by K. Marie
“He wasn’t who you believed him to be, Camry, McKellan was dangerous; and had a history to prove it. I’ll tell you more when there’s time, but right now, we’ve got to get you out of here,” I said, moving to lift her from the chair.
She went willingly this time; all the fight having gone out of her by way of disillusionment.
It would take time for her to process what I’d just told her about McKellan…as well as what I’d just revealed about myself.
Epilogue
C A M R Y
Roman Aleksandr Vidov, made his debut two weeks early; weighing in at a healthy seven pounds, three ounces.
With his incredibly high-pitched wails, the little guy proved to everyone within range, there was absolutely nothing wrong with his lung capacity. Dr. Schiller said had he gone to term, he would’ve weighed in at over eight pounds, so he was destined to be a big boy.
When his father held him for the first time, I witnessed the most amazing thing as he’d gazed down at his son, there’d been tears in his eyes.
My big strong husband, crying over a baby.
I would’ve given anything to have been inside his head at that moment; wondered if he’d thought of his first son too.
I fell in love with my new son that day, and was still trying to reconcile my apparent unconditional love for his father.
I was fucking confused.
I couldn’t understand why when I looked at him, I didn’t feel the horror or revulsion that I probably should.
For, I feared my husband a monster.
He admitted to murdering someone—to murdering John. Yet, regardless of the reason; or maybe even because of it, I rationalized it had been somehow justified.
That seemed so damn wrong.
Had John’s offenses been that egregious, did he really deserve to die for them? I wondered if I would forever wrestle with that question.
It often felt as if there was a constant war waging inside of me, one of good versus evil, and I was anxious to know which might eventually win. Because in the end, that’s what it really came down to. Was my conscience something I could live with?
I’d become a co-conspirator, was probably just as responsible for John’s fate as Garland, was complicit in my silence.
Of course, I blamed myself.
I questioned whether I perhaps handled the entire thing with John wrong from the very beginning, starting with his first email. Did my response ultimately send Garland and John careening toward a collision course? I struggled with the guilt of it. But, I also struggled with what I learned about John.
Was he really the unchained stalker person he’s been alleged to be? How could that be true?
I spent nearly two years with him, had him around my daughter, wouldn’t I have known if something were amiss? My brain kept wanting to dismiss the entire thing as preposterous.
Because, then of course, I would have to call my own judgment into question. I remembered Detective Broggs less than flattering assessment that day at the station, when he called my judgment into question. I was offended then, but now, I wondered if perhaps he’d been right.
Who in the hell did I marry?
It seemed my Fairytale Prince, might actually be the Prince of Darkness. Marie once asked me what was wrong with Garland, said he couldn’t be as perfect as he seemed, that something had to be wrong with him. Well, now I know what that is.
Garland expressed no remorse over John, didn’t seem to lose one minutes sleep over it. He was absolutely resolute in his justification for his actions.
I knew my husband’s tick, knew that he valued his family’s safety above all else, and that he was both fierce and unbending about it. So, was I truly that surprised he would want to hurt someone he knew to be a direct threat? Someone, he believed to have come expressly to harm his wife?
I argued that I should be, but, I actually wasn’t. Why else would I have shredded those documents?
I believe I had already come to accept that my husband was a beautiful, damaged man; one who’d suffered untold trauma. I knew it weeks ago, that day at the hospital, after Jason died. I was only now learning the full extent of that damage.
I told Garland I didn’t want a perfect husband, that I accepted him complete with flaws, and that I would love him no matter his sins.
Those words were now being put to the test.
And God help me…I stand by them still.
G A R L A N D
In those moments when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, my wife looked at me as though I were a stranger.
Camry was now wary of me, probably even feared me a monster.
I would love nothing more than to reassure her; to allay her fears, to convince her I wasn’t the man she feared me to be. But, I was incapable of doing so.
I am a monster, and I had a long list of deeds to attest to that fact. However, I wasn’t her monster.
I love Camry more than what might be considered reasonable. Which, is why I’d chosen to be honest with her about McKellan. I can’t claim to have never lied to her, nor could I promise to never do it again in the future. But, I knew that if I weren’t honest with her in that moment, she would never again trust a word I said.
Camry somehow knew; or had at least been convinced of it. So, I took the risk in telling her—though I judged it a calculated risk. I wanted to shield her from that reality, to protect her from ever knowing the truth, but she’d made that impossible.
Camry was big hearted, and always wanted to believe the best of people; which only served to make her vulnerable. As was the case with Vega.
I knew she’d hired the private detective; there was nothing Camry did that could ever stay hidden from me.
I wasn’t upset about it; knew she’d struggled with guilt over McKellan, and felt she deserved to have some of that guilt assuaged. Only now, she also struggled with the knowledge that her husband had been responsible for it.
I didn’t much worry over it, I knew Camry would never betray me by confessing my sins to another. She was my weakness, but I was also hers. Though, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t somehow have to reassure her of my humanity.
The taking of a human life wasn’t something most people could so easily stomach, nor even comprehend. Unless of course, they’d had the misfortune to experience some of life’s most brutal cruelties. Killers weren’t always born—but were often made by circumstance. A man never knew what he might be capable of, until he’d had proper motivation.
