On the Rocks: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Nikki Belaire

  “Shhh, don’t cry. It’s over. I’ve got you.”

  His deep voice breaks on the last words. This gigantic man cries for me too. Loves me enough to let emotion overcome his solemnity.

  They say she doesn’t remember. But I saw the spark. The recognition in her eyes. That somehow I’ve pierced the amnesia while standing here in front of her. Almost crying myself like a motherfucking pussy.

  But to finally have her back, in my arms, is almost more than I can bear. More than I can fucking believe.

  “I’m yours.”

  “What?”

  I hear exactly what she says. But I need to hear the words again. To see her face when she confirms what she means to me. To know she really is. That she’s going to be okay.

  I lean her back from me. All the color drains from her face as her small hand grips the side of her head. Pulling frantically at the short pieces. “It hurts so much. I can’t…”

  Her body spasms, flailing against me as I grip her tighter. “Trinity!”

  “I want to remember. Please help me remember.”

  Son of a fucking bitch. She falls limp. Unconscious from the pain. I’ve got to get this fucking thing out of her. I’d fucking do it myself but I’m not sure I can bring myself to slice her arm open. The administrator I argued with earlier races up to me. “I’ve got the O.R. standing by. Hurry!”

  She looks so fucking peaceful. The hint of a smile touches her pink lips. Maybe she knows I’m here. That I’ve been waiting for two days for her to wake up. That I’m scared out of my god damn fucking mind that she never will. That I’m fucking losing what little sanity I have left thinking she just moved.

  Only her soft breaths fill the bleach scented air. I entwine her dainty hand with mine again and lay my head back down on my forearm resting next to her hip. I’d love to fucking climb in bed with her. But I’d fucking hurt her from squeezing so damn hard. Because once I get to hold her I’m never fucking letting her go.

  There it is again. I swear to god I feel her fingers twitch against my hair. I search her face. For something. Anything. My heart races when her eyelashes flutter. Thank fucking god. “Trinity? Please sunshine. Open your eyes.”

  Her sweet head turns a centimeter toward my voice. “Drake?”

  I see her lips move more than I hear the word. But I know what she said. She knows me. She remembers me. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  Now she really does smile. Fuck me if tears don’t fill my eyes like a fucking pussy. But I don’t give a damn. About me being a fucking baby or anything else in the whole fucking world. Nothing can ruin my joy now.

  Until she sobs. Until her trembling hand reaches for me. Grasping my shirt to pull me closer. Weak but determined to touch me.

  "You're here. I couldn't find you for so long and now you're finally here."

  The words sting worse than a beating. I suffered the same fucking way. But I know her torment was so much fucking worse.

  "I must have been dreaming. I kept looking and looking for you, but you were never there. I wanted you so much. I didn't know what to do without you."

  My arms tighten around her. Crushing her more than I should. But I can't fucking hold back. Not when she sounds so lost. Has so much terror. "I swear to God you'll never find out sunshine. I will always be here with you."

  She nods against my cheek. Believing in my assertion. Accepting the faith in my promise. It takes everything I have to only give her a chaste kiss and pull back. I need her now more than I ever have.

  Some of the grogginess clears away as her huge blue eyes blink open wider. Taking in the flowers, balloons, and cards behind me. Overflowing with color in the otherwise bland room.

  “Why am I in the hos...?”

  Her voice fades, and she licks her lips and swallows hard. I grab the water from the side table and cup the side of her delicate head to give her a drink. She takes three small sips before her cheek slips into my palm. Spent from the exertion of talking so much.

  Fearful she may be overwhelmed by telling her too much too fast, I follow the therapist's instructions. For now, just reassure her she's safe and loved. “You’re going to be okay. That’s all that matters.”

  She shakes her head in protest. Short hair rustling against the pillow. Not accepting my explanation. Or lack thereof. Damn it. Her new look will be another small shock compared to everything else she'll have to discover. "It's okay. Just rest. We'll talk more later."

  "Please tell me what happened."

  Worry lines her sweet face. Fucking killing me that she knows I'm hiding something from her. Concealing so fucking much. That her tests came back clear but the rape kit was inconclusive because too much time had passed. Rage burns my gut that there even had to be a fucking rape kit. But we just don't know what that motherfucking bastard did to her besides the obvious.

  My heart nearly bursts out of my chest. That she's carrying my child. A little over four weeks. Probably pregnant since the first time I fucked her. Proving what I knew from the moment I saw her. That our relationship, that our little family, is meant to be.

  Finally convincing her too, if the gorgeous black and silver infinity symbol between her breasts is any indication. I don't understand how or why or where but somehow we - the two of us - remained connected even when everything was trying to rip us apart.

  "Drake?"

  Panic sharpens her voice, and she tries to sit up. Struggling against her frailty to lift her torso. Fighting to understand what she's being shielded from. I grasp her shoulders and meet her gaze. "Okay, okay. I'll tell you."

  Fuck. I don't even know how to start. Not with the tiny pulse in her throat throbbing like crazy. With her slender arms trembling under my hands. With the guilt fucking eating me up inside. "I fucked up, sunshine. I fucked up so bad and let someone hurt you who should have never touched you at all."

  "Who?"

  "Butcher." I fucking hate the shudder that rolls under my palms from saying that son of a bitch's name to her. "That motherfucker kidnapped you. But you are so strong. So fucking tough that you escaped from that bastard and I found you here at the hospital."

  Her head twists slowly. Confusion drawing her forehead down. "I don't...I don't remember any of that..."

