Chapter Seventeen
We left NoMa and headed back downtown by cab. The three of us were silent on the way. There was too much to talk about, too much to say. And while Sayer and I had seemed to work past a few issues, Gus was on the opposite end of the spectrum.
When I was saying goodbye to Conlan, out of the corner of my eye, I had watched Sayer try to talk to Gus, but Gus wasn’t interested in what Sayer had to say. He’d left the room. We found him on the front stoop with another bodyguard when we’d walked outside.
I felt bad for Gus because I could relate. I knew what it was like to think you understood a person and then found out you didn’t. At all. I also particularly knew what it was like to be a victim of Sayer’s brand of manipulation and secrets.
The difference between Gus and me was that Sayer was also a victim of my lies and deceit. And Gus had been nothing but loyal and honest.
“I’ll take this cab back to my house,” Gus said when we neared Sayer’s apartment.
Sayer’s blue eyes sparked with something. I thought it was regret, but he was impossible to read, especially in the dark. “Are you sure, man? We could talk about—”
Gus shook his head. “That’s all right. I’ll be over tomorrow. You can fill me in then.”
“Okay.”
Gus sat in the front next to the driver, so I slid forward and put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, if you ever want to swap war stories, I’m here for you.”
He shrugged off my hand and I shrunk back. I’d meant to lighten his mood by teasing him, but it only seemed to worsen. “Yeah, you’re here. After I came and got you.”
Shoot. “Augustus…”
He shook his head back and forth. “Caroline.” He exhaled in a way that I could tell he was trying to get himself under control. “Listen, I’ll be fine. I just need the night, okay?”
Sayer and I both answered with an identically contrite, “Okay.”
Once we’d reached Sayer’s building, the cabby pulled to the curb and let us out. Sayer tried to pay, but Gus insisted he would get it once he got to his place.
We watched the cab drive away and stood there for a long time. The stakeouts probably ate up our melancholy huddle, wondering what we were doing just standing on the sidewalk not doing anything.
Taking Sayer’s hand, I tugged him toward the building. I had never seen him so visibly helpless before. Even when he’d received his sentencing, he’d been pissed, but also determined and confident.
He looked lost now, hurt in some colossal way. “Are you okay?” I asked him after we’d stepped into the lobby.
His head dropped, and his body turned to stone. “Fuck,” he growled at the carpet.
“Hey…”
He pulled away from me, pacing a short distance away before coming back. “He deserves better than that. Than me.” His tortured gaze found mine. “I should have told him. I don’t even know why I didn’t… I guess… I guess there’s just a point when you’ve kept a secret for so long you don’t know what else to do with it other than hide it. I… Fuck!”
I threw my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his. “Oh, my gosh, stop!” His hands settled on my waist as if he couldn’t help himself. “Stop, Sayer. This is Gus. Okay? He’ll be fine. Hell, he’ll even understand. Just give him a minute to calm down.”
“Would you understand this? Would you forgive me for this?”
Pulling back, I gave him a look. “I already have.”
His lips flattened together. “You’re mad too?”
I rolled my eyes. He couldn’t be serious. “Sayer, I’ve known you most of my life and I never knew you were in league with the Irish and the Italians. Seriously, Yakuza? I’ve never heard you say anything but negative things about them. It’s obnoxious that you had all these game plans but we never knew what they were. You took over an entire city from behind bars, and neither Gus nor I even knew you were trying. You’re good at what you do. Really good. The fucking best. You’re also really good at keeping secrets and lying to the people you care about. Sometimes that’s a hard pill to swallow. Gus will forgive you. Of course he will. But it’s a lot, okay? He needs to process everything.”
His eyes narrowed as he absorbed my theory. I could tell he wasn’t sure if he wanted to believe me or not. “Why are you so okay with everything?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Listen I’ve been dealing with shocking surprises for weeks now. Do you remember running into me at the restaurant? I didn’t handle that well at all.”
One side of his mouth kicked up in a small smile. “I forgot how fun it was to rile you up until that night.”
Resisting the urge to kick him, I tried to step back. His hands tightened on my waist and pulled me more firmly against him. “And I forgot how obnoxious you are.”
“Liar.” His expression melted into something like adoration. “That’s something you can’t forget.”
This time my laugh was genuine and warm and so comfortable. “Very true.”
His expression sobered, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against mine. “We’re going to get him, Six. We’re going to finish this forever.”
“Are you sure you want to?” I whispered, afraid of the answer. “You’ve fought so hard for this. If you don’t want to walk away, then don’t.”
