She wrapped her arms around his waist, a smile full of love and appreciation creeping across her face. “Thanks,” she whispered to him again, holding him tight.
“My pleasure, honey,” he said before kissing the top of her head and stepping back. He held his hand up to the rest of us. “Take care, you all.” He nodded before starting for the elevator. Miles and Kayla followed.
“Take care, Stewart,” I called from where I was leaning against the side of the couch.
He didn’t answer, just smiled before saying goodbye to Kayla and Miles and stepping into the open elevator.
After the elevator doors shut, Amelia turned and fixed her focus on me. My eyes met hers as she walked to where I was standing, gripping my hand and almost petting it with her other one. “Please don’t be mad, babe.” She was almost begging, her voice sweet. “I had to keep Uncle Stewart’s and my relation quiet. I promised I would if he helped.”
I looked at her blankly before deciding what to say. Her face was still glowing, her eyes the only thing I could see. I could never get mad at her—disappointed, maybe, but I could definitely understand her point. It wasn’t something stupid and small that she kept from me. Stewart was a huge part of Operation Kill that Fucker. We needed him. I got it. I just hate not being in the know.
I licked my lips before caressing her cheek with the back of my free hand. “I could never be mad at you, baby,” I said softly. “You’re a brave-ass woman. I could never fault you for looking out for our best interest.”
Her eyes sparkled before her mouth met mine. I cupped the side of her face as we yet again slipped into our own little world, kissing each other like no one else was in the room.
Our foreheads touched as our lips separated; she smiled before pecking my lips again. “I love you so fucking much.”
A few days later, we were outside … walking the streets in freedom. Well, kinda. I was on crutches, hobbling around like a fucking pussy, but I was out in public, breathing the fresh air, Amelia by my side.
I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was like a new version of herself. She was carefree, happy, and more witty and fun than I had ever seen her … even more than the first night we met.
“You know you’re nuts, right?” she asked as I hobbled alongside her.
“Seems accurate.” I grinned.
We were walking from Kayla and Mile’s apartment back up to mine. We were officially out of the downtown place and staying temporarily at the penthouse while they were gone on a business trip. I was told that my flat wasn’t livable at the moment, but I wanted to see it for myself.
Miles arranged for his contractor to meet us there to appraise the damage. In so many ways, it was useless, because I didn’t have that kind of money just laying around. I was a paycheck to paycheck kind of guy, my race money the play money, but I wanted to at least see it, see what it was going to take to get it up and running … someday.
Exhausted and in pain, we finally made it. The windows and door of the bar were boarded up just like Miles said they would be. I shook my head and cursed the fucker that did this. I was so happy he was ten feet under, getting what he fucking deserved.
Amelia wrapped her arms around my waist, knowing the ache that the sight gave me. This bar was my baby … my first baby. It gave me the step that I needed in life. It gave me second chance.
“Merrick?” A man dressed in faded blue jeans and a worn out t-shirt came up beside us.
“Yeah.”
“Chris Miner,” he said, extending his right hand, his other holding a clipboard.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied, shaking his hand. “This is my girlfriend, Amelia.”
They both smiled as they briefly shook hands.
“So this place is yours?” He turned to look at the front. “Miles told me it was in rough shape. Hope the guys that robbed this place got caught.”
I grinned devilishly at Amelia. “Something like that,” I told him, kissing the top of Amelia’s head.
“Well, let’s take a look inside, see what we can salvage and what’s going to need some work.”
“Got a crowbar?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.
He chuckled, pulling a hammer from his tool belt. “This should work.”
He pulled back each corner of the board until it fell. There wasn’t a door. Fucker yanked that shit right off. Awesome. It was on the ground nearby, thankfully, allowing Chris to examine it.
“It’s actually okay. Just needs a new piece of glass and hinges.”
“Look at that,” I joked, moving further in.
There were bar stools thrown everywhere, the cash register torn from the counter, the mirror against the wall shattered. It actually wasn’t that bad, just a mess. Apparently someone had fun tossing stools around. Power-raged fuck!
Same thing was up with the kitchen; just a clusterfuck, but nothing crazy. I was beginning to feel optimistic. Opening up in the near future probably wasn’t too farfetched. Chris continued to write things down as we walked through and the list seemed doable enough.
Next up was the apartment. No door again, but again, it was close by and salvageable. I exhaled, annoyed, once we walked in. There was no floor, at least not a visible one. It was a fucking disaster—the couch shredded, bed flipped and the mattress on the other side of the room. The bathroom was … yeah, there wasn’t really one. Next we walked into the kitchen. This time I had to chuckle, pulling Amelia close. It was like a light was shining down on the only thing visible and alive, sitting above a mess left by a tornado …
Our cactus.
It was sitting, untouched and perfectly fine, on the counter where Amelia left it. It withstood the fucker, his gang, and the rampage they were on. It was sitting there, full of life, not an ounce of neglect showing through.
