Our future.
After he told me I was pregnant, his behaviour and how he’d been acting around me all slipped into place. It made sense, and from that point, I could visibly see his struggle with the changes that would happen not just to me, but to him as well. And us. Because there is still an us. My fear of there not being an us vanished on that rooftop. It might be hard being a part of him—too fucking hard some days—but I love Benjamin Vico, and I know he loves me because he promised me things would change, and they have.
Slowly.
I moved out not long after finding out I was pregnant. It was my refuge in some ways; expecting a baby on top of dealing with my brothers was a lot to handle. I’m still processing it all now, especially how I feel after letting go of the festering revenge that has dictated my life for so many years.
Even though it was my choice to move out, it hasn’t stopped me feeling isolated from Benjamin. I’ve been at his side, ready for anything he needed for over two years. And now I’ve gone from that to only seeing him for a handful of nights a week. He won’t ever leave the city. I know that. It’s his city, and I need to learn to adapt and trust him, not feel pushed to the side or hidden away. That's how it feels sometimes, though, like I'm alone out here without him.
We fight more than ever. Previously, I’d bow and bend to his every whim because that was my job. That was my role. But that dynamic between us changed the moment I recovered from my gunshot. He might have wanted obedience and fucking in the beginning, might even still get it to some degree, but that’s not the extent of our relationship now.
Never will be again.
Watching as our baby has grown, Benjamin has slowly let me in. He's granted me access to the part of his soul he always kept locked away. It's not a nice place. Sometimes he opens up. A few words about how he grew up, his father, the monopoly that was Vico at the start of it all. Murderous doesn't even seem to cut it as the right word. And he seems so annoyed by it for some reason, as if it's something we should be worried about for the child inside of me. The darkness in him doesn’t frighten me, neither does his past. It’s a part of who he is, just like my dark past is a part of who I am. It is another confirmation that moving out here is the right decision for our baby, though, even if I struggle to fill my days with meaningful tasks to keep my mind busy. We've both got space here, some air to breathe as we try for something different than he is in the city. It's hard, but we're finding new versions of each other slowly. A touch from him here, a half whisper of something sweet there. Well, not sweet because Benjamin after all, but there is love now. Real love. Love built on trust and forgiveness, hurt and pain. Different to anyone else's form of the word, I'm sure, but then so are we.
A knock at the door rouses my attention back to the here and now, and I walk through the lounge to get our guests.
“Hey, look at you. You’ve gotten so big,” Emily gushes as I swing it wide for her.
“Gee thanks, Emily.” My eyes roll, fairly sure I know I look a lot like an alien in my new body.
“No, it’s good. I'm sorry… Oh my God, that was so rude. It was meant as a good comment. You look great,” she says, stumbling over her words and clearly mortified that I might have taken offence.
“It’s fine,” I chuckle, waving my hand. “I’m the size of the house, and I still have a few weeks to go.”
She, Gabby and Nathan all enter the house and head out towards the deck where Benjamin is drinking, but Quinn lingers near. His eyes take in my growing bump, a frown on his features.
“You all good?” he asks, checking in with me as if he's got some right to understand how I feel. I suppose he has in some ways. Big brother and all that. I'm still not sure how I feel about it all, though.
“Everything is fine, Quinn.”
He nods and follows the others through to the back, his arm outstretched as if to guide me. It's strange, but he seems just as protective as Benjamin as I waddle through and take a moment to appreciate the view.
A gentle breeze cools the warm air, sweeping the smell of barbeque towards me and diluting the usual salty tang in the air.
I still struggle to think of any of the Canes as family. It's only been a few months in reality, and although Nathan seemed to accept me, it wasn’t until we had the official test results back that Quinn truly believed what I'd said. I don't blame him for that. Not really. He's just protecting his family, something he seems to think I am now. For now, I suppose they are a part of my world and perhaps one day I’ll be more comfortable with referring to them with the F word. At the moment, having Benjamin and the bump is more than enough for me.
They're the only things I need.
“Would anyone like a drink?” I step out towards them all.
“You should not be sorting drinks. Sit and put your feet up.” Emily busies me to the nearest soft furnishing while she heads to the kitchen. Quinn hovers again, flanking me in a way that reminds me of Torino. He’s been put on barbequing duty today, with Benjamin overseeing. Not that I can ever remember Benjamin barbequing anything, but apparently, he can. And by the smell that's wafting around, I guess he does it quite well, another thing I'm learning about him.
He turns to find me in the crowd, and I smile at the apron wrapped around his waist, but a scowl covers his face as his eyes look behind me.
“Quinn, you need to back the hell off,” he shouts, laughing lightly and pressing past Nathan to get to me. “She doesn’t need your protection in our home.”
“She’s my sister,” Quinn snaps, rounding in front of me. His whole body stiffens, a scowl leveled directly at Benjamin. “Until you put a fucking ring on that finger, I’m more family than you are.”
His retort stifles the conversation, and I hold my breath, waiting for an explosion and flicking my eyes between the pair of them. They've always butted heads, too similar in some ways, but this, over me? I can't help but smile and giggle a little. It warms my heart to both of them, making me push my bulk into the middle of their standoff.