His hands moved to the small of my back and I leaned into him, my chest against his, my heart beating in rhythm with his. “If I’ve fought hard for anything, it’s been you. If I’ve wanted anything at all, it’s been you. If I’ve loved anything in this life of mine, it hasn’t been the brotherhood or the bratva or thieving, it’s been you. It’s always been you, Caro. From the day I met you till the day I die.”
I struggled to breathe evenly as his words washed over me, setting me on fire with the love I had once felt for this man. Only now it was deeper, stronger, more eternal. After all this time, to finally be with him again was… overwhelming.
Most of my life could be summed up with loving this man. And despite our time apart, I knew the rest of my life would be written the same way.
There was only this love for him. Only Sayer. And now we could be a family. Now he could be a part of Juliet’s life and my life and our forever. Maybe happily ever after wasn’t such a crazy concept after all.
I lifted to my toes and pressed my lips to his, unable to resist the gravitational pull that always existed between us. He was there to meet me, ready and waiting.
His lips were impossibly soft compared to the solid arms around my waist and the rock-hard chest supporting me. They were gentle, but insistent. Considerate, but hungry. He deepened the kiss almost immediately so our tongues could tangle and we could truly taste each other.
My hands moved to the back of his head, to the lush strands of his thick hair. My skin tingled at the instant intimacy we found, and a fire began to burn low in my belly. I wanted this man. Needed him.
One of his hands bunched up my tunic, pulling it out of his way so his other hand could find my skin. We both made a sound at the skin to skin contact, his heat against mine.
“Caroline,” he murmured, tearing his lips from mine to trail kisses along my jawline and down the column of my throat. “Fucking need you all the time”
I shivered at his words, gripping his head as his face buried between the valley of my breasts. He nipped his teeth at the inside of my breast. I squeaked, surprised and aroused and so in love all over again.
The main door pushed open and a resident stepped inside, forcing us to jump apart. Or rather, I jumped back from Sayer and blushed the color of a ripe tomato from head to toe. Oops. I had totally forgotten we were still in the lobby of his building.
The security cameras probably got a really good show. Consequently, Mason and his minions did too.
The redness on my cheeks turned to a mottled purple, but Sayer was all smug smiles and arrogance.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the elevator. “Can we go upstairs now?”
“I’m waiting on you,” he accused.
My timing was bad again though as we stepped into the elevator with the person that had interrupted our make out.
Sayer didn’t seem bothered at all. He wrapped an arm around my lower back and pulled me into him. The stranger, a middle-aged man in a rumpled suit and loose tie, cleared his throat nervously—as if we were going to pick up right where we left off.
Sayer wasn’t put off at all by the embarrassing attention. In an amused tone he asked, “Do you have kids?”
The guy half turned around, surprised Sayer was talking to him. “Uh, yeah, two.”
Sayer smiled. “Then you know what it’s like trying to find some alone time. Take it where you can get it, am I right?”
“Er, I’m divorced.”
The elevator came to a stop on the fourth floor. Sayer chuckled, enjoying the guy’s discomfort. “Good luck to you then.” The guy snarled, leaving the elevator without another word.
“You’re ridiculous,” I told him once we were headed upward again.
“What?”
I gestured at the door. “Because you know so much about being married with kids?”
He laughed again, only it had a richer, warmer feel to it. “That’s all behind us, Six. We’re in this together now. Come what may.”
The elevator doors opened again before I could respond to that. As if I could even respond to that.
The lights were off when we walked into the apartment, but the TV was on. Frankie sat on one side of the couch, Cage on the other, Juliet sprawled out and asleep between them.
“She woke up,” Frankie explained in a whisper. “She was missing you, so I let her watch TV. Do you want me to move her?”
“Leave her there for a minute,” Sayer said. I gave him a curious look, but he ignored me. “And why don’t you crash at Gus’s tonight, Frankie.”
Her eyes bugged. “Are you serious?”
“You’ll be safe there,” he insisted. “Cage can take you over.”
“Am I not safe here?” she pushed.
Sayer kept his straight face while I died with embarrassment. “No.”
“All right,” she finally agreed. “I suppose you’re due for some… family time.”
Sayer made a humming noise. “Long overdue.”
I slapped a hand over my eyes and groaned. “Oh my God.”
Frankie laughed as she got up from the couch, careful not to disturb Juliet. “Let me grab my things.”
She disappeared into her bedroom and Cage walked over to talk to us. “Your FBI friend came up and introduced himself tonight.”
Sayer’s good mood died.
“Mason?” I asked.
Cage rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I think he thought Frankie was up here alone with Juliet.”
“Frankie?” I asked again, feeling like a parrot. “What do you mean?” A hundred possibilities spun through my head. Was Mason trying to recruit Frankie for his case? Did he want her to testify against her uncles? Did he want to use her against me? Had he hoped to get Juliet too, and use them both?
