Nix
I thought nothing would beat our first innocent kiss, but our shared kiss inside a bathroom while Grace was on the toilet tops it.
Giving her lips one more peck, I try to pull her up, but a shriek louder than Rachel’s almost breaks my eardrums.
“No! Just go! I don’t need help.”
“What the hell is going on in there?” Nate’s voice surprises both of us. “Who needs to go, and who doesn’t need help?”
Grace tries her best to push me out of the bathroom without actually getting up, keeping herself fully covered. I walk out, locking it behind me. I take a deep breath, ready to read Nate the riot act.
“Do you know the meaning of the word privacy?” I immediately go to work, making coffee for the angel hyperventilating inside my bathroom.
“Whoa, bro. Why the negative vibe so early in the morning?” Nate sniffs like a damn hound dog. “I can smell love in the air.” He snaps his fingers and grins. “Oh, can’t forget that few drops of sexual tension! My nostrils are enjoying that sexual potpourri scent in the air.”
I ignore his ribbing. Nate’s innate ability to read someone’s emotion with impeccable perfection is mind-boggling. That is why he excelled in the Green Beret. Outside the Army’s Special Forces, he is one of the best interrogators in our business.
With two cups in my hands, I march toward the island. After putting the cups down, I lay my palms flat on the counter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I’m saying is, respect my space.”
Nate jumps on the barstool and leans forward resting his elbows on the granite countertop. “Look, I know Tanya was here last night because I reviewed the tape. Part of our SOP, remember? Anyway, I know her arrival probably put a huge kibosh on your plans. So, I’m here to give moral support.” Nate’s lips spread into an amused grin. “But I think you ironed that shit out, right? In the bathroom of all places. Please tell me she wasn’t taking a dump. Because that’s just messed up, bro! You need to learn some boundaries. You know give people some privacy.” He playfully glares at me.
Before I can answer, Grace walks into the kitchen. “Good morning, Nate.”
“Hi, Gracie!” Nate waves at her and wiggles his brows at me.
She mouths, thank you, after taking a sip of her coffee. She gives Nate a side-glance and then asks under her breath, “Um, can we go to church?”
A few seconds pass, and then she looks expectantly at me.
“Just tell me when,” I answer over the rim of my cup.
“After I finish this.” She raises hers and smiles.
“You don’t want toast? I can throw one in the toaster.”
“I definitely want one, but who cares about me? Actually, go ahead.” He flails his hands, urging us to continue our semi-private conversation. “Have your little powwow. Open communication is a key to a successful relationship.”
While I give Nate a death glare, Grace continues to drink her coffee. He jumps off the barstool and gives me a one-fingered salute. Nate struts toward Grace and throws in a few small pecks on each of her cheeks.
“You don’t have to kick him out, you know.” Grace grabs my cup and takes hers to the sink where she begins to wash them.
I chuckle, standing behind her. “Oh, trust me, I needed to do that. So, are we leaving now?” I ask, whispering in her ear.
She nods stiffly and blows out a breath.
Sensing her discomfort, I ask, “Are you uncomfortable with me being this close, or are you still pissed about last night?”
“It’s not that.” She pauses and then confesses, “Well, the uncomfortable part is all me, okay? What happened last night is a totally different story. I’m not mad, just…jealous.” Her voice trails off. “I’ve never, ever been jealous. I know it’s wrong. I shouldn’t feel that way because we’re not anything to each other. But I can’t help myself.” She sighs heavily. “I want to pull her hair…hope she trips over those impossibly high heels—” She gasps. “See? I need to go to confession, like, right now.”
She groans, and I lean forward, witnessing her guilt-covered face. The guilt in her voice should make me feel bad. Instead, it makes me smile because she’s just so adorable in her fit of jealousy.
I grip her hips, pulling her closer to me. “Honesty, right?” I say, whispering. My lips touching her ear. “So, here it goes. Tanya and I used to hook up—a lot. I’d get what I wanted from her. Apart from that, she means nothing to me. I had an awakening of some sort last night. I was able to resist the urge to give in to whoever and whenever.” I spin her around, lifting her chin to meet my eyes. “Whoever could be any girl, and whenever is when the urge arises.” I cup her rosy cheek.
