Dark Secrets (Dark #2)
Page 23
Because she realized right then that he had never paid her mother's bills because of what she had on him, but because he was, underneath it all, a good man. Men who worked for him had done awful things and they had paid with their lives for them, but he also felt it was his responsibility to make things as right as he could. So he kept an eye on Faith and he paid her mother's bills and he stepped up and tried to be a father figure to the fatherless girl she had been.
Daniel had taken the whole thing in stride, shrugging off her questions about how he could reconcile spending so much time with a known mafia big shot when he had dedicated most of his life to law enforcement.
"Been on a lot of jobs, babe," he said, shaking his head. "Enough of them to know that there are a lot of decent people doing dirty work in our world. I mean, for fuck's sake, Maze keeps the books for all the good bad guys in Navesink Bank and we just had dinner with her last week. Her husband is a gun runner. K forges identities for women when they need it. You beat the ever-loving shit out of wife beaters. I know Vin and his sons. They do dirty shit and they have blood on their hands, but they're good men too. I think working undercover jobs lets you see a lot more of the gray in life than just cops or detectives get to see. It's not a big deal."
And it never was. There was no tension at the dinner table. There was no objection when one of Nash's uncles wanted to take him out to a ballgame or on one of their boats. Just like there was no issue when K took him to the boxing gym and taught him to fight.
It all just somehow... worked.
"Let him get his gangster-ing out of his system," Daniel said as he closed the door, leaning back against it, and reaching for her hips. "Next week he'll want to be a skip chaser or a boxer or a..."
"Fetish club owner?" Faith supplied with a grin, leaning into his chest.
She knew after six weeks. That was all it took for her. Six weeks and she realized that the squeezing, warm, squishy feeling of her heart every single time she looked at him or heard his voice or felt this touch, that was love. It wasn't something she had ever gotten a chance to experience before and once she knew what it was, she knew there was nothing in the world that could make her give up on it. Not all the arguing they did over stupid, daily stuff. Not their battle with infertility. Not the half a dozen times she had needed to sit with him at a hospital because he got hurt on the job.
Nothing could take something from her that she hadn't even realized she had been searching for her whole life- that feeling of home, of comfort, of stability, of knowing there would be someone behind the door for you whenever you walked into the house.
She hadn't known that feeling since she was sixteen and it all got taken from her.
But Daniel gave it back to her in spades.
It had taken him months to say it and her declaration of loving him too hadn't exactly been romantic.
But that wasn't who she was.
That wasn't who they were.
They were two people who had lived tough lives, who had seen and done and lived with some dark things. They weren't the type of people for cheesy flowers and candy and over the top shows of affection. Their way was always more understated, it was gritty and real. It was sitting with each other on the bathroom floor, taking turns throwing up because of food poisoning. It was bandaging up bruised and bloody knuckles and having passionate sex as a form of pain relief.
It was just them- two people who fell in love in an impossible situation and, against all odds, made it work.
"Hey yo ma!" Nash said suddenly, coming out of the bathroom, his voice taking on a very distinct, very suspicious nineteen-thirties New York drawl. "We need to have a talk about that allowance money you owe me, capiche?"
Faith raised a brow, turning to Daniel and, trying to hold back a smile that was tugging at her lips, declared, "I am going to kill Anthony."
XX
DON'T FORGET
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ALSO BY JESSICA GADZIALA
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jessica Gadziala is a full-time writer, parrot enthusiast, and coffee drinker from New Jersey. She enjoys short rides to the book store, sad songs, and cold weather.
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