Not counting down the days to doom.
As I listened to Xander talk about how much he enjoyed watching the different seasons change and how he loved winter because of the snow, I imagined days spent with him, just like this. Talking and connecting on an emotional level, enhancing whatever we did physically. He’d definitely make some lucky woman a wonderful husband someday.
Maybe he had…
Maybe he’d had someone that way or someone close. The question was on my mind now and I was eager to know.
“Xander,” I began.
He smiled down at me. “Yes baby.”
I shuffled to straighten up and looked at him. “Did you … ever get married? Or meet anyone you wanted to marry?”
His blue gaze held mine, and the faint light that had previously twinkled in the depths receded, going out. When what I could only describe as unspoken pain came into his eyes guilt for asking the question tugged on my heart.
It was always his eyes that gave him away. Always his eyes, and now it was accompanied with the prolonged silence.
“I’m sorry… I.. I didn’t mean to pry. I just…” I was prying. That wasn’t a run of the mill question, and different to the do you have a girlfriend question.
Asking if he’d had a wife or anybody like that was totally prying. It was asking if he’d ever been in love. And, if that did happen he clearly wasn’t with her anymore so it hadn’t worked out.
My stupid foot loved to live in my mouth sometimes and I didn’t think.
“Don’t apologize.” He spoke in a low even tone and blinked, seeming to recapture his focus which was me.
“I should. I didn’t think. I guess I just wanted to know, and curiosity got the better of me.” It was a lame ass apology. An attempt to take back words I shouldn’t have spoken.
“The answer is yes. It was yes.”
Was…
So she did exist. I wasn’t about to make myself look worse however by asking to elaborate on what the ‘was’ meant, or prod any further.
“She… um… she died.” He filled in. He must have seen my internal struggle of wanting to know more. “She was killed.”
My eyes widened in response. I never guessed the was could mean that. You never tended to think of the worst possible thing.
“Oh my God, Xander I’m so sorry. I feel so bad for asking and making you talk about something so painful. I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through.
I knew from my experience with my mother that you never got over the loss. Each loss, depending on the relationship was different.
I’d never given my heart to anyone before.
Not before him.
I couldn’t kid myself. So much had happened but that spark of something, whatever it was, came alive every time I was with him.
“I’m really sorry,” I repeated.
“Thank you, but please stop apologizing,” he said, running a finger over the edge of my jaw. “I don’t want you to feel sorry about asking me stuff.”
“Thanks. I like knowing what I can about you.” I did. “I think she would have felt lucky to have you.”
He smiled at that. “Yeah?”
I nodded because that was a given. “Definitely.”
He looked like it meant a lot to hear that. I imagined that he must have loved her enough to want to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her. It was sad he didn’t get to be with her.
He was the kind of guy who wouldn’t cheat, and he’d make sure his woman knew how much he loved her.
That was how I saw him.
All she’d have to do is look at him and know.
“I think too… she was lucky to be loved by you,” I stated. “It must be nice.”
His eyes caught mine and the glint appeared again. The light came into his eyes as he looked at me, burning with a gleam that invited me to take a peek into his soul. The gleam called to me, telling me without words all I needed to know, telling me everything.
It was me who’d discovered that his eyes gave him away. They were doors to truth and all I had to do was look at him and I knew. I would know the answer to anything I wanted. Even an answer to a question I hadn’t asked.
Right now his eyes were telling me something. Showing me something.
Love…
That was what I saw.
I knew love when I saw it. It was right there in his eyes, staring right back at me.
Love…
I felt it like the strength of the passion that always took over when we were together.
It almost scared me. Almost. I wanted it too badly to be afraid.
He reached out and cupped my face, and I hoped he could see how I felt in my eyes too.
I loved him too. I didn’t need time to tell me that.
He reached out to touch my face and the contact of his fingertips on my skin made my whole body tingle.
I moved to him as he lowered to kiss me, pressing my lips to his for a kiss that sang through my veins. The series of slow drugging kisses were unlike the ones we’d shared before.
They reached into my soul and demanded that I surrender to the call of emotion.
Fire burned within me and turned the kiss needy, commanding us both to yield and not resist.
We kissed the clothes off each other and lost ourselves to passion’s call.
All the while he touched me I drank in the sweetness of the moment, knowing he was making love to me.
And me to him.
Chapter 14
Xander
I loved the way the sun shone down on her hair.
It picked out the lighter parts.
Her hair was platinum blonde so how I saw anything lighter was a mystery, but then I’d always been able to see things like that.
Attention to detail. That was me.
The essence of me. I paid attention and took note. Took note of what things looked like and things I used to call details, things like emotions. Normally I’d be trying to assess someone’s emotion or guess what they were up to. Bad guys, criminals, and those who helped further their pursuits.
