Six months later
“Three bumps, not two,” Lou said.
She giggled as I dropped my head to bump my nose with hers. I kissed it, then tugged her duvet higher. “Love you, little Lou.”
I blew a kiss to Funshine Bear next to her, my old ragdolls in the corner of her room on the bookshelf. “Love you, Jemma-poo.”
Smiling, I switched out the light and headed to our room to find Tom.
“Are you ready?” I called, grabbing my brush from the dresser and tugging it through my hair as I walked deeper into the room. “We need to …” I trailed off, noticing he wasn’t even there.
My shoulders fell, and I sighed as I trudged to the bathroom to quickly swipe some mascara onto my lashes. I’d changed into a yellow and black polka dotted sundress and spritzed perfume on before I realized he was obviously held up.
I was nervous enough as it was, given our family’s history, and therefore kind of pissed he was going to make us late.
Thomas couldn’t work for a few months after his surgery, and although he didn’t need the money, I knew he was itching for the return of what he deemed as normality.
After we went to court, where Milo was sentenced to twelve years, he’d settled some, but I knew it was only a matter of time before we had a new visitor, or he was gone for days or weeks.
Milo was arrested before he could leave the hospital. Attempted murder and kidnapping charges were brought against him by me, and the witness in the stairwell of my apartment solidified his guilt.
We’d locked eyes a few times as he sat on the stand. His burning with a million questions and obvious accusation. Mine just looking. Taking in the man who’d changed my life in unforeseeable ways. Seeing him again, knowing that my statement would help put him behind bars, wasn’t what wracked me with guilt. It was seeing Shelley, his wife, as she sat stoically in the back of the courtroom, barely a hint of emotion on her beautiful face that did that.
I’d wished I’d had it in me to walk away. To not say a word, for I didn’t know. I wasn’t responsible for ruining their lives. They were.
Yet once Milo was taken away and most of the room had emptied out onto the street, I’d stopped her outside on the sidewalk. A quiet apology was ready on my lips, but her smile, even as it wobbled, told me all I needed to hear.
She didn’t blame me.
And as Thomas walked over and stood at my back, all she did was nod, then walk away.
I didn’t know if that would be the last attempt to bring Thomas down. All I knew was that if and when they tried, we’d be ready.
Grabbing a pair of ballet flats from the walk-in closet, I slipped them on and then raced downstairs.
“Oh, hey,” Murry drawled, halting below the stairs when he saw me. “You look lovely.”
“Where is he?”
Murry’s eyes danced anywhere and everywhere to avoid meeting mine.
“Murry,” I warned.
“He said he’d just be half an hour.”
“Let me guess, an hour ago?”
He shrugged, then wisely walked away.
A minute later, I entered the code and pushed open the door, making sure it shut behind me.
“That’s not an answer, Gregory.”
“It is, I swear—fuck.” The words were cut off by screaming as I rounded the stairs.
I waited, hands on my hips, until Thomas dropped the molar into the silver tray behind him. “What’s wrong, Dove?”
“What’s wrong?” I repeated.
The guy in the chair, blood gushing from his mouth, stopped moaning, and bounced his eyes between us.
“Excuse the intrusion, Gregory. I’ll just be one moment.”
“No, we need to go.”
Tom blinked up at me, then stood from the stool and plucked the crimson-colored gloves from his hands.
“You forgot, didn’t you?” I asked.
The middle-aged man, with sweat beading on his forehead, clenched his hands as he studied me.
“Hi,” I said, for lack of anything else to say to someone who might not live.
Understandably, he didn’t respond, but his fingers wiggled where his hand was strapped to the armrest.
“Dove, what have I told you about talking to my visitors,” Tom said beneath his breath.
I rolled my eyes, and his jaw twitched.
His visitor, Gregory, smirked, and I wished he hadn’t as more blood oozed from whatever crater Tom had created in the man’s gums.
“And I didn’t forget,” he said, brushing by me to the bathroom. “I merely lost track of time.”
Walking after him, I hissed, “We’ve put this off for months, and you merely lost track of time?”
He scrubbed his hands while I glared at the back of his head. “If they’re talking, Dove, they’re talking. It’s easy to lose track of time.”
I sighed. “Whatever. Please, just hurry up.”
Thomas patted his hands dry on a towel, then snatched my wrist as I went to leave. “No need for sass, Dove. I know you’re frustrated.”
“If you know, then you need to hurry it up already.”
He didn’t move a beat, and I groaned, trying to wrench out of his hold.
