He looked away, toward the lights, the noise, the life he pretended not to want. And there it was, brief, unguarded, a smile he didn’t realize he was wearing. When he noticed me watching, it was gone.
“Let’s go,” he said gruffly, already moving. “Before someone decides this place is worth shooting up.”
I laughed and followed, my hand slipping into his without asking. He didn’t let go.
fifty-nine
. . .
Remo– 36 years old
The quiet was steadily unnerving because I lived and breathed chaos, noise, and interference. So the quiet was something you either earned or something that was about to be taken from you. I’d fought long enough to know the difference. And yet, walking beside Ishika, I allowed it to exist, to let my shoulders ease and the air hum without measuring how quickly it could turn hostile.
I never thought I’d seek Rayden’s help for dating advice and when I did, I was adamant that I wasn’t that man, the kind who permitted himself to be dictated to, especially not by a woman. But somehow, by fucking Koro, letting her ruin my dominance, she’d inadvertently given Ishika free rein to my life, my secrets, and then this.
I touched the band, swallowing the sarcastic laugh with a slow shake of my head. She’d marked me with a simple piece of leather I would’ve tossed out the car window had it not been for that look in her eyes when she glanced up while clipping the damn thing around my wrist. A strange need I’d sometimes witnessed in the mirror when I stared at myself, trying to figureout who the fuck I was or wanted to be. Granted she was beautiful with the world at her feet, a rising star neurosurgeon according to Carlo, close to getting her brother back, and a fuck like me to gift her mind-blowing orgasms, what else was she missing?
Was it that boy she longed for? That yearn gave me pause, told me the band held significance, for her. And why I couldn’t get rid of it, not yet, not until I discovered what she needed. Patience was virtue and all that shit, but I’d fuck the reason out of her if I had to.
“I like this version of you,” the sudden words pulled me out of my daze, not remembering how we’d reached the car and already driving, the carnival nothing but fragmented lights in my rearview mirror.
I lifted a brow, glancing at her. “This version?”
“The one who isn’t braced for impact,” she laughed, a soft melodious sound. “The one who lets things be comfortably quiet.”
I scoffed lightly. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I know.” It would’ve been a simple answer had she not reached for my hand resting on my thigh, curling hers into mine. “You make things feel less heavy, Remo. Like I can breathe when you’re nearby. Like if something went wrong, you’d already be there.” Her words spilled before she realized what she’d said.
I felt it immediately. Not in my chest. Lower. Deeper. Somewhere behind my ribs where instinct lived free and she saw it on my face. In the way my breath stalled, my jaw tightened, my frown deepened.
“Oh,” she said quickly, tugging at her hand I kept prisoner. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…I mean, obviously you’re intense and terrifying and—” She laughed, rushed and defensive. “That came out wrong.”
It hadn’t.
I didn’t let go of her hand. “Ishika,” I said, my voice low, yet loud enough to be heard over the quiet purr of the engine.
She froze.
“You don’t voice those kinds of things to men like me unless you understand the weight of them.”
Her smile faltered. “Remo, I wasn’t?—”
“I know what you meant.” That was the truth. Worse than if I didn’t. My thumb brushed over her pulse, steady and warm under my touch. Alive. Trusting. “You just didn’t mean to say it out loud.”
Silence stretched between us. I waited.
She swallowed. “Today was great. I didn’t mean to make it complicated.”
“You didn’t.” That was a lie.
Complication was already in motion that moment I chose to shove my cock down the throat of the doctor who proved she didn’t fear me. And worsened the day she slapped me after I kissed her. Since then, I’d felt it spreading in the way my instincts recalibrated around her presence, the way my body subtly shifted to keep her safe without thinking, the way the idea of losing her suddenly felt bizarre.
I released her hand, slowing the car to a pause outside the estate gate.
“Are you angry?”
“No,” I replied, voice harsher than I intended, watching the gate open.
