“Why did you do that?” I whisper.
He crawls up my body and slumps his weary head on my stomach. I try to lift his jaw, to meet his eyes, but he resists, wrapping his arms around my waist tighter.
“I just wanted to feel something.”
“And did you?” Because I did. Something I thought I’d never feel again, let alone with a man. Do I have serious feelings for the dirty-talking grease monkey?
“I wanted this … I want you. I was gonna fuckin’ tell you that before they came.” His voice is thick with emotion. Tears brim in my eyes as I process what he’s just admitted.
He wants me?
“I’m fuckin’ ruined. I’m no good to you or anyone else.”
I swallow around the large lump in my throat. With tender strokes I run my fingers over his hair and hug his broad shoulders. “Please don’t say that.”
Hot tears drip onto my stomach and his upper body jerks. I rub his back, comforting him as he breaks down. My heart aches for this man, but I have to hold myself together. He needs someone to be strong for him.
“I’m here,” I whisper.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ROCCO
Thursday
I’ve been staring at the ceiling since fuck knows what hour. Now the sun is well and truly up. My mind has been racing, processing what happened, and what I have to deal with in the wake of it. I did this.
Twenty-five and dead.
I’ve been holding his inheritance in trust for when he turned twenty-five. It was his as soon as he got out. Now I’ll be spending some of that money on his fucking funeral.
The MC won’t have any say in this. I will fight until my last breath to do it my way. The De Luca way. I’ll organise a private ceremony at a time and place of my choosing. Does the club even know he’s dead? Do they fucking care? Surely it’ll get back to them. Inmates talk. With any luck, I hope the cops pick something up in their phone conversations.
The mattress shifts, and with a soft sigh, a warm hand stretches across my bare chest.
“Hey,” she breathes, patting her hand over my heart.
I grip her hand and hold it there, this simple action calming the raging sea of emotions swirling inside me.
“Hey,” I say back, and let out a long sigh.
Even after what happened between us, she stayed. Thank fuck.
She turns onto her side to face me, tucking her tangled locks behind her ear. “Did you sleep?” Her eyes probe mine, but they’re not asking the same question that just came from her mouth. They’re asking a hell of a lot more … and I don’t know the answer.
“Some,” I mutter.
“Do you want some breakfast? Toast or something?”
“Nah, not real hungry.”
“I’ll be back in a sec.” She dashes from the room, her top creased and her shorts riding up her crack. She curses from the next room, no doubt about the seat. A minute later the toilet flushes and the sink tap whines.
She tiptoes to the bed and slides back under the covers, tucking the sheet under her chin, which is jumping up and down as she shivers. “Sorry I was busting.”
Those emerald eyes stare me down once more as we share a moment of silence.
“It’s my last shift at the café today, but I can stay,” she offers.
Stay.
“No. I need to be alone.”
“Are you sure?”
No.
“I’ve got calls to make, and I’ll probably have to go see my solicitor.” As much as I appreciate her offer, she doesn’t need to tag along for that. If anything, it’d make that shit harder. My emotions seem to run freer with her around. I don’t need to be making a tool of myself. I need to sort this shit, and it’s better if I do it alone.
“I can take the day off. I never take leave. I’m sure Tony would be—”
“Suds, it’s your last day. Go end on a high. I’m sure they’ve got something special planned for you, anyway.”
Suds hurries to the door, then turns and stares longingly as she grips the door handle. She gives me a soft smile and leaves the room. I stare at the imperfections in the ceiling as the water pipes groan.
Ask her to stay.
I send Mac a text, telling him I’m not well and I can’t make it in today. I need to buy some time before I reveal the real reason why.
Ten minutes later, Suds is sitting on the edge of my bed dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt, jeans and her Doc Martens. There’s no escaping her puffy eyes. It looks as if she had trouble sleeping, too.
She leans over and kisses my forehead, her soft, sticky lips leaving remnants on my skin.
I fight with myself not to give in, not to drag her back into bed and hold her so I can focus on her and shut everything else out.
“You need anything, you call. ’Kay?”
“’Kay.”
I watch her walk out that door and wonder where in the hell I’m gonna start.
****
Suds comes in the door a little after five. I take my head out of my hands and stare at the mountain of paperwork spread across the dining table. I have a splitting headache, and I’m running on exhaust fumes. There’s nothin’ in the tank. My head is clouded with thoughts of timber coffins and words of comfort from Father Michael. He was there when each of my parents passed. When I saw him today, he was shocked by the news about V.
“Hey,” she says and slowly approaches the table with two white plastic bags. The strong smell of spices has my stomach growling. “I brought Thai. I didn’t want you to have to think about cooking or anything,” she says, stammering over her words.
This girl.
“Thanks,” I mutter, as I shuffle the papers into a pile and shove them to the end of the table.
Suds places the bags down and returns with plates and cutlery. She sits opposite me and hands me a white dinner plate.
“Did you eat anything today?” she asks, narrowing her eyes as she scours my face. “You look pale.”
“A bit of jelly, but that’s it.”
I’d contemplated tequila for breakfast, but all I could find was an empty bottle in the recycling bin. Suds to the rescue.
“Not enough,” she says, pointing a finger at me before handing me a knife and fork. Suds scoops some Pad Thai onto my plate, and then her own. “Eat,” she bosses.
I scoop in a mouthful, letting the flavours roll around my mouth to distract me from heavy thoughts.
“How was the last day?” I ask her. I don’t want to talk about me, or the fucked-up shit I’ve had to deal with today.
A weird look overcomes her face. “Good.”
“Just good? No farewell party?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, we’re gonna do something in a week or so.”
Did she cancel plans because of me?
“And you’re cool with that?”
“Yes. Now eat.”
We eat in silence, yet our eyes are glued to one another. I blink back tears as last night plays over in my head. She reaches her hand across the table, and I take a good hold of it as I finish my mouthful. These hands held me together last night.
I don’t have the balls to bring up what happened in my bed. While I’d wanted to do that to her for the longest time, I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. How was it fair on her? I went to town on her. If she had told me to stop, I would have in a second flat. I’d thought somehow I could escape my thoughts by focusing on something I truly wanted.
There was no redemption in what I did. What I did was risk ruining something good … the only good thing in my life.
Her being here, holding my hand like this, means I haven’t completely fucked up. Thank fuck for that.