“Let’s put him straight to bed,” Letty said. “I can do it if you pass him to me.”
“I’m okay, Letty… Just lead the way,” Miles said. “I don’t want him to wake up.”
The self-assured look on Miles’s face told Letty all she needed to know. There was nothing about this situation that was uncomfortable for Miles. It just felt right. Miles fit into their little family perfectly—like a missing puzzle piece. In that moment, Letty Alves felt complete.
Breaking her gaze from Miles’s face, Letty turned on her heel and led the way up the stairs to the second floor. Climbing the stairs behind her, Miles followed, taking extra care not to wake up G. Miles’s eyes lingered on the walls as they climbed the stairway, his eyes carefully glancing at the photographs and decorative knickknacks that lined the walls. Letty had built a life for herself. Miles couldn’t help but wonder where he fit into her mosaic. That’s when he saw it. A collage frame with photographs of Letty and Miles together. She had framed their prom pictures and a snapshot of them leaning against Corina’s hood on a hot summer night. In the left corner of the frame was Letty’s favorite picture of them. It was taken in the summer of 1997 on the beach at Atlantic City’s Steel Pier. Letty smiled widely as she fell back on Miles’s chest as they lay in the sand. Miles smirked a little. It seemed that when it came to Letty, Miles didn’t need to wonder. Letty had clearly left a spot for him, she was just waiting for his return. Letty didn’t sit idly by, though. Letty wasn’t one to lay in wait. She had a career, a beautiful home, and a family. Miles stared up at Letty, an observant glint eyeing her up and down.
Letty is a beautiful woman. There is no denying that. Other men saw what Miles saw in Letty. After all, Ruin is G’s father. Why is Letty still unattached after all this time?
“Can I ask you a question, Letty?” Miles asked as he reached the top of the staircase.
Letty turned around to face Miles, her eyes meeting his in the dark of the hallway. When she didn’t say anything, Miles continued.
“Why me? You can do better than an ex-con.”
Letty’s lips curled up just slightly as she placed a caring hand on Miles’s forearm.
“I have earned the attention of many men in my life, Miles. Rich men. Successful men. Handsome men…” Letty said, her eyes lingering under the weight of Miles’s gaze. “One encounter with a man even blessed me with this angel,” Letty said as she placed her hand gently on G’s head, stroking his delicate, brown curls. “But you know what, Miles?”
Letty paused giving Miles a chance to reply. When he didn’t say anything, Letty pressed on.
Giving Miles a firm look, Letty replied, “None of them are you.”
A wave of emotion struck Miles in that moment, though he didn’t dare to let it show.
He relented, “You could do better than me.”
Letty shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe. But maybe I don’t want an altar boy… and I sure as hell don’t want no thug. Something told me you weren’t going to be gone forever. I need a good man, not a saint. He needs to be quick on his toes, have a crack shot and not be afraid to pull my hair when I need it. You got me?”
A shit-eating grin tugged at Miles’s lips. “So fucking sassy.”
Letty had listened to her heart and it hadn’t steered her wrong. Miles didn’t believe in fate. He didn’t put much stock into pre-destined futures, but he knew since he was a kid, Letty was meant to be by his side. She was right. He was no saint, but Miles was more than happy to have her back and he’d do more than just tug her hair when she needed it. Biting her lower lip, Letty smiled at Miles as she walked off down the hallway.
“Now come on. Let’s put lil’ man to bed. We have some catching up to do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
DANTE SABATINO TUGGED his jacket closed as he walked down Merion Avenue with a limp. He heard through word of mouth what had happened to Fish, and Dante knew that his head would be next on the chopping block. He knew his only chance at redemption was to make a move. He had to make a gesture. Something big. Something explosive. This is all Miles’s fault, Dante thought.
“I’m gonna make that fucker pay. Just wait,” Dante promised as the cool autumn air turned his words to fog.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX