I never thought that I’d trust again, love again, but I did. I do. I miss him desperately with every fiber of my soul. I thought that I was my own rock, my own foundation and that I didn’t need anyone or anything. Not being with him, not having him here, makes all of this worthless. I wish that I had stayed even if there was a chance I would die. What I’m doing now is not living. I’m barely existing as I have to continue to hide, wondering if the Reaper will return. It feels like the Reaper’s watching and waiting. He’s taunting me rather than claiming my soul. There’s no greater pain than to live as one is meant to when the Reaper dangles your life between the line of existence and death. I feel like I’m already dead. I’m dead inside at having to live alone. Life isn’t meant to be lived in solitude. It’s meant to be shared with others.
My hand continues to aimlessly dip the tea bag in and out of the hot water of the mug resting on the table in front of me as my thoughts ramble on until the waiter brings out my food. I keep ordering food at each meal, but I have trouble eating, tasting, or swallowing. I know my body is hungry, but it’s like it can’t eat, or perhaps doesn’t want to, hoping the Reaper will finally claim what’s his. There were many nights these past three months that I had my gun shoved into my mouth while I cried myself to sleep. Each night was a new bed, each day was another set of miles to lengthen the distance form my past. Why won’t the Reaper just let me pull the trigger? I’m tired of his game and one would think he would be too.
Suddenly, a dog is whimpering as it presses itself against me, placing it’s paws on my lap as if it’s trying to sit on me. The faint sound of another one at my feet catches my attention as my eyes focus on the collar of the dog who is now licking my face. No! No! I’m dreaming. Wake up, Laurie. Wake the fuck up! Don’t let the Reaper suck you in again to one of his wicked nightmares.
“Cain,” a foggy voice calls as the beast’s body is removed from mine.
Two seconds later, the other dog is pressed against me, licking me as it tries to jump on me.
Water fills my eyes as I realize that this isn't another dream of me wishing for my past. It’s here. “Mable?” I cry, snatching her by the face. “Mable,” I call out. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Reality sets in and I’m suddenly pushing her off of me as I reach for the knife in my boot.
“Hey,” a voice greets, this time a little less foggy.
My eyes find his feet where the dogs are now sitting, anxious to greet me again. Slowly, my gaze travels up the length of his body as my hand grips tighter around the knife and my heart stomps in my chest. “Aiden,” I eek out, shocked to see his weary face.
“Hey, Pix,” he greets tentatively, giving me space. “Easy you two,” he directs to the dogs.
“Wh…how?” I breathe as my brain tries to figure out what’s going on. My eyes dart around, searching for any signs that this is a cruel dream that I need to wake from.
“I’m here, Pix,” he states, taking a slow step toward me.
“You are?” I ask, not believing him.
“Yes,” he confirms with his cocky grin that I love.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “How did you find me? Is everyone….”
“Everyone is fine,” he confirms. “Can I join you?”
“What?”
“Can I join you?” he repeats, gesturing to the empty chair.
“I…I don’t know,” I sigh, still feeling confused by everything before me.
“Everyone is fine…they send their love,” Aiden assures, taking another slow step closer.
I nod, not knowing what to say.
“I can explain everything, Pix,” Aiden states. “I can even tell you how I found you.”
“I…I don’t know,” I stammer.
“Pix,” he calls softly.
“Hmm,” I mumble.
“If you don’t want me here, just say it,” he announces.
“What?” I gasp.
“I’ll understand,” he says. “It’ll fucking hurt like hell, but I’ll understand. I…I just needed to see you, whether or not you wanted to see me again.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“I’m hoping that I didn’t fly all the way around the world for the past two and half months in search for the woman I love just to be rejected,” he presents. “But, I’ll go if you want me to.”
My eyes meet his again.
“I’m hoping…even if it sounds sadistic…that she might love me too,” Aiden reveals.
I’m not sure what happens next until I feel Aiden’s warm body pulling mine closer.
“Pix?” Aiden questions nervously.
A small smile creeps across my face. “Don’t…” I request. “Don’t go. Stay.”
“Really?” Aiden asks. He sighs, taking my face in his hands.
“Really,” I affirm.
I love you,” he professes. “And…you can’t get rid of me.”
“Yeah,” I say with a giggle.
Aiden holds me closer, kissing me deeply as if it’s the first time and last. “I’ve missed you, Pix,” he announces before taking my mouth again.
“Excusez-moi,” a voice calls.
Aiden and I turn in its direction.
“Voulez-vous un menu,” the waiter asks.
“Non,” Aiden confirms. “Je voudrais un thé s'il vous plaît.”
“Oui monsieur,” the waiter returns.
“Since when do you speak French?” I inquire.
“There are many things you have to learn about me, Pix,” Aiden returns with a smile. “But first, I owe you some answers. Actually, we owe each other answers.”
“Sounds good,” I agree as he offers to pull out my chair for me to sit.
The dogs stand diligently at my sides, resting their heads on my lap as Aiden gets settled in his seat. I happily pet them, excited to have them back until Aiden reaches across the table for my hands.
“Aiden,” I call nervously.
“What is it, Pix?” he questions with concern. “Are you okay?” His thumbs gently rub over my knuckles
“What? Yes, I’m fine,” I assure. “I…a thought just popped into my head.”
“What’s that, baby?” he checks.
“Are we good…like safe?” I inquire. “Or, do we need to…you know….”
“We’re safe…especially as long as we’re together,” he answers.
A genuine smiles grows on my face — the first in a long time. “Aiden.”
“Yeah, Pix?”
“I…I’m glad you found me,” I share.
“I’ll always find you,” Aiden assures.
The Killmores
(Killmore #2)
coming 2017
Laurie’s and Aiden’s story isn’t finished yet! There’s one more book coming for you to read.
Aiden, Cain, and Mable were able to finally find Laurie after three months of searching. Who else might be looking for them: Quintin, Jack — perhaps Antonio? What’s really going on and who is working for whom?
Killmore Page 43
