Valerie
My eyelids fluttered open, and a gasp rasped my throat as consciousness tugged me violently from my drunken sleep. Waiting for my eyes to adjust, I stretched my legs and arms and arched my back, and a groan escaped me when my joints popped. Blinking hard, my gaze found Carlyle seated in a chair, his own focused firmly on the folder in his hands, and I sluggishly rolled onto my side.
“I didn’t drink enough last night, obviously.” There was no pounding against my forehead, no ache behind my eyes, and I gathered up the pillow as Carlyle glanced at me. Slapping the folder shut, he crossed his knees and ran his hand over his head, and the low light in the room made his eyes seem brighter.
“I had you hooked up to an IV so you wouldn’t get a hangover. You definitely drank enough last night— enough to give a normal person alcohol poisoning. If you didn’t have such a high tolerance, you’d be suffering something bad right now.” My lips stretched in a small smile, and Carlyle propped his elbow on the armrest to hold his cheek on his half-curled first. “While you were asleep, we found out who sent the bomb. They’re a wannabe gang called Baron Ninety-Nine. Do you know anything about them?”
“Not really. I know they’re violent.” My answer earned me a soft hum, and I licked my dry lips before parting them again. “Who are you really, Carlyle? When you showed up at my apartment, why did you ask about the fighting?”
“The truth is, I felt guilty about not telling you.” He took a short breath in preparation, and I held my own in anticipation, though I had a feeling nothing he said would be a shock. “I run the largest criminal organization in the world. Most of my companies are shells or fronts, and I didn’t want you to believe I was perfect. No one is perfect.”
“Okay.” Stretching out my hand, I waited for him to take it as surprise rose his brows, and a huge surge of relief sloshed in my chest. Carlyle dragged his fingertips along my palm, and I sniffed as the confused silence became tinged with discomfort. “At least you’re honest.”
“I completely understand if you want no part of it, Valerie.” I rolled onto my back to stare at the ceiling, and Carlyle drew circles on my palm and up my wrist. “It’s not something you should take lightly. I’ve had several attempts on my life, and you don’t have to live with that fear looming over your shoulder.”
“Have you personally killed someone?” Glancing over as he nodded quietly, my mind went a little blank before I opened my mouth. “Are you going to kill my mom?”
“If you want me to, yes. It’s something you should discuss with your sister. Like I said, I’ll hold onto her until you two make a decision. I’ve got people looking for her right now.” His expression tightened out of the corner of my eye, and I tilted my head listlessly. “There are some things we need to talk about. I’m not ashamed, but I did look into you and Natasha, Valerie, and what I found was not . . . easy . . . to read.”
“Yeah.” Training my gaze on a particularly large popcorn on the ceiling, I inhaled deeply, but it did nothing to fill the hollow gape in my chest. “My mom . . . when Natasha and I applied to be emancipated, we got the same judge who presided over our family matters. He asked us what really happened. It’s not uncommon to lie— after all, the known misery is better than the unknown. We told him, and he granted us emancipation before we even finished the sentence.”
“Do you feel you should continue therapy?” He was so straightforward, and I shook my head absently. “Why not?”
“It’s not something you get over, but I guess I’m as over it as I’ll ever be. I had a really long, really intense slut phase in college. It only stopped because one guy— a good guy, really sweet— had an AIDS scare and told me when he found out. I’m negative. Even when I wasn’t having sex and after moving here, I got tested. When we were ‘borrowed,’ I had to be treated for gonorrhea and chlamydia. I got referred to this really great survivor therapist. It was nice because she didn’t treat Natasha, just me.”
“I take it she helped you compartmentalize?” Shaking my head again, I sat up to run my hand through my hair, and the strands peeled from my neck and shoulders from dried sweat. Everything was so fuzzy from before I moved here, and Carlyle held my hand firmly as I struggled to organize my hazy thoughts.
