Chapter Eighteen
Jess
I never felt this way with Jake, this intense rush of warmth that invades my core whenever Snake is around. I fought it for so long, that when Snake finally unleashed it on the beach, I thought it would swallow me whole.
It’s early morning. I’m on the couch with the laptop, checking Toby’s work. Snake emerges from the bedroom, his usually perfect dark hair tousled with sleep, wearing nothing but a pair of designer boxer shorts. He stretches his arms above his head. The snake tattooed on his inner arm tantalizes my eyes. He smiles at me with a sleepy gaze, then saunters over to where I sit. His arms are warm as he wraps them around me. He kisses my neck, and then my lips, with a low growl rumbling in his throat. An erotic euphoria floods my lower half. Snake looks at me, biting his lower lip, then turns his gaze to the computer.
“How’s it look?” Snake asks.
“Good,” I say, choking back the quiver in my voice. “Toby’s got everything set up. The front and backend looks great. He’s covered his tracks nicely.”
Snake grabs my knee, then trails his hand up my thigh. “Now we just wait for the cash to roll in.”
I smirk at him, closing the laptop. “Some exciting lifestyle you lead. I might as well be in my office.”
Snake shrugs. “I didn’t need some fancy degree to get here.”
Snake goes to the kitchen to get coffee. I snatch a magazine from the coffee table, and flip through it. This issue is several months old. I’ve probably flipped through it dozens of times. I barely read the words.
I hear Snake in the kitchen, but I can also feel his presence. It’s a thick, dark, visceral energy that radiates from his powerful body. This is so much different than it was with Jake. My late fiancé was always busy, it seemed. He left for work very early in the morning, and came home late at night. I didn’t mind. I didn’t need to be around Jake all the time. And when he wasn’t around, I barely thought about him.
Snake is so different. Since I met him, he’s gotten under my skin. Even when I’m not with him, I feel him. And just the slightest look from Snake is enough to make me shiver. I knew it was there from the moment I met him. I thought I could push it down, fight it off. But Snake wouldn’t let me.
And the sex, it’s on another level. Jake and I had a regular sex life. He was a handsome man with a nice body and wholesome good looks, so I was attracted to him. But sex with him was like a duty, another item on the to-do list. When we finished, I never felt so much satisfied as I did accomplished.
With Snake, it’s not an obligation, it’s pure compulsion. My attraction to him is magnetic. And when we press our bodies together, it’s like our flesh merges together in hot, throbbing mass. His every touch threatens to shatter me. Every orgasm with him is a revelation.
I never questioned my love for Jake, until now. To the person I was back then, it didn’t matter if we didn’t have an all-consuming connection. Jake simply ticked all of my boxes; handsome, educated, and gainfully employed. That was all I needed at the time. But I’m not that person anymore.
I toss the magazine back on the coffee table, and walk into the kitchen. Snake’s back is to me as he examines the contents of the fridge. My eyes trail over the peaks and valleys of his muscular arms, his firm ass as it slopes into thick, rippled thighs.
I lean against the counter casually. “So if all we have to do is wait, I imagine you’ll be moving out soon.”
Snake chuckles into the fridge, then turns to me with a side-eyed gaze. “Nope.”
A warmth blooms in my chest. I want to ask if he’s staying with me because he’s still watching me, or because he wants to. The glint in his eyes tells me it’s the latter.
“Then what do you want for breakfast?” I ask.
Snake stands up straight, closing the refrigerator door. “What have you got?”
I open the cabinets, and see little more than an ancient box of microwave popcorn. “Nothing,” I report.
We go to a restaurant down the block that’s dressed up like a kitschy diner and serves things like avocado toast and kale omelets in true LA fashion. I decide I could use more green vegetables in my life, so I order both.
We chat while we wait for our food. Snake is always touching me in one way or another. Either he’s holding my hand, caressing my arm, or rubbing his foot against my leg. I know what he’s doing. He’s displaying his ownership over me, both to the other diners, and to myself. This should offend me, but it gives me a warm, safe feeling.
I cut into the avocado toast and take a bite. For a vegetable, it certainly is creamy and satisfying. I know the man in front of me on an intimate level, but there’s still so much more I don’t know. I decide to change that.
“So,” I start, glancing down at my omelette. “I gave you my sob story. Now you owe me yours.”
Snake stabs the stack of pancakes with his fork, leaning closer to me. “It’s like that, huh? Quid pro quo?”
“I’d like to know more about the man sharing my bed,” I say.
His eyes dart to the side. I can tell he’s not entirely comfortable talking about this. Well, tough shit. I told him about my dead fiancé, and he knows all about my failed attempt to avenge his death. I stare Snake down until he starts talking.
“I grew up in the boys’ home,” he says. “I was your cliched, dirty fucking street urchin. Running around, getting into trouble, fights, petty theft. Never could find any foster parents willing to take me on.”
Snake laughs at this, but I imagine him as a lost, feral child with anger boiling within him. He was probably mad at the world, and had no idea why. I reach across the table and grab his hand. For the first time in a long time, I’m not too wrapped up in my own misery to feel sympathy for another person.
