I don’t ask him how it happened. He cleaned his hands on a cloth one of his brothers gave him, but I saw how bloody they were when he came back inside. I know Dmitri’s death wasn’t quick or clean.
But maybe there's more darkness in me than I realized before, because I can’t find it in myself to feel pity for the dead man.
The house comes into view after a while, and the tightness in my chest loosens a bit more. It’s become home, somehow. It makes me want to melt into the very foundation when I see it. I have memories in every corner of the house now. It feels like my own.
It is.
I keep forgetting that, somehow. I’m Aiden’s wife, and this place is mine just as much as it’s his.
It’s ours.
Aiden pulls into the garage and walks around the car to help me out. His hands are careful when he supports me. I want to tell him I’m not weak, not unable to walk by myself—but I want this connection right now. I want the safety of his arms for just a little longer.
I’m wide awake. I don’t know how I could ever sleep. My head stopped spinning hours ago, the drugs Dmitri’s men gave me out of my system by now.
When we get inside, Aiden stops me at the stairs with a palm against my neck. I pause to look up at him and he slowly slides an arm under my knees, lifting me up with no effort.
I can feel my face heating. I can’t speak at first, my heart racing too much.
Aiden doesn’t say anything, and I feel like I might break a spell if I do. I don’t speak, instead letting him take me up the stairs. He walks slowly, careful and patient. He watches my face and I can’t help being mesmerized by the way he looks at me.
It should be uncomfortable or awkward, being watched so intently. But I know he’s reassuring himself just as much as I’m reassuring myself by looking at him.
We get to the bedroom, and Aiden gently lowers me, letting me get my bearings before he pulls his arms away. He pushes my hair back from my face, examining some cuts or scrapes I can’t see.
“I’m going to take care of you,” he says quietly.
I know he means now, but I also know he means forever. It makes my chest contract, my heart thumping hard against my ribs.
Aiden gently guides me to the bathroom, his hand warm in mine. I let him pull me in and start undressing me, his hands careful and slow. Part of me burns, wanting more of his touch, more of his body. But I also want this quiet intimacy.
I pull Aiden’s clothes off as he stands before me. I want him with me for as long as I can have him. I know there are things to be done, Assembly business to take care of, but I’m grateful we have these few precious moments to ourselves.
Once we’re naked, he turns the shower on, the water steaming within seconds. He helps me in, one hand in mine, the other at my waist. I step in and stand across from him, sighing as the hot water pours over me. It feels incredible.
After a moment, Aiden’s hands pass over the scrapes on my wrists, gently sponging the thin red stripes there. Every cut is superficial, but he treats me with care. I watch him clean everything, gentle and slow, and I can feel a lump in my throat.
I almost want to cry. He’s so careful with me, I can imagine him being careful with our child. I can imagine him being an incredible father, his soft smiles in the privacy of our home. I can see him being a fearsome man when he’s away with business, but that armor falling away the moment he walks through the door.
I’ve seen both sides of him. The side that chased Dmitri down and killed him, and the side that loves me, the side that touches me like I’m precious.
I love him for all his parts. I don’t think I could imagine him being any other way.
When I slide my hands up to his cheeks, he looks down at me, his eyes soft, and I can see the love in them. I can see how ready he was to do anything and everything to get me back.
I pull Aiden down and kiss him. He holds me close to him, his hands on my waist, and I can feel my body heating with the water and his touch. I kiss him slowly as he raises one of his hands to slide over my chest. It rests right on my collarbone, touching the sensitive skin there.
I can’t help the whimper that escapes me when he touches me. Every cell in my body feels magnetic, like it’s pulled to him.
We kiss and touch each other as we clean up, and when Aiden pulls back to turn the water off, I breathe deeply. Then he pulls a towel off its hook and wraps me in it, drying me just as carefully as he cleaned the cuts and scrapes.
I let the towel fall to the floor and follow Aiden into the bedroom. He helps me onto the bed, lowering me just as carefully as he did before.
Leaning over me, he kisses me again. It’s harder and hungrier this time, even though I know he’s still trying to be gentle with me.
“Please,” I say, my hips pushing up against his hand. I need more.
But instead of thrusting into me, Aiden stops. The reluctance is clear in his movements, but he lets go of my hip. It’s almost painful, the way he pulls back slowly and starts to get his breathing back to normal. The unreleased tension in me protests, demanding that I get him back.