Attention to detail. I was so good at it and it had taken me this long to realize I hadn’t just taken up some obsessive habit over this woman. I loved her.
I loved her…
I truly loved her, and this was goodbye. Except I wouldn’t say it.
I wasn’t going to say goodbye and that wouldn’t break the promise I made her because I’d seen her first.
There was yesterday, although it started out badly and I very nearly killed Armand. And, there was today.
Right now. This morning. It was all I could spare. Two more hours then Frankie would take over and I’d meet Wes at my apartment to set this plan in motion. From there I’d head to the secret chamber, get the blueprints and make way for the coast of Mexico.
I had it all planned out, all of it, that was my way.
Right now though, and for the next few hours, I was spending it with her in every essence of the word.
We sat in the diner she said served up the best food and I had to agree with her. We’d been here for the last hour talking it up like we were a regular couple.
We’d found one thing we really liked and that was music. Miss Jia liked old forties classics just as much as me. Her mother loved them and she fell in love with them too.
For me it was Jack. He played it all the time at home. All the time every day. It played in the background like it was part of the furniture. He’d said he’d gotten into it during the Gulf war and it helped him. That was his explanation. He didn’t explain how it helped him but he didn’t have to. I understood. He’d told enough war stories for me to get it.
It did the same for me.
“Billie Holiday. I love her,” Jia bubbled. We’d been listing our favorite artists and bands.
I nodded and smiled. “Absolutely baby, you can’t talk blues or jazz without mentioning her. Not one damn bit.”
“No, you can’t. One of my favor
ite, favorite movies is Forever Young, with Mel Gibson. Did you see it?” Her eyes sparkled with pure excitement. I loved seeing this side of her.
I saw that movie probably a hundred times, again with Jack. Jack and Claire though. Both of them loved that film. To answer her question I reached for the salt shaker, made a show of spilling a little on the table then did exactly as Mel Gibson’s character, Captain Daniel McCormick did when I dashed a pinch in my hand and tossed it over my left shoulder.
She smiled and brought her dainty hands together. I figured if it was one of her favorite, favorite movies, she’d get what I was doing. She did.
“Oh my gosh you saw it. I love that. Then you know too that there was a lot of Billie Holiday in the film.”
“There was heaps of Billie Holiday in the film. Sometimes I wonder if I watched it because of that. It just had a feel to it that made you wish it wouldn’t end.”
“Yeah, exactly.” She beamed but then something dimmed in her eyes.
It happened earlier when we woke up and she thought I’d left.
I’d left her side only to sit by the window and brainstorm as I watched the sunrise spill all over her.
When she saw that I was still there with her, the happiness was evident in her beautiful face. It even masked the bruise Armand had given her cheek. It helped me look past it and tamp down the rage that roiled within me because someone put their hands on her again.
The dimness came back to her eyes now, probably because of the feeling of not wanting this to end.
The time was also creeping up on us, two hours could go by in a flash.
“What got you into art?” I asked. It was the quickest thing that came to mind as I searched for something to bridge the moment.
She smiled again. “I looked outside one day and realized there was so much beauty all around me. It was all there, and each second was different to the next. Something could happen to change the scenery. Anything. A bird could fly by. The wind could rustle through the trees and change the way the leaves looked. Or, it could simply start raining. I love landscapes.”
“It definitely sounds like you.”
“Thank you.” She smirked and winced. “Oh Xander, I just realized I didn’t get to do a painting for you.”
I chuckled. “That’s okay.”
She paused for a moment and brought her hand to her cheek. “What will you have to remember me? I wouldn’t have given you anything you could remember from me.”
I shook my head and looked her over then placed a hand at my heart. “Here. I remember you here.”
For now.
That was the plan. For now, whatever that meant .
It was something that gave me strength and something to hang on to.
This was goodbye for now.
Her eyes brimmed with tears and she blinked a few times then moved to sit next to me. I placed my arm around her and met her half way as she came forward to kiss me.
We kissed and kissed.
Like yesterday, it felt different. More sensual. Because it was. We were something more.
Yesterday I’d allowed myself to fall for her. Another reckless activity on my part. Reckless. That was the best word I could use to describe my actions. Just like everything else I’d done when it came to this woman.
Reckless when I knew the danger in being seen with her. Reckless when I knew being with her was a massive distraction. Reckless when I knew I had responsibilities.
Definitely reckless in the way I’d dealt with Armand when I beat him to a bloody pulp and told him not to fuck with me or my girl. The threat was also a declaration that she was mine. Because she was. She was mine, and I knew the truth of the matter was, that if I wasn’t thinking of responsibility I would have taken her away from this life and had the whole fucking mafia on my ass. I would have fucking done it from the day Giovanni hit her, and we’d barely kissed then. That was me.
