“If he’s dead, does that mean I should forgive her? She killed him for me. But I don’t think I can forgive her.” She sounded so utterly and hopelessly lost. Like she was alone in the wilderness without a compass. Well, I’d be her motherfucking north.
I held her chin gently in my hand and tilted her face up to look at me. “You listen to me, Sunshine. Your ma is one sick fuck. By the sound of it, she ain’t been right in the head since long before your dad died. She killed Frank out of jealousy, not because she was protecting you. After what she did, there’s no evening the score—not ever. So don’t you feel like you need to forgive either of them for anything. I hope they both die and spend eternity burning in hell.”
“When this is all over and your fight and my exams are done, I want to finish our home, close the door, and keep the world out for at least a week,” she told me shakily.
“Sounds like a fucking good plan to me, love,” I said with a chuckle. Em tucked herself in closer to my body. After a while, the shivering stopped, and her warm breath evened out as it blew gently across my neck. I knew that Em was finding all this difficult to process, but for me, it was like Christmas had come early. In all likelihood, Frank was dead, the evil poison in our life that was Margaret Thomas was looking at twenty years behind bars, that’s if she made it at all, and my girl was lying safe in my arms.
*
After making sure that Nikki was all right, we all piled into Liam’s truck and headed home. Em didn’t protest as I carried her up the stairs to our flat. After taking my keys out of the lock, I kicked the door shut and headed straight to the bathroom with her still in my arms.
“What are you doing?” she mumbled as I set her down on the toilet seat lid.
“Hot bath,” I replied. “It will make you feel better.” I knew she’d need to wash away the stink of Frank’s touch, and I needed to be close to her, to feel like I was taking care of her. She liked baths hot enough that you could boil off a layer of skin of you jumped in too quick. Being only used to ice baths I was a complete fucking pansy arse about dipping my balls into the scalding water, but I did it for Em.
Pulling her to stand up, I carefully undressed her and folded her clothes neatly in a pile. She’d kill me tomorrow when she was feeling better if I chucked them all over the floor. When she was naked, I pulled my shirt over my head and made quick work of my boots, jeans, and underwear. She was so tiny that I lifted her effortlessly into the bath and then sat behind her, pulling her back against my chest. Pouring a ton of that smelly shit she liked onto a sponge, I washed her carefully as she laid against me with her eyes closed. When I got to her chest, I had to adjust my cock so it didn’t impale her, but in all honesty, it had been at half-mast since I started undressing her.
“That thing’s got a mind of its own,” she giggled sleepily.
“It’s not my fault. There’s invisible string connecting my cock to your top. As soon as the top comes off, my cock salutes in approval.” She giggled again, and it was such a fucking beautiful sound I wished I could bottle it and take it away with me across the world. I’d call it my jar of happiness, and it would let the sun shine into the dark.
There are days when men take their woman for granted. When you come through the door tired and hungry and don’t see how tired she is or how the place is spotless and how, as you’re hoovering your meal without really tasting it, she’s spent ages in the kitchen making that just for you. There were probably days that I’d already done that to Em, and try as I might to make sure that didn’t happen, it probably would, on occasion, happen again.
Today wasn’t one of those days. My beautiful, gentle, loving wife was safe in my arms, and our bright and shining future was right in front of us. I sent a silent prayer upstairs for that. Fuck success and fuck the money ’cause everything I had right here and now was more than I ever deserved. More than I ever dared to dream. That didn’t mean though that laying the world at her feet wasn’t still on the agenda. Rico Temple’s attitude pissed me off, and I had some shit kicking to do.
“I’m supposed to be back on a flight tomorrow night,” I told her, “but I don’t want to leave you.”
“The university would probably let me bail on the exams if I asked them. They’re only internal exams, sort of mocks for the finals. But I’m going to take them anyway,” she told me.
“Why, if you can get away without doing them?” I asked as I rubbed the sponge gently up and down her arm.
“Because fuck Frank and his memory, that’s why. Today he took the last piece of normality he’s ever going to take again. The trial and worrying about Frank has messed around my final year so much, but I’ve worked hard for these exams and I’m going to sit them. And when I pass, I hope Frank gets my ‘fuck you’ message in hell.”
“Baby?” I asked.