I looked down at Amelia, who was staring at it too. Chris looked at us like we were smoking crack, but I didn’t care. We were fucking cacti. We lived through our separation, fought for what we had, and took down the most dangerous gambling ring on the East Coast. We didn’t need anything. We didn’t need constant caregiving or pampering. We were ruthless, fighting for us. The nurturing we needed was each other.
We were fucking cacti and would never let anything come between us. No matter the storm that surrounded us, we would survive. We would still stand, untouched and perfectly fine.
We were permanent.
“You ready for this, baby?” I asked as we walked into my buddy’s shop in Jersey.
“You have no idea,” she said, quickly pecking my cheek.
Connor came up front to where we were standing. “If it isn’t the Drake,” he greeted.
“What up, man?” I shook his hand before bringing him in for a loose hug.
“Chillin’, chillin.” He smiled. “This must be the Mrs.,” he said, turning his attention to Amelia.
“Soon,” I told him, winking at her. There was no ring on her finger yet, but I was working on it. I hadn’t had an income in a while; I was living off the last bit I had, and Miles. God, I fucking hated saying that, but it was the truth. I would pay him back one day, though. That was for sure. And as soon as I got enough money in the bank, Amelia would be mine on paper, too.
“Hi,” she smiled, “I’m Amelia.”
“Shit, dude,” he shook his head, checking her out, “she’s a winner.”
I punched his shoulder. “Get off my shit!”
He laughed. “You’re lucky I got one at home of my own, because shit …”
“And don’t forget the two littles,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, yeah … the whole package. I got ‘em all,” he said, crossing his arms grinning proudly, instantly becoming more genuine and not such a sarcastic scumbag.
“They good?” I asked.
“Perfect as can be, man.”
I smiled; he was a good guy and deserved the best. “Good to hear.”
“Nothing like it, my man.”
I pulled Amelia into my side. I knew there wasn’t anythin
g like it because I knew there wasn’t anyone that compared to Amelia. Having little babies with her … damn. That would just be the icing on the fucking cake.
“So what are ya in for today?” he asked. “Adding to the sleeve?”
“Nope. Not me today,” I answered. “We need to get something covered.”
He raised a brow. “Ya gotta a good one, huh?” he asked, looking at Amelia.
“Not so much a good one,” she told him, “but one that definitely needs to be gone.”
He nodded his head. “We can do that.”
We walked back to where his station was set up, Amelia sitting on the big chair while I took a seat on the one next to it.
“So you have any ideas of what you want to get?” he asked.
Amelia pulled the printed picture from her pocket.
He nodded his head and looked impressed. “Never done one of these before,” he admitted. “But it’s much radder than doing another fucking flower.”
Amelia snickered. “Flowers are pointless,” she told him with a mischievous grin. “They don’t last.”
It was just after three in the afternoon when Kayla came waltzing into the bar. I hadn’t seen her in what felt like forever. She and Miles had just gotten back from their month-long honeymoon cruising around the Atlantic on the yacht that Miles’ parents bought them for their wedding gift. I know—who gets a yacht for their fucking wedding? But anyway, she looked as beautiful as ever, hair pulled up in her usual discombobulated-but-worked-on-her-bun, sunglasses on, tanned skin, and a smile that reached both sides of her face.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I asked as she pushed her sunglasses up on her head and took a seat on an empty bar stool.
“Oh, ya know, just got back from lounging around on my private yacht; nothing crazy,” she joked, acting all extravagant and making me chuckle. “What’s new with you?” she asked, helping herself to a glass behind the bar and some soda from the dispenser.
My smile turned devious. I wouldn’t be able to hold onto my secret. Kayla and I told each other everything; there was no way I could keep this news in. I pulled my left arm, which I had been strategically hiding since she walked in, out from behind my back, holding it up to reveal the shiny silver ring around my finger.
“What? Are you kidding me?” she shouted, standing up to get a better look at it. “When did this happen?”
“Um, we may or may not have taken an unannounced vacation to Vegas after your wedding.”
“You got married in Vegas?!” she continued to shout.
I couldn’t stop laughing at her loud excitement. She was hilarious to watch.
“Yup.” I nodded my head proudly. “At one of the Elvis wedding chapels and all.”
“You’re kidding, right? Am I being punked or something?” she asked, looking around for some hidden cameras to appear.
I chuckled again and shook my head. “I’m serious. You wanna see the license?” I pointed to the upstairs where we had it filed.
“Oh my God, Merrick,” she reached across the bar to hug me, tears already filling her eyes. “I’m so pissed you did it without me, but so frickin’ happy for you guys.”
“Thanks, friend,” I said, hugging her back.
“Who’d a thought, huh?” she asked once she was sitting back down.
I shook my head. “Definitely not me,” I told her honestly. “But damn does it feel awesome.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
I nodded my head. “It’s scary sometimes,” I admitted, “how much I love that girl.”
“Well, you guys have been through a lot.”
“Too much,” I told her.
“But you wouldn’t be where you are now if it didn’t happen,” she pointed out with an eyebrow raised.
