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Once upon a time, I’d been a five-year-old starved for love and affection, so I know what he feels, how he thinks, and what he hopes for in this life.
He has this innocence about him, and while the pain his mother caused will never go away, he still has a chance to grow into a good person with all the riches this world has to offer.
Every time I look at him, I see my younger self.
I was his age when Wayne hit me for the first time. How can you be this fucking cruel to a child, I’ll never understand, and I won’t risk anyone turning him into another me.
I don’t care if it sounds irrational and psychotic. I’ve never been sane anyway.
The boy is ours, and that’s final.
“Stop acting as if we’re discussing another business deal.” She jumps up again, pulling at her hair. “This is a huge step. Once we legally adopt him, we’ll be his parents and responsible for him. He deserves a good, loving home where his parents adore him.”
“And we can provide that home for him. Why? You know anyone else who can do it?” Not that it would change anything. The kid became mine the minute I saved him. I’m not letting anyone adopt him but us. Because no one will ever hurt him in my house. “Like I said, we’re the right fit.”
I get up, walking toward the bar, and pick up a water bottle, flicking it open. “Up until yesterday, you didn’t want to get married, and now you’re ready to be a father?”
I take sips while she stays silent. “Things change. Accept it, and let’s start working on the paperwork.”
“Octavius, I love the boy and want to protect him. But this is a lifelong commitment, and you can’t change your mind down the road.” Anger comes at me in full force again as I already predict what she’ll say next. “Maybe I can adopt him, and then we can see how this marriage—”
Her gasp echoes in the air when I throw away the bottle and charge toward her, her back pressing into the wall as I cage her in, trapping her in my embrace with my hands splayed on either side of her head while our chests connect. “Kitten, I’m going to repeat it one last time so you’ll have no doubt left in that pretty head of yours, and then you’ll put this permanently to rest.” Defiance flashes in her eyes, and she lifts her chin. Doesn’t that just turn me on more, as if her existence alone doesn’t make me hard? “You’re mine. My wife. There is no end date to this marriage. We’re bonded for a lifetime. I won’t ever change my mind. I married you because I wanted to. You really think I didn’t have other options to achieve what I wanted?” It was the best strategy then, but it seems my kitten has some issues believing she’s it for me. “We’re together, and we’ll stay together no matter what.”
She sighs, her fists clenching my shirt while I rest my forehead against hers, and she takes a deep breath. “The Church Killer—”
“I’ll handle him.” The fucker hasn’t made a move yet, although I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole situation with the kid is his doing.
“We’re both so screwed up, Octavius,” she whispers. “Can we give him a good home, all things considered?” She leans back, and her eyes widen. “I have no clue about kids and what they need.”
“I think his mother screwed him up more than we ever could,” I deadpan, and her lips twitch. “Besides, we can give him a good home because we know better. It’s unexpected, but that’s life.” I cup her neck, tracing my thumb over her cheek, and she leans into my palm while her necklace glistens in the sun, making possessiveness rush through me as joy enters me. Seeing it on her always awakens something primal in me. “We can do this.”
“We’re moving at lightning speed.” She chuckles, gripping my shirt tighter. “This is madness, and I’m willing to fall down the rabbit hole.”
“Welcome to the world of the Four Dark Horsemen.” I place my mouth on hers, pushing my tongue between her lips, and we lock in a deep kiss, making her hug me close and relax in my arms instantly. Drinking from her for several seconds, I end it too soon, and she groans in displeasure. “I’d say snail's pace. It took us almost a year to get here. Let’s not waste any more time.” I wink. “Besides, I raised my sister, and she turned out all right.” Her eyes soften, and a sigh slips past her lips while I grin. “I’m sure with all the means I have now, we can do an even better job. Although it doesn’t get better than Estella.”
My little sister is a ray of sunshine and always has been. She is and always will be my princess.
Even if the said princess got herself a husband, and a MacAlister at that.
My mood sours at the reminder of the cocky man, and that’s when three knocks ring in the air followed by my sister's loud yell, “Open the door, Octavius Keneth Reed!”
Looks like my baby sister didn’t take me declining her dinner invitation earlier well and decided to come here herself.
Like I said.
I raised her right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Some people say it’s awful to have scars because they give you imperfections.
Something for people to stare at and make assumptions about it, rejecting you so easily because you don’t fit in their definition of beauty.
Oh, how fucking wrong they are.
Scars are awful because of one thing and one thing only.
They serve as a forever reminder imprinted on your skin of what was done to you.”
