When we'd stood on the scene after that, her body tied up in Jacob's trunk, he'd taken me by the hand. His grip was tight, brutal. The torment in his face mirrored mine on the morning I'd sparred with him; when I'd argued for Marina's future.
“She saved me,” he said, never breaking eye contact. “That day in the club, she kept my identity from being revealed to a dangerous man. Even if she broke her promise and failed our test... she saved me. She didn't have to, but she fucking did.” His forearm was bulging under his sleeve. “How can we sentence her to death after everything she's done for us?”
The buzzing in my head became a raging hurricane. Crushing his palm, I yanked him in and hugged him roughly. “You really want to save her?” I asked, willing my voice not to shake.
“Yes. I really do.”
I met my best friend's stare and nodded. “Guess we better clean this shit up, then. What's the point in letting her live if the cops put us all in jail later?”
After that, we'd driven her upstate, all the way to the place we'd made our first kill.
It had been a challenge for me to expose Marina to my past. My old life, my childhood, was the most vulnerable and hated part of me. Telling my story had left me hollow. But she had to know.
It was the only way.
Now, standing at my window, I made a fist.
Two scars burned on my flesh, old and new.
This wasn't the future I had dreamed of, but now, I couldn't imagine anything else.
Nothing was as right as what we shared.
Marina had been the one thing missing from my existence.
Finally...
I had a purpose again.
Jacob
––––––––
She stood with her back to me, a vision of ethereal beauty.
The graveyard was blossoming, green with the coming spring. Marina's hair was down, blowing in the breeze in lazy curls. I was filled with the desire to wrap my hands in it, brush it over my cheeks as I listened to her breathe.
Breathe.
I couldn't get over the fact she was still alive.
Watching her from the shade of a tree, I waited. Interrupting her would have been wrong, this was an important moment for her.
She'd set out to get vengeance, and she'd completed that task. Marina's chains had been removed. Peace was slow in coming, though.
Kite and I had both woken to her nightmares, but over the last week, they'd become shorter.
Softer.
She always slept better with us nestled at her side.
Turning, she lifted a hand, capturing her dark strands as they blew into her face. Coiling them behind an ear, her eyes went to the sky. I wanted to see what she did. Whatever it was, it made her smile.
Spotting me, Marina waved, heading across the grass. For the occasion, she'd put on a flowing, butter-yellow dress that waved around her knees. I loved her no matter what she wore, but seeing her so angelic was stirring me up.
Leaning off of the tree, I took my hands from my jacket pockets. I planned to cup my fingers on her cheeks, but she beat me.
Tan arms snaked around my neck, she stood on tiptoe to reach me with her kiss. It was quick, too quick. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
Smiling sideways, I hooked my hands around her middle. “Anabelle insisted I get some air. She said I'd been inhaling more paint fumes than I realized.”
“So you came and found me?” Lifting an eyebrow, she cocked her head. “It's only been a few hours, did you miss me that badly?”
Thumbing her chin, I tilted her jaw up and spoke with cool intensity. “I miss you every second you're out of my sight.” Her blush was a treasure.
Clearing her throat, she stepped back, sliding her fingers into my hand. Our bandages touched. “It's strange,” Marina whispered. Facing towards the cemetery, she looked like she was listening to the wind. It jostled the leaves over our heads. “I'm still having trouble believing it's over.”
Pushing her hair off of her collar bone, I drew her to my side. It was where she belonged. “When Kite and I killed his uncle, I don't think we slept well for weeks. Maybe months.” She angled her face, staring up at me. “Sometimes the scars we carry take time to heal over. Even if the wounds were made for a good reason.”
Her lips glistened, parting and begging to be touched. “I wanted to ask you something,” she said gently. “Your Gram... and your father... what ever happened to them, do you know?”
It was my turn to smile sadly. “My dad killed himself in the psych ward. I didn't know until I was a teen, I looked him up and found his obituary. As for Gram...” Shaking myself, I gazed over the tombstones. They made me think of my younger brother's funeral.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Nodding, I said, “The day we made our bond, Kite and I cleaned up at his uncle's home. I knew we needed to leave, and fast, but I wanted to see her. My nostrils flared from my brisk inhale. “I told her I loved her. She looked up from the TV long enough to tell me that she loved me, too.”
I love you too, Bill.