But, I had a plan, I would restore my wife’s faith in her husband by simply telling her the truth. I didn’t suddenly become a saint; I just wasn’t above using manipulation for my own gain.
There were still things Camry could never know—things that weren’t safe for her to know, and I was doing everything in my power to keep it that way. That’s why I’d been biding my time, before breaking the news that I would be going to Russia.
She would likely go bat-shit, but that couldn’t be helped. It was something that needed to be done. I had been given a second chance, and I wouldn’t let anything on this earth jeopardize that. I wouldn’t allow my past to threaten that of my future.
But, just maybe.
“Perhaps daddy needs more of an adjustment period first, what do you think?” I asked my son, who just stared back at me silently.
I brought him out onto the balcony in hopes of rocking him back to sleep, and also, of not having to wake his mother.
I’ll admit it, I also just wanted to hold him.
I gazed down at him, still not believing he’s actually mine. My son, my blood. I’ve never been accused of being an emotional man; quite the opposite in fact. But, I admit to having cried like a pussy the day he was born. Even Viktor hadn’t had the heart to make fun of me.
I never thought I would have another child of my own, didn’t think myself deserving of one. But, here he is, Roman, staring back at me with trusting eyes. I pressed a kiss to his soft skin, a silent promise that I would never let him down. He on
ly yawned in response, apparently bored with my sentimentality.
“I love you too, son,” I murmured, grinning down at his adorable face. He was so damn tiny, but somehow managed to turn me into a huge wuss.
Gently rocking him, I inhaled his baby-sweet scent, and wondered not for the first time, what in the hell Camry puts on him. It’s a scent I smelled even when I was away. Hopefully, successful in my attempt at rocking him back to sleep, I gazed out into the darkness blanketing the ocean, contemplating my necessary departure.
Also, wondering if my hands would still be fit to hold my son when I returned.
THE END
Wreckless Intentions
~ COMING JUNE 2018 ~
G A R L A N D
Downing my glass of scotch, I immediately reached for the bottle to pour another. I rarely drink, but tonight is an occasion for it. I needed something strong to fortify my temper.
Camry hadn’t said a word to me since getting into the car earlier, which tells me she’s pissed. She’d overheard my words with Vlad.
“I understand completely, brother, you now feel absolved of your guilt since you’ve managed to replace both my sister and my nephew. But, let’s not forget, I know where some of the bodies are buried. I know things about you, Reaper, that could be worth a lot of money if put into the right hands.”
“You dare to fucking threaten me? Your threats are laughable. I’m the only thing right now standing between you and certain death, you moron. I’ve given you my terms, Vlad, I want your ass back in Russia, now. This is the last time we’ll have this conversation, if you want my protection, that’s the only way you’ll be getting it. So, I suggest you make the smart choice for once in your miserable fucking life. Because, from here on out, I don’t want you contacting me. I don’t wish to accidentally run into you at functions you know damn well I’ll be attending. And, if I ever hear that you’ve magically run into my wife again—or have uttered another word to her, I will forget that we were once family. Are we clear on that?”
I can’t believe the ass-wipe actually threatened me. But, I didn’t miss the flash of uncertainty in his eyes, before it was quickly replaced with a defiant snarl. Vlad knew that he’d crossed the line, he was no doubt desperate. Because, as afraid as he must be of the people he’s currently indebted to, he knows with absolute certainty, I’m just as dangerous if pushed.
Taking another swallow of scotch, I worked damn hard to squelch my annoyance. Vlad’s unquestionably an imbecile, but right now, he’s also dangerous. I already had Viktor put a man on him, he wouldn’t be disappearing this time. I’m giving him forty-eight hours to vacate before going after him.
In the meantime, I’ve got a pissed wife. I wondered just how much of that conversation Camry had heard.
Speaking of my pissed wife…I watched as she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, placing what must be milk inside before closing it back.
Did she actually intend to ignore me for the rest of the night?
If so, I’m definitely in the dog house. The woman could be downright stubborn when she wanted.
I decided to test the waters.
“Do you intend to give me the silent treatment indefinitely?” I asked.
“Not at all, I’m eager to hear why you’ve lied to me, I’m all ears,” she said, walking over to take a seat next to me on the sofa. “I’m especially eager to hear why Vlad referred to you as Reaper.”
Shit.
About the Author
An avid reader, K. Marie fell in love with books when a good friend bequeathed her with her very first Harlequin Romance novel. An admitted sucker for happily-ever-after, she loves nothing more than a gripping tale rife with hunky heroes, feisty heroines, and lots of drama. Reading has always been her escape, but writing is her passion. So, it was only natural that she’d one day create her own steamy tale of sex, lies, love, and redemption.
K. Marie is a self-professed feminist, who believes in indulging and catering to the female fantasy in an unabashed, and unapologetic fashion.
She currently lives in Michigan with her heroic husband and three incorrigible children. When not writing, she can be found ranting and raving at cable news, deeply engrossed in politics; doing DIY projects, or planning her next vacation.
Wreckless Engagement is her debut novel.
Find K. Marie
kmarie-author.com
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