My Heart

by A J Wolf

  "Not to mention taking her would result in a war." Andrea mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

  "Gavino is here." Donatello says as I turn from the window to face them fully. "Meaning Gavino as access to Beverly."

  I frown until I realize what he's insinuating, "You think the Daly brothers were blackmailing Julian to work for them, using Gavino as their inside man to threaten Beverly’s life?” The thought makes my blood boil and I white knuckle the desk to keep my temper in check.

  Andrea nods his head in contemplation, "It sounds plausible actually. Gavino can't take you on by himself. Involving The Westies would give him extra leverage. Julian being executed plays into their hands also; your house has been a wreck since. Bev left and presumably hates you, you've been putting all of your attention between her and Julian while passing off duties...who knows how much shit Gavino's been able to get away with. I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't meant to kill Julian."

  His words make me bristle even if it's true. I haven't been taking care of things like I should. Beverly has my head tangled in knots. "My brother and I have never been close. Not because he's adopted, he's just an ass. I didn't realize how much he truly despised me though until now." Sitting back down I pick up my glass and drain it. "We need to get some solid proof. In the meantime, I'll double up security on Bev and make sure Gavino isn’t allowed on the property without me being present."

  The two men in front of me nod in acknowledgement as I figure out what is left to go over. We've been in here almost three hours dealing with shit. Glancing up I notice them both staring at me, "What?"

  Donatello rolls his eyes at Andrea before turning back to me, "Have you talked to Bev yet? Besides just dragging her home?"

  I frown at them and then look back at the papers on my desk. They know I haven't. When the fuck have I had time since last night?

  Andrea speaks up before I can answer, "We were there when she left remember? It was ugly. There's no way she is fine being back here."

  Why the fuck are we having this conversation? I know how bad it was. I fucking lived it. Spending three months knowing I was the reason her heart was so broken she couldn't even look at me was the worst thing I've ever had to experience. Feeling annoyed with them I level them both with a glare, "This is not a group therapy session. Unless you have valuable information that can shift the Beverly tides my way, I suggest minding your own damn business."

  Donatello laughs and holds his hands up in mock surrender while Andrea gives a ridiculous fake salute and chants, "Sir yes sir."

  I can’t help but smile at them, fucking cogliones.

  ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪

  Finally done for the day I quickly shower and change into sweats and a tee. I didn't see Beverly on my way up to the room, but I know she's around because Dylan was outside barking at some birds. It's almost four and I haven't eaten yet, so I start there first. Walking barefoot to the kitchen I round the corner and am forced to stop or run into a very grumpy looking Dylan. He's wearing what looks like a crown with giant purple flowers on his head. What the fuck. Beverly is humming to herself at the counter, back to me, so she can't call off her attack dog. "Move Dylan." I motion like I'm going to pass him and he flashes his teeth like the asshole he is. "Knock it off and move." Beverly must have ear buds in because she obviously can't hear me. I frown at him and his teeth still on display. I don't care what Beverly says, he is not smiling. "You better not fucking bite me you prick. I'm the one who brought you home, remember?" Ungrateful ass dog. I squeeze past him, ignoring his low grumbles but mindful to keep my body parts as far away as possible.

  Now that I'm past the guard I'm able to see Bev’s ear buds. Walking up behind her I wrap my arms around her waist, spreading my palms under her cropped hoodie and rest my chin on her shoulder. She stiffens a moment, probably a combination of being startled and not wanting me touching her, then reaches up to pull out the ear buds. She's going to have to get used to the latter because I have no plans to stop touching her. She goes back to mixing...dog food?...in a bowl after a seconds pause. "Cuore Mio what're you doing?" I kiss just behind her ear where she has a tiny feather tattoo. It's my favorite purely because it matches one of my own. She can throw her ring away, but she can’t easily get rid of this.

  She turns her face to look at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of her pink lips, "I'm mixing Dylan's dinner. He won't eat unless I mix something with it…Gretchen had leftover gravy from breakfast she saved for him."

  I very badly want to tell her how fucking ridiculous that is, but I kiss the side of her neck instead. "Is that a crown Dylan is wearing?"