His laughter made me pause and had my frustration curling into a tiny ball. A tiny ball that exploded into dust as he lowered his head, his nose skimming my cheek. “When you get mad, all I want is to devour your pretty mouth.” Lips met my skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps as they dragged to my ear. His teeth gently took my lobe, then released it. “Until you’re nothing but pliant flesh, all mine for the taking.”
Moaning from the chair in the next room had my libido checking itself, and Tom sighed.
“Let me put him to sleep, and I’ll be right up.”
With a kiss to my forehead, he left, and I headed upstairs to wait.
“It would seem you have the rest of the evening off, Gregory. You can thank my Dove for that.”
Smiling, I closed the door and shook my head.
Did his occupation, for lack of a nicer word, still bother me? In some ways, yes, it still did.
I wasn’t immune to that kind of violence. I didn’t think I ever would be. But I respected that part of him, and I knew he got more than financial gain from it.
Perhaps one day, his need for that kind of release would fade some more. Maybe even completely.
But if it didn’t, I’d still be there, shining what light I could on my dark prince.
My dad set two beers down on the table with a thump, foam exploding from the top of the bottles as he eyed Thomas, then took a seat.
“How’s the new job going, Jem?”
I took a sip of water. “Good. It’s only part time, but …” Thomas took my hand in his and squeezed a little. “I think I can see myself staying there a while.”
Three months ago, I started a new job teaching third graders at a small school in Minnen, a neighboring town of Glenning. The very same school Hope and I had attended as kids.
There were only twelve children in my class, and I was job sharing with a woman who’d just returned from maternity leave, but I liked it.
And so did Lou, which is how I came to apply for a position there in the first place. Thomas had transferred her at the start of the new school year, and although she was upset over not seeing Rosie as often, the change was good for her, and she adjusted quickly.
“It’s gotta be like taking a trip down memory lane every day,” Dad commented with a smile. “Much nicer than that uppity place in the city anyway.”
“It is,” I agreed.
Dad set his sights on Thomas. “So what is it you do for a living again?”
“I run my own business,” Thomas said. “Dental surgery.”
I sawed into my steak, taking a bite and chewing slowly.
“How was the parade, Dad?” I asked to steal his glare away from Thomas.
Thomas didn’t seem to care and cut into his food with measured precision.
“The kids loved it. Raised a lot of money this year.” He took a sip of his beer. “It’d be great to have you attend once in a while. You don’t need to be a kid to enjoy it.”
“We’ll take Lou,” I told Thomas.
Thomas paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, then nodded.
I guess attending a parade thrown by local police departments wasn’t exactly high on his list of fun things to do. But reaching under the table, I squeezed his thigh for at least acting as though he’d do it.
“Lou? Is that the daughter Jem was telling me about?”
I grinned as a smile transformed Thomas’s neutral features. “It is.” He paused, seeming to weigh his next words. “She’s excited to meet you.”
My dad stammered around the smile he tried to hold back. “She … yeah? Bring her over next time.”
Lowering my grin to my plate, I focused on eating, all the while wondering how Thomas could win my dad over, even just a little bit, without even trying.
Word never got back to my dad about my visits to Lilyglade’s police department. I suspected the employees were told to keep their traps shut, and I knew Beau had his friend hack into their database to wipe any evidence.
The conversation turned to Lou, Thomas telling Dad about her upcoming piano recital, and then turned to football as it just so happened a game was on in an hour. Thomas wasn’t interested in sports, other than swimming, but he knew enough to humor my dad.
I could tell he’d reached his limit when he placed his cutlery down and gently pushed his plate away. “Thank you, it was delicious.”
My dad nodded, acting as though he thought nothing of it. But even though he knew his steak was always overdone and his mashed potatoes too runny, I knew he appreciated it.
“While I’m here, I’d like to ask your blessing for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
My hand almost missed the table as I set my glass back down.
My dad’s eyes widened, his brows gathering as he rubbed his chin. Seconds dragged into a minute. Then finally, he said, “Are you going to ask her anyway?”
“Of course.”
Dad bobbed his head side to side. “I like your honesty.” He looked at me. “You want to marry this one? For real this time?”
I looked at Tom. “Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
I gave my eyes back to Dad. “Yes.”
“Has he asked you?”
“At least once a month for the past six months.”
Dad’s eyes bulged even more, and his gaze swung to Thomas before he shook his head in disbelief. “Right. Well, shit. Don’t let me stop you.”
I took our plates to the kitchen and scraped them clean as Thomas listened to Dad prattle on about some of the livestock he’d had trouble with lately, and some more about the previous week’s game.
