Truth Page 15

  “Nothing is too much when it comes to me.”

  His eyes softened slightly.

  “He saved me when he didn’t have to, Damien. I’d already turned him down before that. He didn’t owe me anything.”

  He gave a slight nod.

  “I feel that’s reason enough.”

  “Why do you think I’m sitting here?” he asked quietly. “Because it does change things…”

  There was finally hope, finally something to latch on to. “So…you give your blessing?”

  He sighed deeply, his breath so shaky that it must hurt his lungs. “One right doesn’t erase all of his wrongs, Catalina. That’s not how life works.”

  Disappointment filled me. “This is the man I’m going to spend my life with, Damien.”

  “You haven’t known him that long—”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I snapped. “He’s the one. I need you to do this—”

  “You really think Dad is gonna be okay with this? You don’t know him the way I do. You don’t know how protective he is of you.”

  “I do know that,” I whispered. “But I have faith he will listen to me. And his feelings about it have nothing to do with yours.”

  “So even if Dad hates him, you’re still going to be with him?” he asked quietly.

  It pained me to go against my family’s wishes, but I’d tried to live without Heath so many times, and every attempt was so unsuccessful it was laughable. “Yes.”

  He bowed his head slightly, as if that answer was disappointing.

  I placed my hand on his arm and gave him a gentle squeeze.

  He took his time before he looked at me, before he forced his gaze to mine.

  “Try.”

  He stared at me in silence.

  “I’m not asking you to feel differently about him overnight. All I’m asking is for you to try.” I squeezed him harder. “Try to have him be a part of our lives. Try to include him in our get-togethers. Try to look at him the way I do.”

  Now, he closed his eyes, like the request was physically painful. “I’ll try…but that’s the most I can do.”

  Damien just left. Where are you?

  He texted back immediately. Sitting in my truck outside.

  Come up.

  Alright.

  I waited for him to climb up the several flights of stairs and walk through the door. Damien had literally stepped foot outside of my apartment just seconds ago, so depending on where he’d parked, they might cross paths.

  A minute later, Heath’s heavy footsteps sounded outside the door.

  I got out of the chair and pressed my injured foot to the floor, my crutches inaccessible since they were on the other side of the room.

  He opened the door and immediately glared at me for trying to get to him on my own. He pushed the door shut behind him then walked to me. “Baby, enough with the walking.”

  “I didn’t have my crutches—”

  “But you have me.” He picked me up and carried me to the couch in the living room, so we could sit together. He held me across his lap so my legs could rest on the cushions, one arm supporting my back while the other rested on my thighs. He looked at me with his pretty eyes, his expression the same, like Damien hadn’t told him anything he wanted to hear. He looked concerned, like he worried how our conversation had affected me. “Are you okay?”

  My arms circled his neck, and I held him close, rubbing my nose against his. “I’m fine.”

  His eyes moved down to my lips, and he gave me a gentle kiss, his mouth parting my lips so he could taste me.

  “He asked me about what happened…but didn’t ask for details.”

  His expression didn’t change.

  “Then I asked him to try, and he said he would.”

  His eyes narrowed in surprise, like that hadn’t been addressed in their conversation. “Really?”

  I nodded. “So, I’m happy…”

  His hand cupped the back of my neck, and his fingers gently rubbed into me. “I don’t know how you managed to pull that off.”

  “I think it’s fair, considering what you did.”

  His eyes softened. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I do—but I already paid you back. He, on the other hand, does. He owes you the chance.”

  He shook his head slightly. “I disagree, but I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to move forward.”

  “Me neither.”

  “So, now what?”

  I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see how it goes…”

  “And your father?”

  “I don’t know. Haven’t thought about it much.”

  “Well, I’m ready to meet him whenever you think the time is right.”

  I thought it was sweet that he was brave enough to face him, to tell him what he’d intended to do to him months ago, and still hope he could look past it…because he loved me so much.

  “Did you tell him…about our engagement?”

  I shook my head. “Did you?”

  “No,” he answered. “I thought it should come from you.”

  “I think we should wait…”

  He didn’t argue.

  “It’s not that I don’t—”

  “It’s okay.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

  My hand cupped his cheek, and I kissed him, my thumb feeling the coarse hair along his jawline. In just a few more weeks, I would be able to have him how I wanted, make love to him whenever I felt like it.

  He kissed me back, kissing me like my damaged ankle hadn’t changed the way he felt about me at all. He wanted me just the same, no matter how broken I was, even if my family hated him.

  When I pulled away, I rested my forehead against his. “He mentioned that guy who conspired against you…”

  His body stiffened, no longer affectionate. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “It’s not going to be a problem—”

  “No. I’ll kill him.” He pulled away, looking me in the eye with seriousness. “Don’t worry about that, alright? That’s my problem—not yours.”

