“I brought dinner. Sit down,” he demands, placing the pizza box on the counter next to the Pepsi.
“That’s okay. I’ll make my own dinner,” I respond, bringing a pan down from the cabinet. It’s sweet he brought me dinner, but the last thing I need is for him to feel I depend on him.
“No, you won’t,” he replies, grabbing the pan and putting it back in its original place.
I huff at his controlling behavior. Jerk the pan back down and place it on the stovetop.
“Yes. I think I will,” I say, raising my voice.
Shadow lowers his head and growls. His eyes hood with anger as he grabs me by the hips, throwing me over his shoulder.
“Shadow, put me down!” I yell, my hands slapping at his back.
He plops me down on the couch and points at me. “Don’t get up or I’ll just carry your ass back in here. I brought you dinner so you could stay off your feet,” he states, opening the pizza box.
I groan in frustration and sit back on the couch.
He grabs a slice right out of the box and hands it to me. “Eat,” he demands.
“No plate?” I question.
Shadow looks at me as if I have lost my mind. “Plate? It’s finger food.”
I shrug and take a bite of the pizza. I never knew pizza was a finger food. My mother always made me get a plate for whatever we were eating, even if it was chips, which we had to put in a bowl.
“How are the feet?” he asks, chomping on his own slice of pizza.
I look down at them and notice they look better than they did.
“Better. Thank you,” I reply gratefully, avoiding eye contact. This is so awkward; there is so much which needs to be said but hasn’t.
“Why are you doing all this?” I wonder, finishing my slice of pizza.
“All of what?” Shadow asks, rubbing his greasy hands on his jeans.
“You want to play that game?” I stand up, peeved he won’t talk to me. I groan with frustration and walk toward the kitchen to get a cup but don’t make it past Shadow.
“Dani,” Shadow says, grabbing my forearm and stopping me. I look at him, waiting for him to explain why we have been broken and uncivilized toward one another. His face stares down at my legs before he slowly raises his gaze upwards.
He lets go of my arm and sighs, “I don’t even know where to start to make things right between us.”
My heart thuds against my chest, and my breathing quickens. I don’t know what to say to that. He just admitted he wanted things to become right between us. If I’m being honest, I don’t want to move on from the club or Shadow. As asinine as it sounds, I’m in love with the Devil and I can’t escape the hold he has on me, even if it crushes me.
“Try,” I urge, sitting back down on the couch.
Shadow sits on the coffee table, resting his elbows on his knees and sighing deeply, his back lifting as he inhales.
“The club has been my life before I ever knew you. They took me in and became my family when I had none,” he says, taking a long breath. “If the club didn’t believe you,” he pauses, “who knows what the order would have been. I couldn’t handle the thought of the club hurting you, and I couldn’t accept the thought that I might have chosen to go against my club to save you. Worst of all, who knows if I would have been handed the orders.”
His words suck the breath from my lungs. I knew the club might have found me guilty for being involved with the FBI, and I knew actions against me could occur. I just never knew how close to reality that possibility was until now. I stand and start walking, pacing as I take in what he just said.
“At first, I thought you were in on it with your mother, but then you came back. Even getting past my trust issues, the thought of harming you was suffocating.” He says it with such sorrow, his eyes squinted causing wrinkles to form at the corners. I can’t help the rage building inside me.
“My dad would never let anything happen to me,” I whisper, emotion heavy in my voice. I blink away the tears pooling in my eyes, making it hard to see.
“Dani,” Shadow pauses, “he would have been the one to give the order.”
I fall to the floor, the weight of the situation too much for me to handle.
Shadow falls to his knees in front of me. “Dani,” he coos softly.
“After last night, I assured the club you are not a threat. The club fucked up not trusting you, and everyone wants to show their apology by welcoming you back in. I fucked up,” he whispers. “I should have trusted you, but the hold you have over me had me scared to death to let you back in. That feeling when you were taken away as a witness was terrifying. I have never felt so broken in my life.”
All I can do is sob, trying to fight the tears of fear. He talks about how hard it is to trust people, but how can I trust he won’t change his mind and kill me in my sleep?
“This is our world, Dani,” he says, his tone sounding like it’s supposed to make everything okay. Like this is normal.