Maybe it could be his own little… fortress of solitude. If he wants.
I truly detest the feeling of uncertainty while I wait for him to come meet me.
When he arrives, his eyes land on the bike, and they stay on it. Just… staring.
“For you,” I hum, fighting not to fidget in place. His gaze springs to mine. “It’s a Harley, custom-made. I remembered you mentioning that you… always wanted one.”
He still hasn’t spoken, and it’s weaving my gut into tight knots. We end up staring at one another for a few more heavy seconds, during which I’m questioningeverything.
“Why…?” He finally asks. Face unreadable.
“Because I… need you,” I choke out, clearing my throat. “Too. I need you too. We’ve been together a long time, Jonathan…”
He makes a face like he isn’t sure what I’m saying, and I step forward, urging on bravado.
“I’m not sure I deserve it.” His voice comes out so soft, it’s almost childlike.
Something about it is familiar. This seemingly unnatural desire to…carefor someone.
Shaking it off, I force a curve of my lips. “Youdo. Trust me..” I take his hand in mine, placing the keys in his palm. “Happy… anniversary, Jonathan.Ten years…”
An entire decade, and you haven’t tried to kill or leave me yet…
He sucks in a breath, still so serious as he stares deep into my eyes. Not wavering, just searching. Forwhat, I can’t be sure. But it’s severely unsettling.
I don’t think there’s a human being alive who could stand to uncover what’s at my core… buried beneath far too many hardened layers of molten evil.
Maybe someone headstrong, stubborn… foolish.
Too loyal for their own good.
“Thatisa long time,” he whispers.
A slight chuckle puffs from me, and it finally gets him to crack a smile.
“Are you going to take her for a spin or what?” I cock my brow at him.
At last, he assesses the motorcycle like it’shis, running his fingers over the handlebars. He throws a leg over, straddling it.
He looks almost too good on that thing…
My face tilts, but I catch myself before I can ogle his backside.
“I thought you were gonna get me a Rolls.” He smirks, starting the engine.
Thankfully, the uncertainty in my tone is hidden by the roar, “Next anniversary, I promise.”
It’s dark out when the motorcycle finally goes quiet. But he still doesn’t show up. Not for a while.
Even Steve Islo comes to check in before Jonathan does. And I know he’s just a patsy, but this is his fault too, on some level.
Why wasn’t he watching the cameras?? Why does the footage of Dascha just sort of cut out…? Was he tampering with the recordings, or is he just so inept that he allowed someone else to do it on his watch?
So much incompetence. I simply cannot let this slide.
Someone will need to be punished for this.
I understand why he’s taking so long… Of course I do. He’s likely replaying twelve years of punishments, of groveling and mercy, and pleading.