Benjamin stares at me, eyes softening now he's looking at me rather than someone he still considers a threat of sorts. “She doesn’t need a fucking ring to know who she belongs to, Quinn.” No, I don't. My hand reaches for his face, fingers drawing down his jawline. I doubt I'll ever need a ring from him to know where my heart is. Or his.
He keeps gazing at me, dismissing Quinn until it feels like it's just us two again. That's the way I like it best. Him and this view, the ocean the only sound to hinder our new quiet moments. My stomach quivers, reminding me of the fact that there will never be just two of us again, and I grab his hand to place it over the feeling.
“Hey, sorry about Quinn,” Nathan says, breaking our gazes at each other. “He’s protective of family.”
“It’s fine, Nathan. It doesn't…”
“Please, stop. It’s Nate, okay? Enough formality. Family.”
“Fine,” I agree. Not that I entirely do, but we're all here. I invited them after all. Or, I think Emily invited herself, and I agreed.
“You staying in town long?” Benjamin asks Nate, as he raises his glass to his lips. Even at home with guests, he’s still in a dress shirt, although he’s rolled up the sleeves to reveal the shadows and sins of his tattoos.
I’ve not asked about them yet. I've been on the edge of that particular cliff, ready to jump off and learn what might have driven him to commit the darkness to his skin, but I also want him to freely give that information to me. It's all so black, the occasional shadows of grey twining with yet more dark ink. Ghostly. As if there's nothing but death indelibly etched into his skin. The small snippets I've already gleaned are hideous enough to contend with.
“A few days. Maybe more,” Nate replies, “We’ll be back as soon as little Miss Winters arrives. I’m going to enjoy seeing how you’ll cope with a daughter. Or will her name be Vico?”
Benjamin’s stare screams at Nate to back off.
Ever since we found out we were having a girl, he’s been mo
re wound up than ever. Part of me is relieved. Having a son, I can’t help foresee a younger version of Benjamin taking his father’s place in his world. That’s not what I want for our child. At least not out of the simple reason that it’s his duty. And then there's the name thing. Another thing we're bickering about. Winters keeps her safe, away from the world. Vico wouldn’t allow her that.
Emily arrives from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and passes them to Nate and Gabby before offering one to me.
“Thank you,” I say, nodding at her.
I take a tall glass of lemonade from her and quench my thirst. Her warm smile is filled with generosity and love. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I would never have imagined that Emily could have a fierce side. It makes me wonder if it’s a consequence of her time with Quinn, or if it was always part of her personality. Time will tell, I guess.
“Here. A gift,” Gabby says from behind me. She's resting on the arm of the chair, a floral dress making her seem so much softer than the woman I thought I knew. She pulls a small box from her bag and hands it over, a genuine smile lighting up her face. It might be the first time I’ve seen her without a shadow plaguing her features.
“We said no gifts, Gabby.”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t resist. Besides, no one will be able to top this. Go on. Open it.”
I pull the shiny paper off the box and fold the corners back. Inside, a small silver bracelet with a diamond dangling from a tiny hoop lies on pink tissue paper. It’s so delicate, and utterly perfect. My eyes fly to hers, shocked. She was the last person I’d have expected a gift from given our bickering. The sting of tears prickles my cheeks, and as if she knows I’m thinking about her, the bump decides to rearrange herself, squishing up against my ribcage.
“Gabby, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. Diamonds are a treat,” she says, standing. “And my little niece will certainly enjoy them if I have anything to say about it.”
She walks over to the edge of the deck to admire the view, and Nate chuckles as he goes to her. It all leaves me a little speechless.
“I have a feeling that little girl of yours is going to be thoroughly spoilt,” Emily adds. “Gabby, is that one of yours?”
“Might be. We don't talk about that, though, do we, Nate?” He frowns and swats her ass, a smile on his face. “It’s not the biggest of diamonds, but hopefully it will inspire her love for the finer things in life. She'll certainly need to understand niceties with these three brutes around her. ”
We all giggle, and for the first time, I feel like these women could become friends. Real friends.
* * *
The afternoon was everything I could have hoped for. Everyone was happy and excited about the baby until the moment they left, but Benjamin seemed a little subdued, like he had something on his mind and couldn’t shake it. The times when he doesn’t open up to me now, fill me with a fear that I'm not prepared for. Although I know he’ll ensure that neither me or the bump will ever want for anything, him missing from our lives would be a gap I don’t know I’d ever be able to fill.
“Hey,” I sigh, watching him walk over. I'm tired after entertaining and chatting all afternoon, and whatever his mood has been isn't something I really need.
I cast my eyes over the low light, watching the sun slowly setting over the waves out there. He sits down next to me on the comfy sofa that gives me the best view, elbows on his knees. “You happy out here?” he asks.
“Sure. It’s my favourite spot.”
Now I'm nearly nine months pregnant, I’ve had to give up my regular runs. Torino still shadows me most of the time, but his presence is less intense than in the city. He's my security when Benjamin's not around, acting the part of gardener come handyman, and I suppose I've softened to him as my bump has grown. It's easier because I know it's Benjamin's concern for us. Maybe the mother in me is mellowing my fiery side.