  She gasps excitedly and spins in my arms, her gorgeous face beaming, "Isn't it the cutest fucking thing you've ever seen?! I love it. I want to get him one for every season. When he smiles with it on, it melts my fucking heart." Her smile is contagious, and I find myself returning it with one of my own. She's really an eccentric little thing and she swears like a damn sailor but God she's perfect. She also seems to be in a better mood with me than earlier. Or she's just really excited about dog bullshit and momentarily forgot she hates me.

  "I'm sure Delaney would love to help you pick some out. She'll probably set up a damn photo shoot for you." I'm running my fingers up and down her arms as I talk, my heart thrumming happily at her letting me have the contact without looking like she's sucking on a lemon. "She’s coming over tomorrow."

  "Delaney's coming? Good. I missed her.” She pauses to drop the gravy bowl and spoon into the sink, and I can’t help but feel slightly jealous that she’ll admit to missing Delaney but not me. “The only girl talk I got to have was with Ms. Walkins with all the cats, she lived across the hall from me. But you probably knew that.” She looks at me with a raised brow over her shoulder, “Any way, we didn't even have real girl talk, it was all cat bullshit." She pulls away from me to feed Dylan, so I lean against the counter, crossing my arms and watch her bounce around the kitchen. She's right about her neighbor. I had men assigned to her the moment she left. I even had a few made men staying on each floor to keep a better eye on her and scare off any potential admirers. Despite how much my wife likes to say we are divorced she never once acted on it, thank fuck. I would have had some unnecessary deaths to deal with.

  She's still talking and I'm listening, mostly, but the majority of my attention is on her ass. God, I hope my wife lets me fuck her soon.

  "Remy!"

  Oh, shit I stopped listening. Flashing a smile because I know how much she loves my dimples, I reach for her, pulling her to me by her hips. "What my heart?" She's frowning up at me but hasn't pulled away yet so this might be redeemable.

  "I know you weren't listening to me."

  I bring a hand up and rub her bottom lip, tugging it down softly with my thumb. I want to kiss her so badly. "You're right. I was thinking about how much I want to fuck my wife."

  My admission makes her skin flush the prettiest shade of pink. Cute considering my wife rarely blushes. "Remy..."

  I know she's about to push me away, so I quickly grab the backs of her thighs and spin us to set her on the counter. She starts wiggling around so I tighten my grip on her to keep her in place. "I know you're still mad Bev. We haven't talked, we're still a fucking mess. But we just had a conversation without you crying. Wasn't that one of your requirements? Just let me be selfish with you for a minute..." I run my palms up her thighs, past her rib cage and up to palm her breasts. I love that she doesn't wear bras, she has great tits; just big enough to fill my hand. Giving them an appreciative squeeze, I run my thumbs over her nipples until they become hard little peaks. "Please Cuore Mio." It’s whispered into her neck as I trace a path of little nips along her jaw. Her hands are clutching my shirt at my sides and her legs are squeezing my hips, wordlessly encouraging me even if she doesn’t realize it.

  "This is a bad idea and Gretchen will be in to start dinner soon."

  Her response is breathy, and halfhearted, making me smile against her neck. I su
ck some skin into my mouth, leaving a pretty little mark. "Well she isn't here now. And Dylan is standing guard. Right Dylan?" I hear Dylan growl at me from wherever the hell he is in the kitchen. "See? Dylan approves." I only pause my kisses to speak into her skin, taking as much of her as she’ll let me have.

  "No, I don't think he does actually." She leans back a bit to make eye contact and tries to push my hands from her shirt, frowning at me when I don't let her. "Remy."

  I puff out a loud sigh and move my hands to either side of her hips on the counter. "Then at least let me kiss you. I fucking missed you Cuore Mio. Your absence was a gaping hole in my chest." Palming my chest, I give her a bit of theatrics; I’m not lying, her being gone was torture, but she’s always loved a bit of drama and fuck if I’m not going to use it to my advantage.

  She closes her rich hazel eyes while I'm talking, letting out a sigh of her own before they open. "Fine. One kiss Remy. And this doesn't mean we're okay, we are not even close..."