Cage finally put me out of my misery, glancing down the hall and then dropping his voice even lower. “Apparently they know each other.”
“Who?” Oh my God, could I say more than one word at a time? No. The answer was no.
“The agent and the princess.”
“Mason and Frankie?” There. Three words in one whole sentence. Boom.
Cage groaned at my obtuseness. “Yes, the FBI agent and your friend. There seemed to be… history there.”
“No.” My answer was immediate and final. “No, they don’t know each other. She knows about him from me. And he knows about her because he’s FBI. But they don’t know each other.”
Cage raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “That’s not what it looked like to me.”
Irritation got the best of me and I snapped at him. “Are you playing matchmaker, Cage? I thought you didn’t believe in love and all that?”
He made a face. “Who said anything about love? I’m just saying… things were tense between them.”
Frankie’s bedroom door closed as she stepped into the hallway and we all jumped apart like we were in junior high whispering secrets about the popular girl.
“What?” Frankie asked self-consciously.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. Sometimes I was the best liar on the planet. Sometimes I was a freaking moron. “Cage was just telling us that Mason Payne stopped by for a visit.”
Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “He’s so entitled. I found him highly obnoxious.”
“Thanks for sending him away,” I told her honestly.
She made a sound in the back of her throat and her lip curled. Okay, according to her facial tics, she really hated Agent Mason. “My pleasure.”
Not knowing what to make of any of it, I decided to change the subject. “Well, uh, thanks for babysitting for us.”
She stood at the door with Cage. “Did you make any progress?”
“We met Sayer’s bff, Conlan O’Donnell. You might know him as the head of the Irish mob.” Frankie’s eyes got huge and her mouth unhinged. “Oh, and we decided to kill Atticus.”
She floundered for a second, but finally managed to say, “Sounds like a productive night.”
Sayer opened the door, at the end of his patience. “Gus can fill you in.”
Cage and Frankie shared a look but thankfully didn’t make another comment. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow,” I promised Frankie, hoping she didn’t feel too bad about being banished. “We have plotting to do.”
She grinned at me. “Don’t stay up too late. You need your beauty res—”
Sayer slammed the door shut before Frankie could finish her sentence. He flicked three deadbolts, a chain and handle lock into place. I hoped they didn’t forget anything.
“Will she be okay there for a little bit?” Sayer asked as he peered over at Juliet asleep on the couch.
I nodded tentatively. “What do you have planned?”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me after him. “Bed.”
“What?”
“I’m taking you to bed,” he said, his voice pitched low and firm.
“Oh.”
His glance back at me was all wicked heat and toe-curling desire. My knees shook, and I kept myself standing by sheer force of will.
“You’re sure she’s okay out here alone?” he asked one more time when we reached the threshold of his bedroom door.
“I mean, she’s sleeping. As long as she keeps sleeping then yeah.”
He shut the door behind us. “You’re going to need to be quiet.”
I turned to face him. He had a dangerous energy that buzzed over my skin, making me nervous. “I-uh—”
His eyes sparked with fire as he moved forward, forcing me back. “It’s not going to be easy, but I have faith you can manage.”
The backs of my legs bumped against his bedframe. “Wh—”
I didn’t get the chance to finish my sentence, because his mouth landed on mine and I was swept away in another round of delicious kissing. We crashed together in a lightning storm of desire and need and impatience.
He pushed me back on the bed and I wiggled to the center. He followed me, resting his weight on top of me, our legs tangling together. I stretched out, letting my entire length press against his. God, it had been such a long time since we were on an actual bed together—since before he went to prison.
My core ached with need almost instantly. His hard thigh was there to soothe, pushing against the center of me and promising so much more to come. His hands added to the maddening want building inside me. Finding my breasts under my bra, rolling and pinching my nipples until I was a gasping, panting mess.
He took his time kissing me, savoring my mouth and the taste of me. We moved together in familiar perfection. The day’s stubble scratched my skin, reminding me of how often I had enjoyed this, how the feel of him like this was enough to make me combust on the spot.
Eventually his kisses moved to my throat, his tongue gliding along my skin, his teeth scraping just enough to drive me wild. He tugged my low-cut shirt and bra down so he could kiss the tops of my breasts, getting a quick suck on my nipple before he pulled back again.
He sat up and we struggled to strip my cardigan off together. I tossed it off the bed. Impatiently, he yanked my shirt off next, throwing it behind him. My bra was quick to follow, discarded somewhere in the mess of clothes around us.
I laid back down on his bed, topless and self-conscious, my hair spread everywhere. He loomed over me, sitting back on his knees to take a long look. He sucked in a sharp breath and I watched his eyes darken with lust.