  "I know, and I promise I'll explain it all to you. Anything you want to know. Answer any questions you have. But, right now, please just trust me because you're exhausted and need time to recover."

  Her lips part to speak, but close again. She scans my face, studies my expression before her gaze falls to her small hands bundled between mine.

  "Do you trust me Trinity?"

  A lifetime passes in that moment. The ups and downs of the past month. Laughter, tears, joy, fear, sex, love, failure, hope, doubt, blessings, commitment. All of them escalating to the question that we both need to know the answer to.

  Finally, she raises her eyes to meet mine. Shiny but resolute. "Yes."

  I smile from her whisper and tempt trouble by softly kissing her again. Her arms slide around my neck, and she draws me closer. Fuck it. I love this woman and can't stand waiting any longer. I give in and slide next to her. Gently turning her over to nestle her back against my chest. Tucking her head under my chin. Engulfing her in my embrace.

  She entwines her fingers with mine and breathes out a perfectly contented sigh. Both of us finally home.

  Epilogue

  Four Months Later

  All this time has passed, and she still doesn’t remember. Not sure if she even tries anymore after the therapists said they’ve done all they can do to help her.

  Although she’s rebounded better than I ever expected. Seemingly unfazed by her kidnapping and the uncertainty of the missing details we never could piece together from those three days. Even reaching for me as soon as I brought her home from the hospital and tried to tuck her into bed.

  She didn’t want sleep.

  She wanted me.

  I’ve never handled her so gently, prepared any second to stop if she changed h
er mind. But she never did. Guiding my cock to her ready pussy and holding me tighter than ever as I fucked her like she was made of glass. Although after what she’d been through, I know pure titanium flows through her petite body.

  Only one unsettling incident that scared the fuck out of me. Neither of us sure why, but Trinity was fucking terrified of the blue water bottles our housekeeper loaded in the fridge. Trembling so hard I almost lost my fucking mind that she would miscarry. I held her for forty-five minutes trying to soothe both of us from her fear.

  We’ll probably never know what really happened. What all Butcher did to her. Stupid motherfucker killed himself when my guys caught up with him. Well aware a bullet to his brain would be the most lenient punishment he would ever receive.

  Maybe it’s for the best. She’s tough. She could handle the truth. She can handle fucking anything. But I don’t know if I could survive hearing the sickening details of what caused those fucking bruises.

  After I failed her so fucking miserably. But she forgives me. Begs me to forgive myself. I can't. I won’t. I never will. But I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making up to her the hell I allowed her to endure.

  “Well, Mr. Deveraux, you were right. You’re having a boy.”

  Trinity laughs and sobs at the same time from the technician’s confirmation. Her dainty hand squeezing mine, welcoming my kiss on her smiling lips. We both turn back to the screen. Mesmerized as the young woman points out the proof of his gender. Absolutely zero doubt my amazing wife carries my son in her beautiful belly. “I love you sunshine.”

  “I love you too.”

  Even better, she mouths infinity for only me to see. Once again proving she believes in me. In us.

  I'm desperate to touch her. To stroke our sign on her delicate ivory skin. But I can't with the room full of people in here. None of them probably appreciating me caressing my wife's gorgeous tits in front of them. Already swollen and huge in anticipation of bearing my child.

  "Although you’re awfully cocky when you’re right.”

  “Well, a bet is a bet.”

  But just like before, like always, we both win.

  The doctor settles across from us as I help Trinity sit up, and she slides down her shirt. His smile is relaxed and confident.

  “I've looked through all the images, and he measures exactly where he should be. His physical development is well within the normal range." His gaze moves to my wife. Well aware the worry and needless guilt she carries along with my baby. "Now, with your circumstances Trinity there could be the increased chance of neurological or developmental challenges since we don't know the long term effects of the device. But, that possibility exists with any pregnancy. I just don’t see any reason not to be optimistic and take what comes, if it even comes at all.”

  Never any question, I love this boy already because he's from her. Because we created him in love, and we’ll do everything he needs regardless of what it is. I will fucking end anyone who doubts me. Or tries to stop me.

  “Thank you Dr. Morrison.”

  "You're welcome." He leans forward to shake her hand and then mine. "If anything comes up, let us know. Otherwise, we'll see you again in four weeks."

  Once he, the nurse, and the ultrasound tech depart, Trinity squeezes our entwined fingers. "Are you scared?"

  Really telling me that she still is. That she wants me to be okay with all of this. Nothing I won't do to prove I am. "Nope, because he has parents, grandparents, and an aunt, uncle, and cousin who love him already. That won't change once he's here or as he grows up."

  Rarely am I a fucking genius. Thinking more often with my temper and my dick than my head. But this time, with her, I know exactly what to say. This family, hers as much as mine, is solid. Complete. Forever. And with her arms wrapping tight around me, I know she believes me too.

  THE END

  About the Author

  Nikki writes contemporary romantic thrillers and admits to a weakness for alpha males and bad boys, especially ones who can't live without the strong women they love. She spends more time in her characters' lives than her own. But, when she's in the real world, her passions include reading, wine appreciating, running, and spending time with her husband and daughter.

  www.nikkibelaire.com

  @NikkiBelaire

  www.facebook.com/NikkiBelaire

  Also by Nikki Belaire

  Wine & Whiskey

  Wine & Whiskey: Everything for You

  Truth About Tequila

  Truth About Tequila: Believe in Me

  Straight, No Chaser