  I smile, taking her face in my hands and interrupting her rant, "Okay I get it, you hate me still, now hush my heart." I kiss her before she can change her mind, running my tongue on her bottom lip until she opens for me. She tastes like fruity candy and I smile against her lips; she must have gotten into her candy jar. I take my time kissing her, savoring every second. I try to sneak a hand back up her shirt a few times, but she nips my bottom lip in warning each time. Wrapping my arms around her, I yank her flush to me, palms pressing up her sides and back. She's fisting my shirt at my chest with one hand and gripping the back of my neck with the other, legs wrapped around my waist. Fuck what I wouldn't give to take her sweet ass upstairs.

  "Oh, mio Dio! Questa è una cucina! Vai a prendere una stanza, bambini sporchi!" Oh my God! This is a kitchen! Go get a room, dirty kids! Gretchen yells dramatically while coming into the kitchen.

  Beverly jerks back, her face a bright pink and I laugh, pulling her back for one more soft kiss, "Non avresti potuto aspettare altri dieci minuti per iniziare a cucinare? Stavo per scopare mia moglie." Couldn't you have waited another ten minutes to start cooking? I was going to fuck my wife.

  Gretchen huffs loudly, waving a hand towel our direction while I cage Beverly in my arms as she tries to wiggle away, "Oh, zitta la tua bocca sporca. L'ho salvata dalla delusione. Dovresti ringraziarmi." Oh, shut your dirty mouth. I saved her from disappointment. You should thank me.

  Smiling down at my flushed wife, I finally pull her from the counter, but keep her trapped against me. I’m not ready to let her go yet. She looks up frowning and pushes my chest lightly in an attempt to break free. "What are you guys saying? I hate when you do that...And let me go."

  Gretchen smacks me in the back with her towel, "You need to teach your wife her language. Now get out of the kitchen while I cook."

  Chapter Five

  I'm not sure how Remy convinced me to spend the rest of the evening with him, but it was surprisingly nice. We shouldn't have kissed earlier though; I think it gave him an unrealistic idea of how well we are doing. We still haven't had any serious conversations, living in our own delusional bubble the last few hours. Unfortunately, I'm about to ruin it because we can't stay like this forever.

  Shifting to a sitting position in the bed I reach over and turn the tv off, drawing Remy's attention from his phone. "We need to talk Remy. We can't just go back to the way it was before. I can't. At least not without talking about..." I close my eyes, gathering myself for a second, "Without talking about Julian."

  Setting his phone down on his side table, he shifts his shoulders so he's facing me. He has one knee up, an arm hanging over it. He looks extremely relaxed about this and I find it somewhat annoying. "Tell me what you want to know Beverly. What do you want to hear? You know what happened. You know why I did it. You know most everything I know." He runs a hand over his face then continues, "I don't know what I can tell you that will make you hate me less."

  I frown at that, then look down at my hands. "I don't hate you Remy."

  He huffs, drawing my attention back to him, "Yes you do Cuore Mio. You ignored me for three straight months after yelling you wanted a divorce, you barely tolerate me touching you, I had to beg you for a kiss earlier and we both know you wouldn't have come back if I hadn't kidnapped you."

  "You broke my heart Remy. I need time to heal. That doesn't mean I hate you."

  "How much time Beverly? How much time do you need? If you'll come back to me willingly, I'll let you have it. But we both know you wouldn't. You'd stay gone forever, wallowing in your pain, pretending you’re the only one being hurt until you died of misery." He is facing me completely now, a frown of his own pasted on his face.

  Scoffing, I hug the pillow next to me, "How are you hurting Remy? Because you look like you're doing just fucking fine to me. And I don't fucking wallow, grieving isn't wallowing. You're right though…I don't know if I'd ever have come back because I don't know if I could ever forgive you."

  The look he’s giving me is as vile as him spitting at me. "How am I hurting? My heart fucking walked out on me. The one person I love more than life itself walked out on me. Threw her ring into the harbor and then just left. The person I spent every night worshipping, spent every day pining after, counted the seconds until I could be with, just fucking left." He shifts like he might grab me, then thinks better of it, running his hand through his hair instead. "You leaving was a physical pain that got worse with every day. I stopped handling business on time, had to start delegating to others, stopped eating regularly, started smoking more, picking fights. Anything to distract me from that gut-wrenching ache you created when you left. You aren't the only one hurting Cuore Mio so stop acting like it."