“Um . . . not really, no. She basically told me that people are cruel, and they do cruel things for just the sake of it. Over the years, she helped me realize that if I let it hang over me, those people would win, and I wasn’t gonna let that happen. I never fooled myself into thinking I’d get revenge, so I settled on defeat. They’d never know it, but I’d beat them. Eventually. Besides, it wasn’t what happened tomethat was so horrible.” Realization flickered in his eyes, and he rubbed my palm with his thumb. My story came to an end, and there were no flashbacks. There was nothing. No memories came floating up from the abyssal crevices of my mind, and nothing sparked in my chest.
Which, arguably, was worse, I guess.
“I never settle.” Goosebumps swept up my arm at his declaration, and I rested my cheek on my knee to watch him cock his head and frown. “Do you have any idea at all why you were targeted specifically, Valerie?”
“Your guess is probably better than mine.” The conversation came to a screeching halt when someone knocked gently on the door, and Carlyle stood up with a low grunt. Pulling the sheet to my chin, I rubbed my eyes and face as a deeper kind of exhaustion tugged at my very soul.
“Boss, Pedro is here . . . and he’s pissed.” Scooting to the foot of the bed, I threw my legs over the side, and Carlyle glanced back at me from under furrowed brows. My toes flexed against the carpet, and I pushed myself up onto unsteady legs with a slight nod. Turning back to the unfamiliar woman, he mumbled something too low for me to hear before shutting the door and turning to me fully.
“Your clothes are in those boxes.” Pointing at a pile of plain packing boxes, Carlyle walked over to me to hold both my hands by my sides. “Take a shower. Eat. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“I’m coming with you.” His lips thinned, but Carlyle didn’t object, and he didn’t agree, either, but who cared about that? “Why is he mad?”
“I blew up a bunch of his drugs about . . . four hours ago.” Glancing at his watch, he shrugged absently, and a tickle of something caressed my lungs. “It’ll be fine. He’s an amateur.”
I couldn’t really react to that, and I stepped away from Carlyle to poke through the boxes in the corner of the room. Truthfully, I didn’t care how I looked for once. I grabbed the first pair of jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering with a bra other underwear. My sluggish movements matched my mind, and I glanced at him over my shoulder.
“Thanks for not judging me.” About what? The STDs? The sob story? The insane amount of drinking I did last night, most of which I don’t remember? Carlyle smiled reassuringly, but it came off as menacing because of the tension in him so visible on his face. When I went to take off my pajamas, my thumbs hooked on nothing, and I noticed for the first time that I was naked. Frowning under furrowed brows, I stuffed my feet into my pants and hiked them up, but my hands shook.
Wandering over to me, Carlyle gently pulled up the zipper and fastened the button, and I let him wrest the shirt from me. The plain, black t-shirt was soft as he pulled it over my head, and he gathered up my hair as I folded my arms through the holes. Cupping my cheeks in his dry, warm hands— no longer scorching hot— he ducked his head to capture my lips.
His kiss was magical, soft and ginger, but rough from being chapped and constantly downturned. Slinging my arms around Carlyle’s neck, I pressed against him just to be closer, and he caressed my mouth with a slow-burning passion. There was so much anger in his gentleness, and I threaded my fingers through his hair to deepen our kiss.
There was so much anger, but there was also happiness and hope . . . and a barrage of other emotions that rushed down my throat and filled up the gaping hole in my chest. Carlyle’s kisses didn’t lie, didn’t fudge the truth, didn’t avoid the question.
That’s why he was so bad at it before.He never let anyone feel what lays below that stony exterior. Not a single soul knew exceptme.
“I never settle, Valerie, and this . . . I’m going to crush anyone that gets between us.” Squeezing my face very gently to punctuate his point, Carlyle’s eyes blazed full on with all the hate and rage he’d been hiding from me, and Ismiled. Tears sprung to my eyes, and my heart became so full it barely beat properly. Even as his blurred features twisted in malice, I warmed, and I rested my cheek on his chest to feel the furious ripple of his muscles.
