I can't believe how arrogant this guy is, seriously. My jaw hangs open as I stare at him and attempt to digest my incredulity over this developing situation. Of course it was obvious to him, the dick. I want to roll my eyes so hard right now.
“You'll come round. Don't worry, I've got it all in hand,” he says yet again making me feel like a spoiled child.
“Dima, what if I don't want to get married?”
He shrugs. “Then I will tie you up and Lev will hold you down as we do it. I can get an officiator to come here. Plus, Lev can forge a signature, not that difficult.”
Is he fucking serious? I study his stern face. The crazy fuckerisserious. I keep forgetting the psycho he really is, but then remember, I killed someone last night … what does that make me? Not sure I’m that much saner than he is.
I groan and hold my head in my hands. “You're unbelievable, D.”
He laughs. “Thank you, baby. Don't forget it.” He kisses my head and then gets out of bed. “Coffee?” he asks like we didn't just have this conversation about marriage.
“Yeah, please.”
While I sit here stunned, off he saunters, his sexy pert ass on show. Well fuck, guess I'm getting married.
I zip up my leather jacket and am about to leave the house.
“Where do you think you’re going, beautiful?”
I turn to see Dima frowning at me. So damn paranoid.
“Out,” I say, walking toward the door.
He grabs my arm. “That’s not an answer, baby.”
I sigh. “I’m going out for a ride, there is something I want to do. Plus, I need some time on my own. I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?”
His face twists with confusion, mixed with what I suspect is a hint of fear. I put my arms around his neck. Guess he needs reassurance.
“I'm not leaving you. I need some time to myself. You have to allow me space when I need it, Dima, I don't want to feel like I’m a prisoner here. I proved last night that I’m committed.”
His shoulders slump and he gives me a hard kiss. “Fine, just be careful.”
I smile. These little moments of almost sweetness makes me feel as sappy as fuck. He’s still a dick though.
I leave through the door and head for my bike, making my way to the cemetery.
As I arrive at the cemetery, I am immediately hit with guilt. I haven’t been here in so long. I know my parents aren’t in this world anymore, but when I see their grave, I can't help but wonder what they would think of what I have done with my life. Kneeling on the grass in front of their shared headstone, my heart aches. The need to talk to them one last time, to find out if I make them proud is overwhelming.
They were amazing. I haven't really spoken about them to anyone, including Dima. Katie is the only one who knew what they meant to me. Pretending they never existed makes the pain easier to deal with. They only ever wanted me happy, but I'm not sure that would include being with a man who should have his crazy ass locked up.
I find myself zoning out for a while, talking to my parents in my head, like there is any chance of them hearing me. I don't know. Maybe they can. I feel a prickle on my neck and take a deep sigh “What are you doing here, Dima? Stalking me now?” I don't bother turning to look at him.
He sits beside me. “You know I would follow you anywhere, baby, but I needed to see if you were okay.”
I slowly nod but remain silent.
“What were they like? You were close?” he asks.
“They were the best. My mom was the typical Italian homemaker, loving and always making sure my dad and I were looked after. She gave the best hugs.” I smile to myself remembering the last time I hugged her goodbye, remembering her unique smell of home. “My dad was a mechanic and loved his bikes. From as young as I can remember, he used to take me out to the garage and teach me how to fix them up. He was firm and a decision maker, traditional, but he loved me and my mom. I wanted to be like him.” Dima remains silent letting me talk. “And then all that got taken away in minutes. My entire family because of a fucking drunk.” My eyes water, pressure builds behind them. “And what makes it worse is he died too so I can't even get revenge on the fucker.” The tears silently spill down my face and Dima’s big arm pulls me into his side for an embrace that I didn't realize I needed. For two years this was all I wanted, someone to listen and be my silent strength. If I didn't know better, I'd say my parents pushed him into my path.
“They’d be so fucking proud of you. You may not think so, but you have survived.”
I release a contented sigh into his embrace, inhaling his comforting scent, feeling safe for the first time in my adult life, knowing that someone else has got my back.
“Fucking love you, D,” I say into his neck.
