by Mia Knight
She pursed her lips. “Maybe a nice brown or something.”
No response.
She looked up and saw his frown. “You’re lucky I don’t want pink hair.”
“Fuck that.” His fingers sifted through her hair. “I love your natural shade.”
“I know. Maybe a haircut, then.”
“A cut?”
She snickered. “It’s not the end of the world, Gavin.”
“I’d rather let you dye it green than cut it.”
“Fine,” she said, knowing that wasn’t the end of it.
“Are you really thinking about green?” he asked a minute later.
She shrugged.
His fingers slipped through the strands. “Talk to me before you do anything.”
She grunted.
“I’m serious.”
Even as she considered different hair colors, a part of her knew she wouldn’t do it. So much had changed that something simple like dyeing her hair could bring on a panic attack.
“What are you going to do when Nora wants purple hair?” She hoped Nora grew up with all the personality and zeal she never had.
“I can handle it.”
Of course, he would handle it. He would do anything for Nora. That knowledge edged out her ambivalent feelings about her parents and filled her with warmth. Her daughter was loved and would grow up having the support and love she never received. Nora wouldn’t have her insecurities.
She examined Gavin as he tapped on his phone. The image of her husband in a three-piece suit covered in blood with swords in each hand clashed with the man sitting up in bed writing emails on his phone. Lucifer called him a veteran of Hell … The fact that Gavin had once visited that evil place on a regular basis chilled her, but that wasn’t him anymore. He was the boogie man of the underworld, but at the moment, he looked domesticated and, for the most part, harmless. He kept his word to her and got out of the underworld once he found a replacement. Since Manny and Vinny had been avenged, he seemed content with his lot in life. That was all that mattered, right?
“You’re a good husband,” she said.
“Of course, I am,” he said without looking away from his phone.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’re the best unless you have to be sedated and thrown in the basement.”
He stopped typing and his eyes narrowed on her.
“You drove me to the breaking point.”
The lazy mood began to slip away as the reason for him being locked in the basement reflected in his eyes. Her ex coming back into the picture three months ago nearly broke them, and it was clearly still a sore spot. When she shifted to slip her head off his lap, he stopped her.
“Only two things could make me lose control,” he said quietly.
“Jonathan.”
The muscles in his thigh flexed. “Don’t say his name.”
“What’s the other thing?”
His thumb dipped into the moist cavern of her mouth and rubbed saliva on her dry lips. His penetrating eyes bored into hers. “Leaving me.”
“Oh.” Well, that wouldn’t happen. They were a unit. Psychotic, murderous episodes aside, she loved him. There were two things they hadn't agreed on—his position as crime lord and Jonathan—and neither of those was a factor any longer. Jonathan was now working for Gavin. As long as she knew he was still breathing, she didn’t need to know all the details. Jonathan must have done some fast talking when Gavin went to Maine to—
“Lyla!”
She jolted. “What?” She was baffled by the banked rage in his eyes.
He gripped her face a bit too hard. “You’re mine.”
She scowled. “I know.”
“He’ll never be a part of your life.”
Gavin went berserk when he caught her and Jonathan in a hotel room together. If Blade hadn’t sedated him, who knew what he would have done?
Gavin’s cold, golden eyes drifted over her face. “You threatened to leave me for him.”
“No, I threatened to leave you if you killed him. He shouldn’t have to pay with his life for being my friend.”
“He was more than your friend.”
The very mention of Jonathan made him homicidal. Gavin would spill blood to protect her and kill without mercy if she showed signs of love for someone he didn’t deem worthy.
As if he could read her thoughts, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Careful who you give your affection to, wife.”
She bristled. “I’ve always been careful. He’s the only one I—”
His hand clamped over her mouth. “Don’t.”
She glared at him. He was such a dominant, macho, possessive bastard. His eyes held hers as he pulled her into a sitting position with effortless strength, one hand still gagging her as he positioned her sideways on his lap. She tried to jerk his hand off her mouth, but she stopped fighting when it tightened.
“We’ve been good for three months,” he said.
She grunted through his paw. He leaned in close, lion eyes burning.
“Don’t fuck it up,” he warned.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. He allowed her to rip his hand from her mouth and watched her with an intensity that told her he was ready to pounce.
“Don’t threaten me, Gavin. I haven’t done anything!”
“You brought up that fuck,” he growled.
“I brought up what a psycho you are. You brought up Jona—” She was cut off when his hand clapped over her mouth again.
“What did I say?” he hissed.
She glared balefully at him.
“Even if I was dead and buried, you wouldn’t have a chance in hell of going back to him.”
She bit his palm and yanked his hand down. “How would you stop me if you’re dead?”
He didn’t answer; he just watched her. She tried to think like her husband. It was a difficult task because she didn’t have the faintest idea how his mind worked. He was a master strategist and ruthless crime lord. She didn’t have the years of experience in war and manipulation that he did. Even now, she couldn’t predict his reactions to topics. Case in point, her current position on his lap with his mouth on her chin, ready to silence her if she said something he didn’t like. She considered Gavin for several minutes before it clicked.