“Your parents?” I ask.
Snake’s face goes a shade darker. He brushes it off with a nonchalant attitude. “I don’t remember much about them, to be honest. They died when I was three years old.” He fiddles with a fork, reading the question that’s all over my face. He drops the fork with a solemn look. “Murder-suicide. My dad shot my mom, then shot himself.”
“Oh God.” I squeeze Snake’s hand.
Snake shakes his head. “They left me. So fuck them. From what I understand, they were junkies, and barely took care of me while they were alive. I don’t know why my dad did it. I heard all different stories, that my mom was cheating on him, or that she was trying to rob him. Maybe he was just out of his mind with the drugs. They did me a favor, actually. They got out of my way so I could meet my real family.”
“The Mariano’s,” I say, my throat dry. I struck against his family. The magnitude of what I did to him hits me all at once.
“That’s right. Salvatore found me on the street. He saw my potential, and took me in. I haven’t turned back since.”
Until now. Snake gives me a long, dark look, and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing. He’s currently having breakfast with the enemy. This shared thought plants a kernel of fear in my mind.
We finish breakfast. Snake pays the check, because he never lets me pay. When we walk out to the parking lot, he asks me for the car keys. I don’t think much of it at first, so I let him drive. But when I get into the passenger seat, dread settles heavily in my stomach. The Mariano’s are his family, and I tried to kill one of them. Snake’s heartbreaking story showed me just how much he cared for them, how much he thinks he owes them. How could I expect Snake to forgive me for that, or to ever trust me again? My palms start to sweat as paranoia sweeps through me, tingling every nerve.
Snake doesn’t take the normal route to my apartment. I stay quiet, trying to work everything out in my head. He has what he wants now. Toby’s system is in place. Like he said, all he has to do is wait for the cash to roll in. He doesn’t need me anymore.
“Just a quick detour,” Snake says, flashing me a smile.
Don’t forget that you’re riding with a murderer, I think.
Snake is a man of absolutes. His loyalties lie with the Mariano’s. Not with me. But that means everything was a lie, every touch, every kiss. Maybe he was just having fun with me before he killed me, or maybe he fucked me just to show that he could.
We come to a small shopping center that’s far flung from the congested city. My mind races with possibilities as Snake stops the car. Is he going to force me to get out? Make me get on my knees and beg for my life?
Snake smiles at me, cutting the engine. “You wait here.”
I watch him waltz into one of the stores. It’s a squat building in a pueblo motif, with neutral, stuccoed walls. Maybe this was planned, and there are other Mariano’s waiting for him inside. Maybe he’s fooled me this entire time, and hasn’t kept my secret. Maybe everyone knows, and they were just waiting for everything to fall into place before killing me.
The wind whips up dry dust, swirling up a dirt devil that lives a brief, jumpy life. What should I do? Run? Hide? I can’t think of a good enough excuse to save myself. With my quest for revenge put on hold indefinitely, and without Snake, I can’t think of anything to live for. Maybe I should just sit tight, and accept the fate that I always knew was coming.
I’m looking down when I sense Snake walk out of the store, and approach the car. I want to feel the bullet, sharp and quick, before my heart can fully process that it’s breaking. He opens the car door, and I see a flash of color in the corner of my eye, forcing me to look. When I see what he’s carrying, I almost want to break into tears. It’s a bouquet of daisies in pink, white, and yellow. He gives me a cocky grin as he hands me the flowers.
“Something to brighten up your apartment,” Snake says. “It’s so drab.”
I take the bouquet from him and breathe in the sweet scent. He’s watching me eagerly, wanting to know if he’s pleased me. He’s not going to kill me. That means that he doesn’t hold my assassination attempt against me. He’s holding me before his family. Does that mean that he-
“What is it?” Snake asks, slipping his arm around my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s, um, allergies,” I say, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. “Thank you. This is really sweet.”
“That’s my job, right?” Snake says, holding me closer to him. “I haven’t done this boyfriend stuff much, but really, it’s a piece of cake.”
Boyfriend. Not only is he not killing me, he’s tying himself to me with this label. It’s an act of kindness so huge, I can barely fathom it, and something I never expected from a mafia soldier.
This is entirely different than Jake. Snake’s looking past my flaws, past my misdeeds, and he’s seeing me.
And he’s not running away.
Back at my apartment, the flowers are barely in the vase before I’ve ripped Snake’s clothes off, and pushed him into the bedroom. He bends me over the bed, fucking me ravenously from behind. He yanks my hair, pulling my head back to ravenously kiss my lips. Through his clenched teeth, he hisses, “I fucking love you.”
He stops pounding me for a moment wrap me in his arms. I feel his breath as his chest expands against me. I can’t say anything. I lean back, burying my face in his chest. I don’t want to think about Jake right now, but I do. I can’t help feeling like I’m betraying him. The passion I have for Snake, no matter how intense, will always be tempered by my guilt.
Now I have to decide where my loyalties lie.