“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”
He leaves, his steps slow and deliberate, like he’s not at all intimidated by my anger. The door clicks shut behind him, too soft for how loud everything feels in my chest.
I stand there, gripping the bottle like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to this world. My reflection stares back at me from the darkened window, hollow eyed, jaw tight, blood splatter covering me. I look every bit the monster I am.
She’s lost more than her fair share in her life. People she loved were ripped away from her, leaving deep scars on her heart. She risked everything giving me a chance—giving us a chance.
I’ve repaid her with silence, with distance instead of understanding and love.
I could lose the only good thing I never deserved to begin with. Maybe it’s for the best. Men like me, in my world— we don’t deserve happily ever afters.
‘It’s been two days, and I still can’t step one foot out of my door without the goons across the hall flying out of the apartment to bother me.” I take the cup of coffee Max was kind enough to bring me from the cafe down the street.
“Carter at the coffee shop says hi, by the way.” She gives a faint smile as she sinks onto the couch.
“This has gone on long enough, you know?” I take a sip of my latte then pace the living room again. “I mean if he hates me, then just tell me that. Take all the security guards away and tell me I’m on my own.”
“I would say the fact that he hasn’t done that tells you he doesn’t hate you. He’s probably just a little mad still.”
“A little mad?” I pause in my step and spin around toward her. “He fired me. Locked me in my apartment and hasn’t called or answered a single text I sent.”
“From what you told me, there was a lot for him to deal with, maybe he’s still, you know, dealing with it?”
“You’re right.” I drag my hand through my hair as I sink onto the couch beside her. “It’s just?—”
“You sabotaged.”
“Yes! I sabotaged myself.” I lean my head back against the back of the couch. “I was so scared that I’d lose him like I lost Derek, I kept pushing him away, and when that didn’t work, I just completely fucked myself.”
“So, tell him that.” She nudges my knee. “Tell him you were scared. Tell him you’re still scared.”
Silence falls between us, each of us sipping our coffee.
“I am still scared,” I say finally, the words heavy with truth. “He’s a dangerous man who has a dangerous life. I could be that girl who gets a knock on her door telling me he’s dead. That some rival family has killed him.”
She frowns as she turns to face me, draping one arm over the back of the couch.
“All of that is true. So, I guess you have a choice. Do you risk the monumental pain of losing him someday by letting yourself love him now? Or do you protect yourself from a maybe—and risk never having real love again?”
Rolling my head to the side, I sigh. “Do you have any other choices in that bag of yours?”
She laughs, then her eyes go wide. “Shit, that reminds me.”
Max puts her coffee cup down and grabs the bag she left on the floor by her feet. “I got something of yours in my mail yesterday.”
From the messenger bag, she pulls out a large, padded envelope. There’re three rows of stamps for postage, and it’s taped closed with a thick layer of packing tape.
“What is it?” She follows me to the kitchen as I dig out a pair of scissors.
“Remember I told you Derek’s mother passed a few weeks ago? His cousin said she left something for me; it’s probably just his baby pictures. He’d tried to get them from her a few times, but she kept putting him off.” There are so many layers of tape, I have to basically saw through them to get the envelope open.
“It didn’t feel like pictures. It’s really light, too.” She leans against the counter watching me as I struggle to get the last bit of the envelope open and reach in.
My fingers touch metal. Round metal and my stomach drops.
“It’s a ring,” I say softly, turning the envelope upside down and sliding it out into my palm.
The cabochon-cut emerald, dark and luminous, sits in a clawed silver setting surrounded by delicate threads of silver twisted and soldered into a lace-like patterned band. It’s old—much older than anything I’ve ever seen. There are worn symbols etched into the band on either side of the emerald.
