He faintly smiled, his eyes raking me over for a second as he declared, “You’re loyal to me. I’m loyal to you.”
I almost chuckled. “It’s not loyalty, Marco. It’s survival.”
He grinned. “You want out?”
When I didn’t answer fast enough, he turned toward the door.
“How?” I reluctantly called out.
He didn’t turn. Instead, he just left.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
KRAVEN
Another week flew by.It’d been a month since Julius was arrested. Once I finished getting ready that morning, I made my way downstairs. I found Isla at the kitchen counter, her hands bracing the edge, almost as if she needed something solid to hold on to.
At first, I was concerned, but I quickly noticed how content she looked. The sunlight beaming through the window was soft, almost gentle, reaching her perfectly. She glistened in the lighting while her hair blew in the soft breeze. Pregnancy agreed with her. Her glow was breathtaking.
I hated to acknowledge this, but not much had changed between us in the past week. I still kept my distance, and she did the same. The few times we spoke were when she asked me about Julius. She went quiet again, reminding me of the girl Julius took in.
As she stood there, I couldn’t help but contemplate what she was thinking. I already knew what she was feeling. She missedJulius, and if I was being honest, I did too. I was beginning to consider the fact that I may not be able to get him out.
It didn’t happen all at once. There wasn’t a moment I could point to and saythere, that was when my thoughts took a turn. Everything in this house felt like it belonged to Julius.
Every doorframe.
Every shadow.
Every inch of space carried the weight of him not physically being there, but emotionally and mentally, it wreaked havoc on both of us. He was in every square inch of this house; there was no escaping him. The house was waiting for him to show back up and take it all.
Including her.
Especially her.
I noticed it in the way she started carrying herself around me. She was more careful. More controlled. She still didn’t trust me, and I didn’t blame her.
I didn’t trust me either.
However, I thought time would do what it always did: wear us down, wear us thin. Where the sharp edges dulled, and the thick tension loosened, but somewhere between the days blurring together and the nights getting longer, it changed between us again.
I stood in the archway longer than I should have, listening to her faint sounds. Everything she did felt reactive. She was surviving the moment in front of her instead of living in it.
Will she ever forgive me? Will Julius?
The thought weighed on me more than I wanted. I should’ve walked away and kept giving her space. I didn’t and stepped into the kitchen without making a sound. She had her back to me, barefoot with her weight shifting on one leg. Her hip was lightly pressed against the counter. She was lost in thought.
She wore one of Julius’s shirts, and it wasn’t surprising. It hung off her, almost swallowing her whole. The fabric dipped off one shoulder, just enough to show some skin, exposing her in a way that didn’t feel intentional, while her bare legs were inviting.
I watched the way her fingers rested against the counter, flexing slightly like she was thinking about something she hadn’t said out loud yet. I saw the slow rise and fall of her shoulders. The way her hair fell down her back in that messy, sexy way, without even trying.
I walked toward her, every step more deliberate than the last. I wasn’t sneaking around. I wasn’t hiding, but I wasn’t announcing myself either. If she heard me, I was worried she’d tell me to leave her alone, and at that moment, I needed her to feel me.
She didn’t turn around or react. It was the subtle change in her posture—the way her shoulders pulled in just a fraction and the way her breath shifted for a second—that told me that she knew I was there.
She always did.
