Maid For The Mafia by Alice T. Boone

Chapter Thirteen

Forty minutes was all it took to make the hour-long drive home. Forty minutes and my lungs still hadn’t reinflated, hands hadn’t stopped shaking, heart hadn’t beat. I checked the rearview mirror more than I looked out the god damn windshield, and for once, I wondered if this pathetic low was the way I had made so many feel before me. Selina had forced a sleeping pill down Jemma’s throat twenty minutes before, but when I didn’t have her sobs to focus on, I didn’t have much of anything at all. This quiet that I prayed for was now the one thing I wished would go away. All the silence did was bring twisted thoughts, snuff films playing in my head on repeat.

I wouldn’t keep my promise to him—- Travis hadn’t earned that.

While I had sworn he’d have 30 minutes, my men were at the house within 10.

Travis was dead, but relief didn’t come— not even with the familiar crunch of gravel or the warmth of home. Cutting the engine didn’t stop the water from rushing through my lungs, and when the staff finally came to carry Jemma up to her room, the words of appreciation they deserved wouldn’t come. They were doing yet another job that should have been mine, and ‘thank you’ never seemed to be there when I needed it.

Thank god the old man was in his grave. He’d hate to see me like this.

The numbness wouldn’t lighten when I stepped in the house, wouldn’t release its hold as I watched my daughter finally rest in her bed. The only thing that kept me within my body was the gentle squeeze of Selina’s hand. For two hours the woman remained at my side, camped outside Jemma’s room as we first awaited medical staff and then waited for the results. The world wouldn’t begin to colour in until the doctor had already left, and even then, I worried I wouldn’t see anything other than the hurt.

She was gone by the time my vision came back. I stood, frozen outside my daughter’s door in a pathetic attempt to ignore the world. My phone hadn’t stopped buzzing, but with a house in disarray, I wouldn’t so much as glance at it. I needed a stable base before I even thought of trying to fix the mess Travis created, but when those sounds filled my head, I didn’t know if that would be possible. When those sounds came from down the hall, I knew it wouldn’t be alright. When I finally convinced myself to open her door, when I watched Selina pack her bags, I didn’t think it would ever be alright again.

Her eyes wouldn’t dance up to me the way they usually did—- but maybe she was just afraid to see my ghost. Anger choked my throat as I watched her fold another drawer of clothes, as I watched her pack away her life as though she wasn’t stealing my last breath.

“You’re not leaving.” The strangled demand brought a prickle across her skin. Selina tucked some dark hair behind her ear, but when she went back to work, my knuckles whitened. “You’re not leaving, Selina.”

“Don’t yell at me.” The hiss snapped her head up, but as her eyes captured mine, she seemed to soften. Selina’s attention fell back to her belongings, and after a pause, she resumed her work. “I’m not leaving.”

“The bags are an interesting touch.”

“I mean I’m not leaving the city.” The clarification brought another wave of sickness. Selina straightened, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to leave Jemma, but this—-”

“I know that I fucked up.” The desperation burned as it crawled out my throat, sizzled my skin as it settled in the air. Finally, her eyes drifted over to me. “I know I overreacted, but if I can’t trust you—-”

“Can’t trust me?”

“You had a hundred opportunities to tell me the truth, Selina.”

“When?” Her doubt came with a hiss, but gentle tones had at least earned her patience. Selina’s eyes jumped to the ground, and when she finally sucked back a tense breath, she turned to face me again. “Terry, if I told you two months ago, you would have fired me on the spot.”

“That’s not true.”

“In what world is that—-”

“You know that’s not true.”

Nothing would ever be simple when it came to Selina—- not being with her, not losing her, not needing her. A collapsing chest knew exactly what it was I was supposed to spit out. She needed the confession I’d guarded, needed the words I’d kept buried for so long. Still, it wasn’t until Selina tried to jerk back to work that anything came out at all. Her eyes burned into me as my hand locked around her wrist, and for a moment, I wondered if there was any piece of me she didn’t know. I wondered if I really had to drag up the self-disgust that lived in my stomach or the jealousy in my bones.

“Stay.”

Her jaw loosened, her head tilting to the side. “Terry—-”

“She needs you here,” I snapped. When that didn’t seem to be enough, I choked out the only other truth I knew “I need you here.”

“Terry, if me being here damages your image or puts Jemma in danger, I can’t—-”

“I don’t give a shit.” Once more, her shoulders softened. “I don’t like who I am without you, Selina. If we can’t be the way we were, then I’ll accept that, but you can’t—-” When my throat closed, the words locked themselves in my chest. “I need you here, Selina. Next to me.”

She still wouldn’t look at me— but maybe that was a good thing. I wasn’t sure I was ready for her to see me like that, to see the way my entire being melted into her when she finally wrapped her arms around me. After my world had come crashing, the scent of her shampoo was heaven, a safety I didn’t know I deserved anymore. Selina was back in my arms, if only for a night, and I didn’t think I’d ever felt more at peace.

Resting my chin on the crown of her head, I pulled her a little tighter. “Don’t make me beg.”

The agony I felt when she pulled away was gone in a flash, her lips pressing into my own before my frozen heart could recognize the warmth. Her hands moved so slowly, slid against my cheek as though that was the only place they were meant to be. Though, maybe I should have expected that. My hands had never felt more at home as when they were tangled in her hair, as when they were grabbing at her ass. As my hand slipped to the back of her neck, taking the semblance of control that I needed, my tired heart whispered out the last truth I had left.

Nothing would ever feel as perfect as her grin against my lips, as the subtle hint of her laughter against my skin. All she ever did was make me hungrier, and when she relaxed into me again, I lifted her against me, her legs wrapped around my waist. Nestled between her thighs, I found the home I craved. Though, locked in her arms, I found the home I needed. If I had a thousand years, I doubted this thing between us would be perfect. I’d grown too twisted, too damaged to dream of something flawless, but to Selina, I wasn’t sure that would ever matter. Fixable, workable, real was better than perfect anyway, and I’d never wanted to work on something so much in my life.

I was done fucking things up with Jemma.

I was done fucking things up with Selina.

And when I finally asked her to be part of my family, when I gave her the ring burning a hole in my pocket, I’d make sure not to fuck that up either.

“I need you, Selina.”

“I know,” she murmured, her grin painted on my lips.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”