“I’ve also realized that my need is far greater than my want. I can want anything because I know I can get it. Anytime. Anywhere. With anyone. But it only leaves me unsatisfied. What I’m trying to say is, I need you. You. Not her. Not anyone else. Just you. I asked her to leave, Grace. And, yes, a part of my body might have touched a part of hers…”
She closes her eyes, as if in pain.
“Show me the greens, baby. We operate only on the truth, remember?”
Slowly, she opens them, meeting my eyes once again.
“But please know, I didn’t instigate that touch. I also felt nothing.” My eyes bore into hers. Willing her to believe me. Hoping she trusts me with her heart. “Nothing. Other than guilt eating me up because I was hurting you.”
Our eyes dance against each other. Waiting for understanding to set in, I close my eyes, resting my forehead against hers.
“My soul needs you, Grace. I’ve never needed anyone as much as you. And that isn’t just a line. It’s what’s in my heart.”
“I understand. It hurts, but I understand,” she whispers. “And, if I’m a little salty, just give me the same level of understanding, okay?”
I chuckle. “All right, fair enough. Let’s go to church, and we can be salty together.”
She gifts me with a satisfied smile. Then we leave my unit hand in hand.
As we exit the elevator, she pulls me to a stop. “Wait, we’re not taking the motorcycle, right?”
Tucking a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear, I answer, “No. We’re taking the truck.”
She sighs in relief, earning a chuckle from me. The ride to church is a relaxed one. Much different from when I take Mama Ada, Pops, and Grace to church every Sunday. Today is the only day I feel carefree and less vigilant. Possibly because I’m riding high on her being mine. I park the truck at the same spot once we arrive.
Once inside the church, we take a seat close to the confessional booth. I sit quietly next to her until she’s done praying the rosary.
“We should come on Saturdays since there’s no one here.”
“I guess,” Grace whispers as she puts her rosary in a pink pouch and drops it in her purse.
A man dressed in black with a white collar comes out of a doorway next to the altar. I follow him with my eyes until he goes inside the confessional booth. As soon as the light of the confessional booth turns on, Grace stands and gives me a wave good-bye. Once she’s safely inside, I lean back, cross my arms over my chest, and close my eyes.
Suddenly, someone’s hand clamps tightly around my neck. The pointy edge of a knife is pressed against my skin. I don’t put up a fight and slowly raise both arms.
“Don’t even think about making a move. You might fuck me up, but my men will fuck up someone you love for me. Your sister-in-law, for instance, might or might not get into a very bad accident.”
I push my head back, and the motherfucker digs the tip of the knife deeper.
“One that might end up killing her. That would definitely fuck up your brother.” He snickers while I clench my teeth. “Do you understand?”
My heart drops while I chastise myself for letting my guard down. I should have been more watchful, more aggressive, more on the fucking defense. If I time it just right, I can take this fucker down.
“What is it that you want?” I ask through gritted teeth.
He moves closer. His lips touching my ear. “Give her up.” His hot breath against my skin further fans my fury. “Who is she to you? Her family fucked with mine, and now, she’s fucking with yours. I have nothing to lose now after what her fucking father did to mine! But I have a pick of who dies in yours. So, if you want to get her out of your hands, meet me at the Dana Marina Plaza courtyard this Sunday. Be there at twelve thirty and not a second late.” He loosens his hold on my neck and adjusts his grip on his knife. “Think hard, man. She’s not worth it.”
I nod stiffly.
“Is that a yes?” He jabs the knife deeper. Again.
“Yes.” The word comes out forced. My voice rough.
“You’re one smart man. Now, remember, do not attempt to follow me. Keep thinking about that sister-in-law of yours.”
The whoosh of cold air hits my neck when he releases me. I aim my eyes at the confessional booth, willing everything in me not to follow the motherfucker.
“Please come out. Please come out.”
When the door swings open, I leap over the pew separating us, grab her, and shield her body with mine. As her eyes grow to the size of saucers, I continue to back us up behind the booth.
“Relax,” I say as calm as I can. “Are you positive that a priest is inside there?”
Her eyes widen even more. “Yes. It’s Father Cunningham. We both saw him go in. Plus, I know his voice…and he asked about Mama Ada. Why?”
I nod. “I need you to stay close. I’ll explain everything in the car, all right?”
She nods, and I kiss her forehead, letting my lips linger against her skin for just a few seconds.
After, I reach for my Glock and flip the safety off, and then we move.