CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

El

HE WAS GONE.

The breakfast table was empty.

I was barely able to choke down some cereal before I went back to my room and then hung my head as I walked through the shared bathroom and knocked on his door.

The door creaked open.

His bed was made.

The lights were on.

But he was missing.

Tears filled my eyes. How could I have ever thought that this man in this room would be anything but incredible to me? Dangerous and good all wrapped up in one perfect package.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I knew who it would be.

I didn’t want to look at the text.

Didn’t want to see a stupid emoji from Chris for as long as I lived.

Voices sounded in the hall, I hurried back into my room just in time for Trace to walk in with Bee.

They both had babies on their hips, making the mafia family life look like a goal that was actually achievable. I’d always wanted kids.

It’s why I was so attached to Xavier’s.

I’d held them when they cried.

Told them stories when they were afraid.

A part of me still longed to hold them — but they were better off with a real family, not memories of the one they were in with me.

Where we took turns getting beat.

Where I did the best I could to take the beatings for them so they wouldn’t have to experience pain when you should only experience unconditional love.

“Hey,” Bee’s bright smile was so opposite of Phoenix that it was weird. She looked like Tex in that moment, tall, commanding, and yet approachable. Her little boy was trying to pull her hair in a vain effort to get her attention. With a sigh, she handed him a fruit snack and kissed his head. “Mama’s talking, baby.”

His eyes widened as he shoved the fruit snack in his mouth.

“So,” Bee licked her lips and looked between me and Trace. “I was thinking we should hang out today, do something fun, get out of the house and leave the kids with the guys. Phoenix already said he’s down for a dad play date with Nixon and I figured since you were—” She stopped herself. “Here, it could be fun, besides you probably leave soon with Chris, right?”

At the sound of his name, I wanted to puke. I didn’t want Chris anywhere near me. Why had I thought I wanted him?

His kiss paled in comparison to Dante.

And now that Dante was gone.

I choked back a sob and nodded my head. “Yeah, sure what did you guys have in mind?”

“A movie!” Trace almost shouted and then frowned. “Sorry, we don’t usually go to the movies… so it’s always a big deal when we do.”

It was my turn to frown. “Why don’t you guys go to movies?”

“It’s a good place to get shot,” Bee said in a completely bored tone. “It’s dark, only one exit — you know that sort of thing, but Nixon very kindly bought out the entire theater for us and we’re bringing a few guys just in case.”

My jaw dropped. “All of that for a movie?”

“I’m really passionate about Ryan Reynolds.” Trace nodded her head solemnly. “We invited Mo and Val too, but Val might be too busy with Sergio so…”

“Too busy?” I wondered aloud.

Bee scrunched up her nose. “They’re still in that gross honeymoon stage where it’s their only purpose in life to christen every room in his ginormous house.” She snorted. “I almost feel bad for Dante having to witness all of that.”

My head jerked up. “What? Why would he be witnessing that?”

Bee pressed her lips together, her face guilty. “He’s staying over there for a few weeks… it’s been hard on him being away from his twin.”

“Oh.” Rejection slammed into me swiftly, painfully. “I guess that makes sense.”

He’d left me.

And I had no idea why.

No more nights where he held me while I slept.

No more shared bathroom.

Just. Gone.

“So…” Trace propped the baby onto her other hip. “We doing this?”

“Yeah.” I ran my hands through my hair and put it up in a quick ponytail. “Let me just grab my stuff.”

“Great!” Trace said as she wandered out of my room.

Bee stayed.

Her eyes were sad.

I hated that look.

It held way too much pity.

And it was all directed at me.

“I’m married to the scariest of them all,” she said in a low voice. “I’m married to a man who tried to rape and murder one of my best friends.” She took one step, then two. “I sleep with a man who keeps not one, not two, but seven knives all within a foot of our bed.” She stopped when she was directly in front of my face, she matched me for height, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world. If you sent me to suburbia I would lose my mind. If you told me to get a normal job where I wasn’t flanked by security all hours of the day, I’d be so bored I’d lose my ever-loving mind.” She huffed out a sigh. “This life is what you make it, El. I’m scared every day of my life. But sometimes I wonder if that’s what makes me feel alive. Living isn’t being shut in a small safe box where nobody and nothing can hurt you — living is feeling the pain and making every second count.”

She walked away.

I collapsed onto the bed and put my head in my hands, I didn’t even realize I was crying until someone handed me a tissue.

I took it.

Bee and Trace helped me to my feet and pulled me in for a hug, but not before Bee asked Trace if she packed her gun.

It was a dangerous world for them.

And they were some of the happiest people I’d ever met.

I was the miserable one.

And I wondered if that misery wouldn’t just increase the minute I left this house and stepped into Chris’s very safe, very boring, arms.