“Not what I meant, Hope. Are you happy here? This house? Us?” He doesn’t look at me but looks out at the view as I do.
“I love this house. You know this. And I love you. Am I content with everything in our lives? No. It’s only been a few months, and I’ve gone from being with you to waiting for you.” The thought makes me look at him, searching his profile for what he's trying to ask. “Adjusting to that has been hard. Plus, I’m growing another person. It’s not the most relaxing of times.”
“You love me. Your life will never be relaxing again. Hell, you’re going to raise my daughter.”
“We, Benjamin. We will raise our daughter.” He looks back at me, a slow grin spreading.
“No one is ever going to touch our girl. If they manage to get through Torino, they’ll have me and Quinn to deal with.”
The image makes me smile. This girl is going to have a hell of a hard time, and I can’t even imagine the idea of her ever dating. Not with New York and Chicago's mob bosses as her father and uncle. “You have to give her a chance to grow, Benjamin, or you’ll smother her. Promise me.”
“Not going to fucking happen, Hope.”
My eyes roll, and I look back at the ocean, saving that argument for another day.
“What's the odd mood been about all afternoon?” I ask, reaching for his jaw. “You haven't seemed very happy.”
He surprises me by lifting my feet up into his lap, his fingers pulling my sandals off so he can rub my feet. I'm so stunned by the move I just stare, mouth open with words I can't find.
“Happiness is a hard concept for me,” he mutters, looking out to the waves. “I love you. I love our girl. You make me happy. That what you needed to hear?” He shakes his head, a small chuckle coming. “Always with the words.”
“I can’t always trust your actions. You can be volatile and…” His eyes flare to life as he turns back to me, anger at my forthright tone because I'm making him talk to me. “See? There, Benjamin. You're like those damn beads on your wrist, constantly turning and churning. One wrong turn and I'm on edge, waiting for an explosion. I don't want that. Be happy for yourself. Me.” My hand drops onto our daughter inside me. “Us. We all need that.”
“I won’t stop being who I am. Not even for you.”
“I’m not asking you to. I fell in love with everything about you. Just be happy here. Be you here and leave the city where it stands.” I sigh and put his hand on my stomach, my own covering his. “This is home. Relax.”
He's silent for a while but his fingers remain over the very thing that's brought us truly together. I wish I could say that we'd still be an us without her, but I'm no fool. This baby growing is our second chance, a way of finding each other because of a common goal. What might have happened if not for her, I’m not prepared to give any more thought to. And I'm glad of that because without her, I wouldn't have seen who he really is under the harsh exterior. She's opening up the part of him I only glimpsed, those stolen moments when he couldn’t not let me see. I guess time will show how real that is.
He steps back, taking his hand away and bringing it to his top button. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, he pops the first of the buttons on his shirt.
“This is me.” He continues removing the buttons and giving me sight of his glorious chest. “All of me.” The material slides over his skin, revealing his tattoos for me to stare at. He turns around, letting me see his back. The movement of his muscles brings the tattoos to life, almost causing them to move with him. “This is where it started. The symbol I chose to always bear.”
He runs his hand over his chest, across his shoulder and down his left arm, before facing me again. “When my mother took me from here, everything changed. I changed. The boy I’d been was dead from then on. He had to be. This skull represents the death of me as a boy, and that death has guided my life going forward. And now I am what I am because of it, Hope. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
He traces the flames that lick and dance up his sleeve and engulf the large black skull that dominates his pec. It’s the most intimida
ting of the tattoos he has on his skin. The skull looks haunted, in pain. Just like him.
“This was the first one. The start. I mourned for the boy I could have been and struggled with the rage I felt. It’s all that drove me. My mother told me I couldn’t be that boy anymore, so I wasn’t. I became something else. Someone more.” He stalls, finger tracing his skin. “But I never forgot, Hope. It’s etched into my skin as a reminder. Each kill, each death, I carry with me. This skin is a walking fucking picture-book of how my life changed that day.”
As I listen to the words, I study the myriad of skulls, smoke patterns and black lines, a candle the single source of the flames and smoke that cover over half his body. The candle already burned and dead, the flame snubbed out. Is that a metaphor for the life he lost? I can’t help but look over each and every picture, every shadow and feature, looking for the hidden meaning behind them.
“You wanna swim?”
What?
I turn my eyes to his and see a glimpse of a shadow behind his eyes. Before I can process further, he continues to remove his clothes. All of them. He closes the distance between us, reaching for me, and pulls me to standing.
“You want to go swimming?” After what he just revealed, I’m a little stunned.
“Yeah. With you.”
“It'll be freezing.”
“You going soft on me?” His fingers start pushing the dress off my shoulders, bra strap going with it until the lot tumbles to the floor beneath me. “That's not my girl. Where’s my wild cat?” She's about ready to drop a baby, that's where she is.
I smile, though, as my feet move to close the distance between us, my hand resting in his as he starts backing himself over the deck and to the steps that lead to my slice of beach heaven.
“I can't believe I'm doing this. Look at me for God's sake.”
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