His hand reached out, tracing the swell of my breast with one shaky finger. “So goddamn beautiful.”
“Sayer,” I begged, pleaded.
My voice broke the spell and his hungry gaze met mine again. I tugged on the hem of his shirt and he quickly unbuttoned it. His wrists got trapped in the cuffs for an unbearable second before he managed to free himself.
He was over me again, his hot, hard chest making me shiver as he lowered himself. We kissed again and again and again. Neither of us in a hurry to get through this. This was all about taking our time, enjoying every second, every sensation.
When his kisses moved lower they didn’t stop this time. He pulled my leggings off, and then my underwear, burying his face between my legs. I clung to the sheets as he feasted on me. The pressure built slowly, gradually, a sweet torture that spread through every limb, a fire burning so hot it consumed me.
By the time he’d pulled a delicious orgasm from me, my head was thrashing back and forth, and my moans were anything but quiet.
Reluctantly, I relaxed my thighs from the vise grip I had on his head and he looked up at me all male satisfaction and unquenched need. “Missed that,” he murmured.
“God, me too,” I panted breathlessly.
His dark chuckle curled over my skin, spiraling desire through me all over again. His eyes blazed, revealing the identical inferno inside him. He splayed his hand over my belly, staring at it in wonder for a long moment, before crawling back to his knees.
While I tried to stop my head from spinning, he divested himself of his jeans and pushed inside me. I gasped at the feel of him, stretching me, pushing me, chasing me toward another blissful ending. My hands landed on his shoulder blades and even though I was lying down I had to hold onto him to steady myself.
He thrust into me deeper, and deeper, and deeper. There was nothing outside of the bed, nothing outside of his body inside mine. I was reduced to desire and the greedy need to have more of him—all of him.
His impossibly strong arms were braced around my head, biceps bulging as he supported himself. God, the sight of him over me was enough to satisfy my fantasies for the next hundred years. He was a sculpture, carved perfectly to show off the male form. He was a fallen angel, pieced together by heaven itself. He was beautiful and broken and mine.
“More,” I gasped. “God, Sayer, more.”
He obliged, driving into me until every muscle in my body tightened and pulsed and eventually gave way to a blinding explosion. We came together in a cataclysmic finale that I was surprised didn’t shake the entire apartment building. His head dipped low and our cheeks pressed together as we eased out of the intense moment together.
When it was over, he collapsed beside me, nestling his face against my neck and throwing his arm over my middle. We caught our breath like that and I cherished every second of his warmth and raw strength, of having his naked body tight against mine, of rescuing this rare thing I had thought was lost forever.
He lifted his head and gave me his full attention again. “I love you, Caroline. I’ve never stopped. I will never stop.”
I had been waiting for those words for years, since the moment I decided to leave him. I’d been empty for five years without them. I’d been lost and hopeless and not myself. And even though he’d said them already, even though he’d already healed the painful ache and forgiven the worst of my sins, I was wholly unprepared for the force of them now, the whole-body devastation that washed over me, crumbling whatever walls and resistance and fear I had left.
There were moments between us where I knew I would never know the real truth, that some of his secrets would always and forever be sealed. But this… this I knew to be the complete and utter truth.
He did love me. He had always loved me. He would always love me.
Tears fell from the corners of my eyes, landing in my wild hair. “I love you too. I always have, Sayer. And I always, always will.”
We stayed like that for an eternal moment, long enough to turn our words into an oath, our bodies into a covenant. When at last we pulled apart to clean up and change the sheets, my entire body felt different—physically, emotionally… everything. He’d come back into my life like a hurricane. He’d utterly annihilated everything I thought to be true about him or this world or my future. And then he’d somehow put me back together.
It hadn’t been gentle or soft or considerate. But here I was, standing on the other side, a stronger, better, whole girl. And despite our current insanity, I also had a clear vision of our future. Together. As a family. Away from this hell and in a version of heaven that only we could carve out.
When we crawled back into bed together, I curled into the nook he made under his arm for me, and had to close my eyes at the sweetness of it. “We need to start using protection,” I said before I fell asleep. “Or I’m going to end up pregnant again.” It was one of those things I hadn’t had to think about in five years. But forgetting about it was unacceptable at this point.
He rolled over, pulling my back to his chest, spooning me the way we used to. His lips disappeared in my hair and I felt him breathe against my shoulder blade. “I don’t see the problem,” he murmured.
“Yeah, right,” I laughed. He was obviously joking.
Before sleep took hold, I had the fleeting thought to double check that he was kidding. Emotional and physical exhaustion took over and I was lulled in deep by the heat at my back and the worshipful way Sayer held me against him.