“You wouldn’t …” she whispered. “You did not give Blade orders to …” No change in expression, which was answer enough. “You put Blade on cock block duty for the rest of his life? Are you crazy?”
“He’ll never get to you.”
“He doesn’t even want to get to me,” she exploded.
“He does.”
“He doesn’t have a chance with me. I explained that to him.”
His hand slipped beneath her nightgown, slid over her thighs, and glided up to her pussy. She didn’t bother to wear underwear to bed since he’d rip them off anyway.
“I don’t want you to be happy without me,” he declared.
He had no qualms stating what he wanted. He didn’t care how it made him look or what others thought. He was blunt, jealous, and relentless about his claim on her.
“What about Nora?” she asked indignantly.
“She has godfathers.”
“And I get nothing?”
“Your memories of me will be enough. No one could fill my shoes.”
“I can’t believe you made plans for me even if you’re dead.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
It was so fucking Gavin that all she could do was shake her head. “You’re obsessed with me.” This thought had crossed her mind more than once throughout the years but knowing how much he’d planned in advance really drove that thought home. He wouldn’t let go of her even in death.
“Only now you realize I’m obsessed with you?”
“I know you are, but you’re, like, over the top.”
He tugged her head back and pressed gentle kisses over her throat. “I’m making sure what’s mine stays mine.”
She should be more pissed off that
he would manipulate her life from the grave, but it was hard to focus when he was sucking on her neck. To some degree, he was right. No one would ever measure up to him, and how could she go from his absolute possession to anything lukewarm and sweet?
You’re in the underworld where men mark their women by carving or tattooing their initials on her face. Blade’s words drifted through her mind as Gavin marked her. Gavin claimed her in every way possible, but he hadn’t pushed her to get a brand. How would he react if she got a tattoo for him? He would lose his fucking mind in the best way.
He kissed her long and deep. She cupped his face and loved him back. His hands moved restlessly beneath her gown, and she spread her thighs when he growled. She gripped a handful of his hair and pulled back so she could see his face.
“Why do you love me?”
It was a question that plagued her throughout the day. If she told Beatrice the truth about Pat, her mother would condemn her for life. It didn’t matter what her father did. He would get a pass, as he always had. She, on the other hand, would be deemed unforgivable.
Witnessing her mother’s tormented distress hurt her soul. Beatrice didn’t want to live. The nurses said her mother refused physical therapy, which was why she had visited today. Beatrice was being monitored closely because of some recent, disturbing outbursts. It was a good thing her mother would be going into her own home. Maybe she would heal better in a place with her things around her … or not. With Pat gone, her mom didn’t see any reason to get better. The fact that her mom still had a daughter who would care for her and a grandbaby she had yet to meet meant nothing to her.
She risked her life and the lives of Gavin’s men to free Beatrice. She remembered that horrible drive—gripping the steering wheel for dear life and refusing to believe she was too late. The fact that her mother lived through such brutal torture was a miracle. The fact she breathed and could now scream at her was a fucking miracle. Beatrice had been given a chance to build a new life, one free of a husband who had never put her first, but she didn’t want it. It hammered home how grossly inadequate Lyla had always felt. It’s why she clung to the Pyres, who acted as if she was something special. This brutal, ruthless man loved her when her parents never had. Why?
Gavin’s brows bunched together. “What are you talking about?”
“Why do you love me?” she asked with more force than was necessary.
“Because you love monsters.”
He nuzzled her as if she was a cute puppy. She smacked his cheek and shoved away. He wasn’t taking her seriously when she needed a real answer. She slipped off his lap and received a sharp push that landed her flat on her back with him looming over her. The soft mattress made it easy for her to knock him off balance and pin him. He laughed, which pissed her off.
She bared her teeth at him. “I should elbow you in the throat.”
He didn’t look angry that she was threatening him bodily harm. On the contrary, he looked delighted.
“If you do that, I get anal.”
Her glare should have made him wither on the spot. “Fuck you, Gavin.”
She tried to push off, but his grip on her nape kept her in place above him.
“You want to know why I love you,” he said, and she stopped fighting. “You’re the innocent lamb who gravitated to the most dangerous men in the city.” He smiled as he lifted the back of her nightgown and gripped her ass. “You liked Dad at his worst. You saw him as a harmless old man. You brought him back from the brink and made him believe in something besides death. You saw what you wanted to see in us, and we were happy to give you the illusion.”
She didn’t like the sound of that but couldn’t deny it was true.
“I liked your innocence for the same reason Dad did. You weren’t a part of our world, and you gave us a place where we could be ourselves. I convinced myself that I couldn’t be such a bastard if someone like you loved me.” His hands stopped their playful wandering and pressed on her lower back, flattening her on top of him. “When you left, there was no buffer between me and the world. I didn’t need to pretend for you, so I became who I really am.”
“You said you loved me because of my innocence,” she said quietly.
He nodded.
“I’m not innocent anymore.”
He considered her thoughtfully.
“So why do you love me?” she whispered.
“I fell for the innocent and was obsessed with getting you back so you could make me believe I could be a better man, but you’re innocent only once in life. Once it’s ruined, it’s gone forever.”