I looked around the bar, taking in the new walls, lighting, door, sign—everything was different, even the name. McShane’s was no longer McShane’s. It was Permanent Lines now. Amelia and I started over. Everything was new and everything was more than perfect. We were living the dream. We had more love between us than any one person needed and so much money that we could swim in it, compliments of the art studio’s bank account, which happened to be the one that Antonio consistently deposited his winnings into and in Amelia’s name. It was news to us, and the money was amazing, but that wasn’t my high; it wasn’t my reason for living. It wasn’t the material things that made a home. Success wasn’t provided or handed to you just by status or the amount of money you had. It was the people you shared it with. It was the ones you held closest to your heart. It was your friends, your wife, your family …
And it just so happened …
I had all three.
I had a surprise for Amelia today. It was something that I’d been working on since the income started to come in again. There were a couple of times that I squashed the idea since it was the same fucking thing that Antonio got her at one point. But he took it away. I didn’t ever want to be grouped with anything that son of a bitch had ever done. If there was one person who I hated the fucking most in my life, it would be him. But I wanted to do this for her. She needed it. She needed her own space and I wanted to give it to her.
I stood outside Permanent Lines, waiting for her to get home. Since the bar was up and running again, we still lived up top. Amelia had some appointment this morning that she was up and out early for. I think it was one of those girl appointments; I stay far from them. I love my girl’s lady parts, but I don’t like to think about some doctor checking them out or doing whatever they do to them. No thanks!
“What’re you doing out here?” she asked when she arrived.
“I’ve got something to show you.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek before grabbing her hand.
I walked her to the place next door. It’d been vacant for a few years now and really run down, but recently it had been undergoing some renovations.
“Babe, I don’t think we should be in here,” she said, moving closer into my side.
“Why not?”
“Because someone else owns this and it’s clearly not open for business yet.”
“No,” I shook my head slightly, “I do believe that I own the place.”
She looked up at me, confused, but with an intrigued grin. Her smile, eyes, and everything looked just as wonderful as usual and I was bursting with excitement to share this with her.
I smiled down to her, taking in her godforsaken beautiful eyes. “It’s yours, baby,” I told her. “It’s your new studio.”
“Are you kidding?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“Not in the slightest,” I replied. “You can do whatever you want with it—make it a business, just use it as your painting space … whatever.”
“Oh my God!” she practically squealed, pressing her overly joyed lips on mine. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“And I promise it’ll never be a cover for anything.” I winked.
She smiled, tears already pooling in her eyes, staring at me for a second more before pecking me again.
“Oh, and there’s something else pretty awesome about this space,” I added, grabbing her hand again to bring her into the back and up the stairs.
“What? Are you kicking me out?” she asked with a sarcastic nervousness to her tone at the sight of the less than stellar apartment in front of us.
“Not even close,” I told her, bringing her into my side before kissing the top of her head. “We’re adding on.”
“So we’re knocking down the wall and making our place bigger?” she asked, her grin mischievous.
“Yeeaaahhh, that was the plan. Is that not a good idea?” Did she know something I didn’t?
“No, it’s a great idea!” She snickered. “We just may need the extra room now.”
Huh? I looked at her in question, my heart pounding as I watched her lay her hand over her stomach.
Holy fucking shit!
“Are you pregnant, baby?” I asked, my insides already going crazy. We had
n’t been trying, but hadn’t really been preventing either. Amelia forgot her pills when we were down south for Kayla and Miles’ wedding a while back, and decided against them when we returned home. She said they made her gain weight. I had no fucking clue what she was talking about, but we moved onto a different method in replacement, pull and pray. Obviously it doesn’t really work all that well.
She nodded her head, giving me the sweetest damn grin. “Just had an ultrasound,” she said, pulling a black and white glossy photo from her pocket and holding it up for me to see.
I couldn’t see shit, but I knew what it was that I was supposed to be seeing. “We’re having a baby?” I asked, still shocked. It wasn’t really registering, but I was getting there.
She nodded her head again, this time giggling a little.
I bear hugged her into my chest, kissing her head over and over. “Holy shit!” I stepped back an inch and held her face in my hands. “We’re having a fucking baby!”
I never thought reproducing another one of me was a good idea, but the way my body was humming with so much damn emotion and happiness, I didn’t give a fuck. I’d just cross my fingers for a girl. Though I’d kick the fucker’s ass that tried to even glance at my princess, having another little Amelia would make this world an even better place.
“So, I guess this means you won’t be racing this weekend?” I asked with a raised brow. We had a big race scheduled, one that we were both registered to participate in. Amelia was now my partner in crime on the track, making all the other racers pissed as fuck—we took the first and second place trophies every fucking time. Yeah, you heard right. Amelia was claiming just as many checkered flags as I was these days. I always played it off that I was letting her join in on the victory circle fun, but shit, not one time had I gone easy on her. The girl was fucking amazing on the track; it was a total turn-on. I’d be willing to bet that’s how we got that little bun in the oven—on one of Amelia’s first place nights.
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