Chase
I was doing dishes.
As if it was completely normal to have sex with my employee on the kitchen counter, eat on it, then clean up.
Something was seriously messed up in me.
And yet, I felt no guilt.
None.
I’d shown her my black soul.
And she’d kissed me anyway.
I had nothing to feel guilty about.
I’d protect her from the grave.
And leave this earth knowing at least one woman found me worthy of something other than being her bitch.
Anger rippled through me as I grabbed another plate. I exhaled slowly and tried to focus my thoughts on Luc’s body.
But my brain kept pulling me back to the past. It lingered there too often, like a puzzle I would never figure out but torture myself with for the rest of my existence.
Nobody knew the hell I lived with.
The chaotic thoughts of my own personal tragedy. What if? What if? What if?
That was my song.
My chorus.
My blood sang it, even as my anger tried to overtake it.
“Hey,” Luc said, making me nearly drop the plate onto the counter.
I tried to appear unaffected by her smile, but it was impossible; the woman seemed to smile over everything.
Especially food.
She’d been so thrilled to have dinner I’d half expected her to get naked again.
“Hey,” I said back, my voice less confident than before, my darkness returning, because that was what it fucking did. I never felt the light long enough to hold on; it always slipped away.
Darkness always took over.
Leaving me exhausted.
And angry.
“So I was thinking…” Luc leaned across the counter.
“Me, too,” I answered. “I’m firing you.”
She jerked back.
I smirked. “I’m kidding. But how about a little proposition?”
“This should be good,” she said under her breath.
I smiled, my chest lightening a bit. I liked that she wasn’t as terrified as she had been before. I mean, she’d thrown a water bottle at my face with intent on physical harm. That was progress in my book.
Which was completely messed up if that was my way of gauging someone’s interest, but whatever.
Luc pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head and crossed her arms. I liked it, the relaxed look, I liked her naked more but figured if I said that, she’d just think all I wanted was sex.
Which was only partially true.
I wanted to live.
Before I died.
Funny how when faced with your own demise, you see things you never really saw before. Like the few freckles splattered across her cheeks, or the slight curve of her upper lip making it impossible for any sane man to look away without thinking of it wrapped around him.
I braced for her anger, welcomed it, even as I rapped my knuckles against the counter and slowly made my way toward her closed-off form. “Wait until after the commission, then you can get back to work.”
“Commission?” She frowned. “Like the city commissioner?”
I tried not to crack a smile.
She glared.
“Sorry.” I licked my lips. “I forget you weren’t born into terror.”
Her face fell as she lifted a shoulder. “Just a different kind of terror, Chase.”
The foster system.
I reached for her, not sure what I was trying to accomplish, just maybe the old Chase recognizing the human need for comfort, and the dead Chase awkwardly trying to remember what that looked like, felt like.
I touched her hand.
She squeezed it back then pulled me closer until our bodies were inches apart. I hovered over her, at least a foot taller.
Damn, she was too small for this big world.
Too innocent.
Too dangerous.
Fear lit my blood on fire as I watched her eyes search mine. “So what is it then?”
“Wine?”
“Wine is the answer for everything?” she asked in a slightly more optimistic voice.
“It’s flavored water. That’s how often we drink it.” I grabbed a bottle and two glasses and then moved to the table.
The lights were still off, but it was shockingly bright in the kitchen, probably because of all the snow falling.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” She stared out at the snow as if it was a Disney movie, and we were the stars.
Wrong. Genre.
“Yeah.” I squinted out at the snow falling across the damn pool and all the memories of that fucking back yard. “Beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re not seeing it.”
“I think I am,” I said in a stern voice. “Two inches of snow, covering all the pavers and the pool. Snow I’ll need to shovel tomorrow. Snow that will melt into dirty snow. Just… snow.”
She gaped at me. “No! That’s not it at all! You’re wrong.”
My lips parted in surprise. Nobody told me I was wrong. Unless they wanted to see what heaven looked like, or hell, depending on the person. “Well then, what do you see?”
She stared out, her smile relaxed, happy. I had no idea what those words felt like anymore. “A fresh start. Blank canvas.”
I sucked in a breath.
“Sure, the snow’s going to get dirty, but that happens after a fresh start, right? You fall down. You get back up. It’s all in how you see the bigger picture. You can blame the blank slate for missed opportunities, or you can embrace it and all the things it has to offer and learn from it. Every fresh snow…” She quirked her lips. “…when I was a kid, at least…” Her eyes met mine. “…was a promise that I could change things, that if the snow got a second chance, so could I.”
My heart thudded.
It hurt to breathe.
I broke eye contact and looked down. “People are rarely given second chances in life, Luc.”
“Because they’re the ones refusing to take them.”
Did this damn woman have an answer for everything?
“So…” I changed the subject. “…the commission.”
She grabbed her wine, swirled it around in her glass, then took a sip. “Yeah, why is it important that I stop working until then?”
I shrugged. “Burn out?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been here a little over a week. Nice try.”
“Things…” I chose my words carefully. “…will be different after the commission, alright? I won’t be around as much.” Or at all, if they have it their way. “It’s been a hard year, and you make me laugh.” Butchering it. I was completely butchering it. “I just—”
She put her hand on my arm. “You want to spend time… with me?”
I nodded.
“As my employer?”
“Hell no,” I growled.
“Okay.” She looked down at her lap.
I tilted her chin up. Her eyes were worried.
“I won’t touch you unless you want me to, I promise. Tell you what, in the mafia we have a little thing—”
She gasped.
I rolled my eyes. “Like you didn’t know.”
“Nah, it’s just weird hearing you say it.”
“Even weirder than finding a dead horse head in your bed, am I right?”
She paled.
“Shit, I was kidding.” Light spread through my chest then disappeared as fast as it came. Damn, my body felt heavy without it. “In the mafia, we have things called markers. If I give you my marker, it means I owe you a favor, and if I don’t own up, then you have a right to take my life.”
Her eyes widened. “That seems… severe.”
“Life is severe.” I looked away.
“So I spend time with you… until this weird commission thing, and I get a favor? Any favor?”
“Exactly.”
She seemed skeptical. She should be. “And this commission… it’s what exactly?”
“A meeting.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “We have them sometimes when there are disputes within the Families. It’s a normal occurrence.”
She sighed. “Can I ask you something, then?”
“Sure.” Maybe. My breath hitched.
“Why me?”
Because she was the opposite of everything I’d had with Mil. Because she reminded me that I was still human. Because she made breathing hurt a bit less. Because if I didn’t make it through the commission, it would be these moments with her that would remind me that humanity wasn’t all damned.
That if I could protect her now…
Be with her now…
At least I’d know I left one good thing behind the mountain of bodies I was taking to the pit of hell with me.
“Because you’re you,” I said, hoping the simple answer would be enough.
Clearly it was. Tears filled her eyes as she nodded her head. “It’s nice to be wanted for being you, isn’t it?” And then those intelligent eyes flashed to me, fucking seeing through my soul with such laser-like intensity, I almost shoved her away, almost screamed, almost lost my shit.
And then her hand was on my arm as she whispered, “Okay.”