Spying on them through the little window, I saw Thomas nod and heard him say one-word responses at all the right moments.
It wasn’t until I was stacking plates in the dishwasher that I heard Dad say, “Say, what’s your last name? I could’ve sworn I’d met you before.”
“Verrone.”
Shit.
“Huh.” A pause, then, “Were you related to the family who used to live here in Glenning?”
Thomas didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I’m their son.”
Double shit.
I ditched the plates and raced back into the dining room where the sound of crickets could be heard above the two men staring at each other. “It’s been so great to see you, Dad. We need to go—”
“Wait a damn minute,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing. “You live at the abandoned place next door?”
“It was never abandoned,” Thomas said, rising slowly and buttoning his suit jacket.
My dad’s mouth opened and closed, and I knew it was due to him not knowing what to say. If he said too much, he’d have to admit too much to me and possibly to himself.
So, he snapped it shut and let me kiss him on the cheek. He even shook Thomas’s offered hand before we raced down the porch steps and headed for the trees.
“Dove, the car is back that way.”
“We’ll get it later.”
We made it to the tree line before I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I doubled over, laughter pouring out of me. The sound of Thomas letting his own free had my head rising, and I took his hand, dragging him inside the woods. “He liked you.”
He grinned. “For a few minutes.”
I swiped beneath my eyes, still smiling. “That’s longer than he’s given anyone else.”
Thomas shrugged, pulling me in the other direction. “I don’t care.”
“No?” I frowned.
“No. Because now”—he stopped and dropped my hand to retrieve the ring I knew he’d been keeping in his jacket pocket for months—“I can finally see you in this.”
Three clustered diamonds shimmered beneath the glow of the moon and stars. Small, elegant, and … “It’s stunning.”
“Marry me, Jemima Dianne Clayton.” Our eyes locked. “Marry me because even though it will be hard at times, I promise you’ll never once regret it.”
“Put it on, Thomas Antonio Verrone,” I whispered.
With gentleness that set every nerve ending aflame, he took my hand and slid the ring into place.
His lips stretched into a satisfied smile, and pulling me closer, he lifted my hand to kiss it. “It’s not worthy of your finger, but I’m starving to see you wearing this and this only.”
I hummed and took a step back.
With curious eyes, Thomas watched me lift my dress over my head.
When I unclipped my bra, dropping it to the dirt, he found his voice. “What are you doing?”
“Wearing the ring only,” I said while shimmying my panties down my legs.
He looked around at the trees, then snapped into action.
His jacket was first to go, and he didn’t even get his pants all the way down before I hauled him to me and took his mouth.
His hands were everywhere as his tongue slid over mine. Up my back, holding my breasts, framing my face, and then finally, they settled on my stomach, and he carefully spun me around.
He moved my hair aside, his hardness pressing into my lower back. “So not only does our baby make you feisty, but he makes you daring, too.”
We’d found out I was pregnant two months ago when I’d made plans to go back onto the pill and taken a pregnancy test first. It was early; I was six weeks along at most when we’d found out, but the look of pure, unbridled joy on Thomas’s face erased any worries I had.
He’d already ordered nursery furniture and informed his clients he’d be taking a leave of absence for six months after he or she arrived.
“He?” I sighed as his lips moved down my neck, sucking and licking.
“He,” he stated with that unnerving confidence.
Before I could press him more, a hand snuck between my legs, and my thighs shook as they opened.
“I love you,” he murmured, lips hot on my shoulder as he slid his fingers through me, then raised them to his mouth.
My legs almost buckled, my need for him too strong to keep standing.
And with the stars, the trees, and the glowing eyes of wildlife watching us, he lowered me to the ground and settled between my thighs.
“Monster,” I said on a sharp inhale when he pushed inside.
“Mmm?” He moved my legs behind him, then cradled my head in his hand.
“Give me your eyes.” The day I’d almost lost something I never knew I’d need so fiercely was permanently etched in the center of my heart, and on bad nights, the memory turned dreams into nightmares.
After a few nights of Thomas holding me to him as I woke drenched in fear and sweat, I’d told him about it. That I feared what might happen if I couldn’t see them, see him.
“After,” he’d murmured to me then, just as he did now. “No end, Little Dove. Only always.”
In the place where I first saw him with the eyes of a girl, in the place where fate first threaded my soul to his, I took his face. I took it and held it with the hands of a woman as he made love to me beneath a blanket of winking stars, and I wished for nothing.
Regretted nothing.
Not when every step I’d taken, every good and bad decision I’d made, brought me to him.
To my dark prince, my monster, and my after.
The End