  “Well, you are my problem, Heath.”

  He rubbed his nose against mine. “My stubbornness is your problem. But all that other stuff is not.”

  Fifteen

  Heath

  When I went to the Underground that night, I decided to slit Vox’s throat on the spot. It was his second betrayal within a few months, and he didn’t take advantage of the mercy I’d offered. I’d marked him as a blood traitor, took away any chance he had to sit on the throne, and he still defied me.

  He had to go.

  Once I was in the room, I searched for him in the sea of faces. He and his comrades usually occupied the same table every time, but that table was empty. I found Steel and walked up to him. “Where’s Vox?”

  “You didn’t hear the news?”

  I stilled, knowing this would piss me off.

  “He left—took his men with him.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “They just walked out and said they weren’t coming back. They forfeited their cuts for the month.”

  Was this seriously happening? “He expects to take me down? When I have more men than him?”

  “He didn’t say anything about that.”

  “Then what other reason is there to leave?”

  He shrugged.

  “I just found out he was planning another coup.” When he’d spoken to Damien, and then Damien delivered money immediately afterward, he probably found that suspicious, too suspicious to be believed. So, he took off.

  “You should have killed him—”

  “Shut up. I’m tired of hearing that shit.” Now it was unclear if he’d taken off to start over somewhere else, or he was simply regrouping to take me out. I gripped my skull and started to pace, furious with myself for granting mercy, for giving in to my popularity rather than making the best decision.

  Steel watched me. “Moving against you is suicide. He
probably just found a better way to make money—”

  “He’s the most spiteful man I’ve ever met. Finding him is our number one priority. You understand?”

  He nodded.

  “Shoot him on sight. I don’t care who pulls the trigger, doesn’t need to be me.” I didn’t care if I got to witness the light leave his eyes. I just wanted him in the grave—covered with dirt.

  I returned to her place right away because I didn’t want to leave Catalina alone in the apartment. She had an alarm system, but that wasn’t enough when I wasn’t around. Instead of waking her up just to scare her, I slept on the couch, close to the front door, my gun on the coffee table.

  The most logical guess about Vox’s plans was that he intended to leave the country. He could never make money doing anything else under my rule, because once he was found, we would kill them. He was smart enough to figure that out. To stay in the city just to kill me seemed pointless, especially when he would never rise to the throne through assassination, which wasn’t the proper channel to take the reins. The rest of the Skull Kings would kill him because the action was a betrayal. If he really wanted to take me on, he had to do it in the ring with a fight to the death. But he could never ask for the opportunity since he was a blood traitor. And if he wanted to take Catalina, that wouldn’t accomplish anything either—because he had nothing to gain from it.

  Unless torturing me was all he wanted.

  I hardly slept that night because I couldn’t stop thinking about Vox. If he was still in the city, it wouldn’t take long to find him, unless he was locked up somewhere, biding his time. And if he left the country, I definitely wouldn’t find him then.

  Catalina woke up and used her crutches to get to the bathroom. When she spotted me in the living room, she stopped. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

  I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

  “I’d rather be woken by you than wake up alone.” She used her crutches to move toward me, the rubber bottoms tapping against the hardwood floor with every move she made. When she reached the couch, she balanced on one foot then sat beside me.

  I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her everywhere, kissed her on the neck, the collarbone, and then the lips, pushing her hair from her face so I could enjoy her, appreciate the fact that she was really mine, that I would never have to lose her again.

  Her arms circled my neck, and she pulled me close, hugging me tight like she’d missed me all night. “Heath?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Why do I feel like there’s something wrong?”

  I held her against my chest, my face hidden from her because her chin was on my shoulder. My arms squeezed her tight, and I sighed. “I think we should stay at my place for a while.” It was much safer there. She would be protected when I wasn’t there. The new door I’d gotten her was nothing compared to the security equipment I had there.

  She slowly pulled away, reading my eyes like the answer to her question would be in my gaze.

  I told her the truth. “Vox took off with his men. I don’t know where he is.”

  “Okay…”

  “He probably took off when he figured out I knew what he’d planned. He’s probably already out of the country and I’ll never see him again.”

  She waited because she knew there was more.

  “But I might be wrong. He might still be here.” I didn’t tell her the exact details, that he might kill me…or hurt her. It was implied in my silence, in the way I gave her so little information. “My place is better equipped. It’s safer—for the both of us.”

  Instead of getting scared or asking a million questions, she nodded. “Alright. I’ll get my things.”

  “You don’t have to stay with me. If you’d rather be with Damien—”

  “I go where you go, Heath.” The resolution in her eyes told me she was certain, that she understood what she’d signed up for when she agreed to spend her life with me. There would be dangers. There would be uncertainty. But she could handle it.