  My heart is pounding roughly against my ribs and tears are falling into my lap. I feel like I'm suffocating on his truth, his words knocking the wind from my lungs. I was only worried about my pain. I didn't think to consider how me leaving would affect him. But he still caused all of this. "I'm sorry me leaving has hurt you Remy. But you did this. You ripped us apart. If you..."

  "Don't you fucking say it Beverly. Do not put all that shit on me. I am Capo Famiglia. I don't regret killing your brother because it had to be done. He broke the omerta. He was working with the Irish mob. I couldn't just sweep that shit under the rug and hope no one noticed. Julian told me straight to my face what he did Beverly, in a room full of other Capos. He had three of his own men executed by the Westies. He wasn't innocent. Even after all this shit if it came down to it, I'd pull that trigger all over again. You can be mad all you want but stop ignoring the truth of the what and why. I'm not the one who started this, your twin did the second he turned his back on us, his famiglia." His words weren't raised or said with malice, but they split me in two nonetheless.

  "You shot my brother between the eyes and then refused me a funeral! You wouldn't let me see his body or say goodbye. You waited three fucking days to tell me what you did. You Remy. YOU." I know I'm yelling but I can't help it. Months of anger and hurt are bubbling out of me.

  "You're right Cuore Mio, I did do that. I waited three days because I struggled with how to tell my heart, the love of my life, that her twin was a traitor. Struggled with how to tell you that I was the one to execute him, knowing you would hate me. I spared you from seeing his body to protect you from the brutality of his death. You didn't get a funeral because traitors of the famiglia don't get honorable burials. You know this. You aren't new to this world. Stop acting like these were things made up just to hurt you." His fists are clenched, and his jaw is tight. The only sign he is getting as angry as I am.

  "Why did it have to be you Remy? Why did you have to be the one to shoot him? I get Julian fucked up and I can't even begin to understand why, but I also don't understand why you had to do it. I didn't just lose Julian. I lost you too." I angrily wipe the tears from my face. I hate that I’m always crying, always fucking sad. "My heart has a crack for every second I've had to be away from you. It bleeds with every pump. I've b
een slowly suffocating on my own blood, forcing myself to stay afloat when all I wanted to do was let myself drown. I love you so intensely that I'd rather be dead than live in a world where you don't exist. But every time I give in, let myself get lost in you, give my heart what it so desperately craves, my ripped soul reminds me how you took my other half away. It feels like a betrayal to Julian to want you, to crave you, to love you. He was a piece of me, and you killed him. It feels wrong to let myself be happy with the one who stole his life from me." I threw my pillow at some point. I'm shaking with built up anger and tears. It hurts to force the words from my mouth, the pain etched onto Remy's face knocking into my chest like a freight train.

  He scoots across the bed and gathers me into his lap so I'm straddling him. Holding my face in his hands he uses his thumbs to wipe my tears, "My heart..." it's whispered against my lips as a soft caress and I close my eyes savoring his sweetness. "I'll do anything for you." He rests his forehead on mine, releasing a heavy breath, "Tell me what to do. Tell me what to say. I don't know how to fix this. Fix us."

  I let out a shaking breath and sit back to look into his dark, sad eyes, "I can’t be fixed. So, we can't be fixed."

  "Cuore Mio I can't help us if you're not willing to try. I can't fight for us by myself." He stares at me a moment, seeing something I haven't spoken aloud, reading my darkest fears through my eyes. With a shallow nod he wraps me up close and kisses the side of my head, pulling back far too soon. I feel a feather light kiss on my lips as I squeeze my eyes shut. I know what's happening and I can't bear to see it. He gently shifts me off his lap and I can feel him move off the bed, hear his footsteps cross the floor, hear the gentle clicking of the door opening and then closing. Each step he takes my heart thuds harder in my chest. I keep my eyes shut, tears leaking from the edges, until I fall asleep alone and broken.