That was the guy I was. I would have seen it as a rescue mission, although I would have had ulterior motives in doing so. Knowing I wanted her for myself.
Responsibility to a bigger cause was taming me, making me stop and think about what could happen if I were truly selfish.
That mission in Kazakhstan, when Balthazar took Vlad’s research, was only one of several things that burned in my mind on what could happen at large if I abandoned my duties. On that occasion, The Ra were able to sell the research to a bunch of anarchists similar to them and they made some kind of biohazard weapon they used to attack Sierra Leone. Five hundred people died. Two hundred were left crippled from the attack and while the government was able to rebuild the community to some extent, it was never the same. How could it be with so much devastation?
The worst part, which yes to me was worse than what actually happened, was that the weapon was never retrieved and neither was the research. That meant they could use it at any time. They were probably sitting there waiting for the right time to strike and no one would be able to stop them.
It wasn’t my fault but Kazakhstan felt like a failed mission to me for so many reasons.
That was responsibility.
Recklessness was making me steal this time with Jia.
Everything else I’d done with her might have taken on the edge of madness. I blamed myself for the way that I’d slipped up so badly on many occasions, not this though. Not yesterday and not now.
Me being with her yesterday felt like something I owed myself.
I owed it to us to spend my last day or two with her.
She ran her fingers over my beard and pulled back so she could gaze into my eyes.
“I think the bed is calling to us.” She giggled.
“Yeah. I believe you’re completely right. I can hear it loud and clear. It’s telling me to take you there,” I answered pressing my forehead to hers.
She nodded. “Oh yes. That was the same thing I heard too.”
I moved back, stood up and put out my hand to her to take.
She placed her delicate fingers in my palm and I helped her stand.
Anyone who saw us would never believe the back story. The reality of us. Me the thief, and her the mafia princess who was leaving for Europe tomorrow to marry another man. A man who tried to rape her.
I pushed the thought out of my mind. It was best to.
We left and drove back to her place.
We were talking it up again about music as we got there. She was going to find some to put on when we went in. I knew it was a way of keeping me with her for as long as possible.
I was about to remind her that we had just over an hour, then I noticed something off about the door. We were on the steps leading to the porch.
The door was ajar. We wouldn’t have left it like that when we went out this morning. Frankie was supposed to be watching Jia today. He’d messaged earlier to let me know when he’d be by and it wasn’t supposed to be now. It was exactly when I was supposed to leave. One hour and fifteen minutes time.
So, who was inside?
I pulled Jia close and she stopped talking about her music.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Door’s open.”
“I locked it when we left.”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
Her eyes widened with alarm. “The only person who would come here when I’m not home is my Pa. Xander, you have to go. Please just go. If he sees you…” Her voice trailed off, choked.
“I’m not leaving you like this. We can’t just assume it’s him. It could be Armand.”
“That’s the same thing.”
I gave her a little smile. She’d said she was scared of her father, scared of what he could do. But I wasn’t choosing responsibility because of fear.
“I’m not afraid of your father, Jia. Remember what I said yesterday.”
“I know but it doesn’t make it any less scary.”
“Stay here.”
“No, I have to go in with you.”
“Jia. Stay here,” I told her with more insi
stence.
She looked antsy but she nodded.
I proceeded forward into the house, leaving her.
There was a crackling noise in the sitting room, sounded like someone reading the newspaper.
When I went in, gun in my hand and ready to fire, I actually froze up. I froze right the fuck up when my gaze landed on Balthazar sitting in the armchair sipping a cup of coffee.
“Well hell, I wondered if you people were going to be away all day,” he stated and set the cup down on the table.
I held the gun pointed at him, but my hands trembled.
Fear…
I’d only had the emotion a few times in my life. The majority of those times were associated with him.
On this occasion I had every reason to experience the emotion.
He was in Jia’s house.
Chapter 15
Jia
Choice…
Stay outside and wait for the sound of a fight, or stay outside and wait for the echo of a gunshot?
That was the choice Xander had left me with.
In all seriousness that was it and since I didn’t like either of those choices, I made my way into the house.
Who I expected to see was Pa. It would make sense for him to come and make his presence known after what had happened yesterday with the fight.
I expected some sort of comeback, or, on a minor level, a lecture because tomorrow was the big day. What more could he really do if the iron fist he’d ruled me with had already dealt a powerful blow.
The only other thing he could do was kill Xander and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
Who I saw though, sitting in my armchair, drinking from the cup Ma had brought for me for my sixteenth birthday, was a man I didn’t know.
Built with shoulder length black hair and a scar running down the side of his cheek, the man reminded me of a tough guy character from a video game or someone from The Matrix. Again that was my cousin’s influence. He watched too much TV and got lost in far too many video games. As kids he’d dragged me into it too.
Tease of Spades: Game of Love Series Page 11
