hope being suddenly glued back together with that confession.
“What?” She indignantly asked, lightly swatting at my arm. “I needed to know that there could be a happy ending for girls like me with men like you.”
Jamie averted her gaze downwards in embarrassment, but I wasn’t having it. I hooked my index finger under her chin making her look right into my eyes, almost getting lost in the genuine sweetness of hers.
She was finding her own way back to me. Using whatever she had at her disposal to fight her fears.
“That’s a tricky question. I don’t own fate, and my life is built on hazard and sin, condemned by default. Happy ever afters aren’t written on undeserving pages, Jamie. I’ll settle for the stolen moments I can get.”
It was the truth, but only half a reply. I was trying to tame my cravings for her sake, not to come on too strongly and scare her away. I trembled at the thought of having such an angel drenched in the danger that was our life, of forcing my fate upon her.