“Yes.” She’d never been the same after witnessing what Gavin was capable of.
“This is gonna sound fucked up, but I like that I’m the one who took that from you.” His hand quested down her spine, between her ass, straight to the heart of her. “I took your virginity, your heart, your mind. Mine.” The hand on her nape flexed. “I changed the way you see the world. I took the rose-colored glasses from your eyes and forced you to see me as I am. Sometimes I think you’ll run from me again.” He rolled until she was beneath him and placed his palm over her left breast. “But I have this. I put my stamp on it. It beats for me.”
“Yes,” she whispered. No matter how far she ran, he would catch up to her. She wasn’t sure what connected a girl from a middle-class family to a crime lord, but the connection was there, unbreakable.
“I loved the innocent because she helped me believe the lie, but I love the woman because she made me accept who I am.”
He sat up and dragged off her nightgown. She didn’t fight him. He draped her thighs over his and stared at her body for long moments before he freed himself and pressed for entry. She was wet enough to take him but just barely. He didn’t stop until he was in to the hilt. He stroked her belly and then her chest, over the scars.
“I’m a monster. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my family safe, to keep the dogs at bay. No mercy, no second chances.” He placed a dry kiss on her lips and pulled back, eyes searching hers. “You know what’s in me, yet you ask me for piggyback rides. You challenge me, showing no fear. That’s why I love you. You’re my anchor, my partner, my mate, my badass.” His hand moved over her stomach. “You’re giving me a legacy, a love that will never run dry. If you think I’d leave any room for you to wiggle out of, you’re dead wrong.”
She let out a choked laugh and rested her forehead against his. “You scare the fuck out of me sometimes, but most of the time, I love the way you love me.”
“And how’s that?”
“Like a fucking monster.”
3
Lyla sat on a lounger beside the pool in her backyard. The sound of the waterfall and the light of the sun bouncing off the water were relaxing. It was unusually quiet, but she wasn’t alarmed. Her eyes moved over the mountains she had stared at so many times before. Something was different about them, but she couldn’t put her finger on what.
“Hey, baby girl.”
She turned her head. Manny Pyre lay on the lounger beside her in bright red shorts and an awful Aloha shirt decorated with blue flamingoes. The shirt was unbuttoned, showing a chest and stomach covered in snow white hair. He wore a straw fedora and oversized shades. He was a sight for sore eyes. Her heart swelled with so much emotion that she couldn’t breathe. The only way to release the pressure was through the tears that slipped down her cheek. She tried to reach for him, but her body was heavy and unresponsive. She didn’t fight it. Instead, she drank him in. His smile lit up her world.
“How’s life, baby girl?”
She smiled through the tears. “Better now. How are you, Manny?”
He pulled down his shades and eyed her. “Better than you.”
She let out a weak laugh. “I bet. Life hasn’t been smooth sailing lately.”
“No, and it never will be.” He wriggled his toes and tipped his face up to the sun. “There’s always going to be another wave, another battle. Take what you can get. God gives you pockets of time
to enjoy and regroup, so take advantage and don’t squander it. Life is too short.”
She stared at the shimmering water as the sun beat down on them. “Yes, we need a break. Maybe we should get out of the city.”
“You should. Your first family vacation.”
That brought her attention back to him. A shaft of sorrow cut through her joy. “Have you seen her?”
Manny pressed his hand against his chest. “Nora’s perfect, just as I knew she would be.”
She swallowed hard as another tear slipped down her face. “I-I wish you could meet her. She’d love you.”
“I will one day. Until then, I get to watch over her.” He grinned roguishly. “She’s gonna be entertaining, that one. She’s gonna lead the pack, a born leader. Teach her to trust her heart and she’ll never go wrong. The others will follow her lead.”
“Others?” she echoed.
He tilted his head back and laughed. The wonderful sound tickled her ears and invited her to join in. The compulsion to touch him intensified. A part of her knew this was a dream, but she didn’t care. Touching him was paramount. She wanted nothing more than to feel him, warm and solid, just for a moment. As she willed her body to move, Manny’s image blurred. She felt herself drifting between wakefulness and sleep and instantly stilled. She was relieved when Manny snapped back into focus.
“You have no idea,” he said, unaffected by her consciousness. “Your life’s just getting started, baby girl. The best is yet to come.”
“Really?”
He nodded curtly. “You have years ahead of you full of ups and downs, but you’re gonna make it. No matter how bad life is, it keeps moving, and so do you.”
She felt the intensity of his gaze through the dark shades.
“You done good, baby girl. You avenged me.”
She ignored the prickle of unease that slithered down her spine. “Yes, Manny, he’s gone.” Her eyes moved over his body, which was unblemished, as it had been before his murder.
He drew his shades down again to eye her sternly. “I don’t want you to remember how I died.”
Her chest ached. “I can’t help it. I should have—”
“There was nothing you could do.” He sighed and waved his hand, causing his gaudy rings to sparkle. “I’m a bad man, baby girl. I’ve done things you wouldn’t believe. I had it coming. Every man who takes a place in the underworld knows what we’re courting, and it caught up to me. I just regret you had to witness it. You shouldn’t have been there for that.”