  My hands cupped her face, and I brought our foreheads together, closing my eyes as I held her. She was loyal to me like my men, loyal to me like a soldier on the same battlefield. That was what I needed in a woman—bravery. “You’ll be safe. I promise.”

  I moved her clothes and essentials to my place and stocked my kitchen with everything she might need when I wasn’t home. I hadn’t been there much, so I had nothing but unperishable products.

  I suspected she wouldn’t return to that apartment, not unless it was to remove her things for good. Why would she live there alone when she had me? She would live here with me, whether she was my wife or not.

  When I walked into the bedroom, she already had her things in my closet. She moved my clothes to the other side, getting them out of the way so she would have room. Leaning on one of her crutches, she hung up another shirt before she noticed me.

  She turned around, looking slightly guilty. “I hope you don’t mind…”

  “Not at all.” She could throw all my clothes on the floor and take up every inch, and it wouldn’t make a difference to me. I walked into the closet and wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her and balancing her on one foot. “I was going to make dinner. Any requests?”

  “No. I like anything you make.” Her hands planted against my neck, her fingers reaching up to my face as she rested her face close to mine, her eyes looking me over like she couldn’t believe I was hers, couldn’t believe how much she loved me.

  I never thought a woman like her would want me, not when she could have any guy she wanted. But she went against her brother’s wishes to be with me, accepted the danger my title caused without blinking, chose to be with me even though I led an underground army of criminals.

  That kind of love was unconditional.

  Unstoppable.

  I pulled her closer and kissed her, tugging hard because I wanted to hold her so close that she was practically inside me, her heart beating right directly next to mine, pumping together. I wanted more of her than I could have, wanted the kind of closeness that simply wasn’t possible on the planes of our physical existence. Maybe that wouldn’t happen until we shed our bodies and traveled as two spirits.

  When I pulled away, I pressed my lips to her forehead and kissed her, kissed her in a way I’d never kissed another woman. It wasn’t sexual, possessive, or lustful. It was adoration, the best way I could worship her, express the depth of my love in an unquestionable way.

  Her first session of physical therapy wasn’t easy.

  She struggled, grew so frustrated that tears were in her eyes. She pushed herself further than she could handle, wincing in pain because she was trying to force something that just wasn’t meant to be—yet.

  When we got into the truck, tears dripped down her cheeks.

  “Baby—”

  “I’m never going to be able to dance again.” She closed her eyes and covered her face, like she didn’t want me to see her break down.

  I kept my voice gentle, reminding myself that I couldn’t hammer into her without empathy, that I couldn’t give her the tough love I naturally wanted to respond with. “Baby.” I grabbed her hand and pulled it from her face.

  She twisted out of my grasp and covered her face again.

  So, I decided to try to talk to her. “Baby, that’s not going to happen—”

  “I could barely do anything he told me—”

  “It’s your first day.” It hurt to see her like this, to watch her break down with hopelessness. “You know what my first day was like?”

  She stopped sobbing, as if she wanted to listen.

  “It was rough, Catalina. Really rough.”

  She sniffed and dropped her hands.

  “I never told you that because it’s not me—to complain. But it was really hard. I was scared I would never be me again. But I did it. And if I can do that, you can do this. You think a broken ankle is gonna stop a powerhouse like you?”


  She’d stopped sobbing, but leftover tears streaked down her cheeks.

  “Nothing is gonna stop you, Catalina. It’s gonna take a few weeks, but you’re going to get there. And you’re going to dominate that stage just like you used to. No one is gonna give a damn about your understudy. She didn’t get the part in the first place for a reason—because you’re better. Much better.”

  She wiped her fingers over her cheeks, her mascara running.

  “You’re gonna get there. I promise.”

  “How can you promise that?” She finally stopped crying. She sighed and looked out the window.

  I grabbed her chin with my fingertips and forced her to look at me. “Because it’s you.”

  I called in every favor.

  No one had seen him.

  No one had heard from him.

  My men were combing the streets, questioning everyone, doing everything they could to track him down.

  Nothing.

  I tried to convince myself that he simply took off to save his own ass, that he took his friends so they could start over somewhere else, like in Scotland or Russia. They would start their own business away from my jurisdiction.

  But I couldn’t lower my guard.

  Anytime Catalina went anywhere, I was with her. Even if I was dead tired from working late the night before, I always escorted her. I wouldn’t take any chances leaving her alone, even though she was capable of taking care of herself under normal circumstances.

  She improved with physical therapy, getting stronger with every session, until she was finally able to walk normally without the crutches. She couldn’t move quickly, but she was walking, and that was all that mattered.

  And her fire started to come back.

  I made dinner in the kitchen, mushroom risotto with grilled chicken on top. Spending so much time with me had taught her how to cook, so she helped me most of the time, and I suspected she would do it on her own eventually.

  Not that I minded cooking for her.

  I set the table with a bottle of wine, and we sat together, like we did every night.