AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I want you to have it."
"Dante—"
"She would have wanted you to have it, Lilah." That stops me. "She would have loved you, baby."
I take in a deep, shaky breath, looking into his eyes.
They're begging me to accept.
Then I look at the chain, the St. Christopher that would sit perfectly against my skin if I didn't have a turtleneck on.
And then I nod.
But because I can't be easy . . .
"Julius. Do you have any St. Christopher medals on hand? Ideally, the biggest one possible? This guy needs it," I say, and though Julius laughs big and nods, off to find a new medal, I'm watching Dante in the mirror.
He's smiling.
"That's my girl," he says, and then he kisses my cheek before stepping back and meeting with Julius to pick out his own.
Forty-Three
-Dante-
Monday morning, the dread starts to creep in before I’m even awake.
It’s time to go.
Our days of paradise, of being us in the open without having to worry about stealthy eyes catching us and exposing our secret, are over. We must head back to Jersey, to secrets and plans that I can’t share with my girl. To the world of payback and retribution and trying to scorch the earth as we know it to build anew.
She wakes slowly, too early for her night-owl tendencies, I’m sure, the sun barely dipping into the room. My fingers are playing with her hair, and she moans lightly at the feeling. She’s like a cat, moving her head toward my hand, eager for more.
A low chuckle rolls through my chest, and her head tips up to look at me, and god. She’s gorgeous. Her eyes blink open, and slowly, an easy, sweet smile takes over her face. Just like myself, she got color over the weekend, and she looks even more delicious and beautiful than ever. Like this, she just looks like . . . mine.
God, what I’d give for that.
What I’d give for this every morning.
Every morning I leave her before she wakes kills me just a bit, but I can’t bear to wake her, to see this face and hear her voice and be tempted to stay. Seeing her like this, I know I made the right choice in the past.
“Hi,” she murmurs, her voice soft and craggy with sleep. I smile at her as a hand brushes hair from her face, tucking it back behind her ear.
What on earth did I do right to convince this woman to give me the fucking time of day?
“I’ve been waiting months for that,” I say in a quiet whisper. Her face moves through confusion, the look mixing with her sleepiness in the most adorable way. “What you’d sound like when you wake up. The look you’d give me. Blew all of my expectations away.” My chest tightens, seeing the look on her face, the small, shy smile. Yesterday, she had her own moment of awe at having a morning together. I guess this is mine. “There’s nothing I hate more each morning than leaving you there asleep. A fucking angel sent to me from heaven. I think it every time I see you sleeping so damned peacefully. It kills me to leave you.”
“Why do you?” she asks, and I think she shocks herself by asking it aloud.
“Too many eyes.” The eyes. The ears. They’re everywhere but here.
I hate them.
I want this. I want us. I want easy and normal.
But we have a battle to fight first.
“I hate it.”
