Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
There’s something real here. Something neither of us has felt before.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, sounding defeated this time as he turns away.
I watch him go, wrapping my arms around myself, trying not to think of all that pain in his past. Or the other thought that won’t quit, the one whispering through me with a sense of urgency. We could do better, Tristan. You won’t want to run when we start building our life together.
CHAPTER THIRTY
TRISTAN
It’s Thursday night. I’m supposed to be on a date with Maya. Instead, I’m sitting in Raffie’s apartment, cleaning my pistol, my remaining rifle on the table before me. I’ve got a long, mean-looking machete, too.
Raffie snorts a line, then looks at me apologetically. It doesn’t even do anything for him anymore. It doesn’t make him wired or alert or high. It’s like he needs it to feel normal.
“The bosses believe the Bratva angle,” he says, “but I can’t be sure they’ll go to the meet themselves. They might send some lieutenant instead.”
“That’s fine,” I growl. “I’ll be watching the Trentini bar. Either they send the higher-ups, and I follow, or they send their men, leaving fewer at the bar.”
Raffie stares at me wide-eyed. “You’re going in alone?”
“It’s how I work best,” I snarl.
As I clean each part, I try to forget about the hospital and what I shared with Maya. Talking about all that evilness with Vanessa felt far easier with her than it should’ve been, a weight lifted.
“What’s this?” Raffie says, picking up the ring box I’ve laid next to the machete.
“An engagement ring,” I tell him.
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Nobody,” I snap.
“Then why is it here?”
“Coke makes you talk a lot, eh?”
When Raffie frowns, absurd guilt hits me. It’s that childhood connection rearing its head again. I see the boy who cheered and smiled as I conquered Death Valley.
“Are you a good person without it?” I ask, being cruel but not giving a damn. “When we started working together, you were already coked up to your eyeballs. Without it, are you a better man, Raffie?”
I look up from my pistol, realizing there are tears in the smaller man’s eyes. “I think I could be.”
I sigh. “The ring was my mother’s. Before she passed, she gave it to me and told me that when I found the perfect woman, I shouldn’t hesitate. I shouldn’t question it. I should jump in with both feet.”
“Why is it here, then?”
“Because I have to remind myself how wrong that is,” I growl. “When I set fire to these Mob fucks, I’m leaving the ring. I’m letting it burn; the past can burn with it: the Marine brotherhood, the idea I can find happiness. It can all turn to ash.”
Raffie looks terrified as he stares at me, fear emanating from him. “At least I picked the right side.”
“Pfft. I could die tonight.”
But not without taking those fuckers with me. Not without making sure Maya and her mother are safe. Soon, it’s time to get rolling. I take a moment in Raffie’s dirty bathroom, splashing water on my face and staring hard at my reflection.
“No feelings. No doubt.”
Most of all, no love.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MAYA
“It was the most wonderful fantasy,” Mom croaks from the bed, her voice barely audible.
“Mom, you don’t have to speak.”
“No, I do.” Her words come slowly, hoarse, but I don’t mind waiting. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. At least she’s awake. “While I remember … while it’s fresh …”
I gently take her hand.
“I saw you,” she goes on. “Standing in the yard with a tall, handsome man. He had this Marine haircut, so sharp and clean. You two looked so happy and so in love.
“The sun was shining, and you were holding hands, just watching your three children splash around in the pool. They were laughing, their little faces lit up with joy. The water sparkled like diamonds, and the whole scene was bathed in this golden light. It felt warm and perfect, like everything I’ve ever hoped for you.”
She pauses for long, long minutes as she recovers her breath. Each word is like climbing a hill for her, but I can’t tell her to stop when she begins painting such a wonderful, joy-filled future.
“You looked so beautiful, more radiant than ever, with a glow from deep inside. How he looked at you with such love and adoration melted my heart. He was everything I’ve ever wanted for you—strong, kind, and devoted.”
I smooth my free hand over the center of my chest, emotion warbling through me, the deep want clashing with the cold fact that this life will always be out of my reach.
“The kids were adorable,” she croaks, and I can hear how desperately she wishes she could see it. “Running and playing, their laughter filling the air. You had a boy and two girls, all of them with your eyes and his smile. They were the perfect mix of both of you. You could see the love in everything they did. It was like watching a dream come true.