Page 12 of His Savage Bride
Joey snorts, which I take to mean he’s either amused or in agreement. Regardless, I turn my attention back to Constance. “Relax, we’ll hear from her soon. In the meantime, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”
Once we arrive back at the estate, Trenton waves Joey to a stop by the gate. He steps out to speak to the guard for a minute, going over the events of the day and our plans for heightened security. I can see a local patrol officer sitting in his car on the far side of the cul-de-sac, keeping an eye on my driveway. Trenton hops back into the truck and at his gesture, Joey drives us along the meandering path through my front garden and right up to the staircase leading to the main doors.
“I’ll go gas this thing up. I’ll be back soon,” Joey says as the rest of us pile out of the truck.
“Good work today,” Trenton tells him as he waves him off. I don’t reply. I’m already halfway up the stairs with my arm around Constance’s waist.
Leonard throws open the doors as we approach. When he sees me guiding Constance up the steps, he rushes forward asif to offer her his arm on her other side. “Are you all right?” he asks, concern etched in every line of his aged face.
“I’m fine. Someone has just been overly handsy ever since they picked me up from the station.” She gives me a half smile to soften the blow of the words as she plucks my hand from her waist and pulls away from me. “I can make it upstairs just fine, you two. I can’t wait to get into the shower. Please, excuse me.”
“I can’t help it,” I tell her as she walks away. “I can’t stand the thought that I could have lost you today.”
“Let’s save that talk for when we’re alone, shall we?” She pauses and turns back to give me another weary smile, then trudges up the stairs to our bedroom on the second floor.
“I need a drink,” I tell Leonard after she disappears on the landing above us. “Let’s go see what Tony brought for dinner and have a nightcap. Have you been able to turn up anything yet about Irina?”
“Nothing yet. She’ll turn up, Maximo. What happened to Constance today was her best shot at you, and she missed. If she’s smart, she’s already on a plane back to Russia putting as many miles as she can between the two of you.”
“The Volkovs killed Enzo and Luca,” I say, as if he needs any reminder. “If I had abandoned my attempts to kill Kirill after what he had done to your son, would you have just let it go?”
“No, I suppose not,” Leonard agrees. “But let’s not dwell on Irina Volkov right now. You’re safe, and so is Constance. She won’t make any move against us here, not while we’ve got our guard up. Try to relax tonight and take care of Constance.”
“I intend to try, if she’ll let me,” I say with a frown.
There’s been a distance between us since I picked her up at the station, which I assume is just the lingering trauma of everything that’s happened to her. Constance is just tired, I tell myself, but I can’t quiet the gnawing anxiety that the more she sees of the life I live, the less she wants to live it with me.
6
“Hard days don’t last forever. But the choices you make on them do.”
— ROBERT MONROE
Constance
I dosomething unusual when I step into the bathroom adjoining our bedroom.
I lock the door behind me.
Up until now I’ve welcomed Maximo’s company, even in the bathtub, but tonight I don’t want to be interrupted. I turn the shower on and shimmy out of my ruined clothes as steam billows up and the long mirror over the sink fogs over.
I’m glad the mirror is cloudy. I don’t want to look at myself right now. I feel disgusting. Not just physically, from the gore that seems to be caked into every crease of my flesh, but deepinside for what my best friend has suffered. Melissa is in the hospital with a crushed face because of my actions.
I step into the shower and gasp as the scalding water strikes me, then sink down to the floor of the tub and let the spray wash over my head until my hair hangs over my face. Hidden behind the locked door and the curtain of my sodden hair, I begin to shiver and burst into tears. Deep, racking sobs rip through me as I finally let go of my iron grip on my emotions and let the terror of the day sweep through me.
My anguish over Melissa’s injuries and the horror of what I did overwhelm me. I had no choice but to kill the two men who had assaulted us; I know that rationally. But knowing I had to do it is different from the act itself, from the memory burned into my mind of their final agonizing moments, and from the knowledge that it could just as easily have been me and my tiny passenger. It feels as if it will rip me apart. The panic that I’ve been holding at bay with nothing but sheer determination pours out of me in a flood of tears that burn my eyes hotter than the water beating down on me.
I don’t know how long the racking sobs consume me. I sit there on the floor of the shower, rocking back and forth until the trembling and gasping finally subside. With a deep breath, I force myself to my feet and seize the bottle of shampoo, ready to get down to the grim work of scrubbing the blood out of my hair. I have to shampoo it three times before I’m satisfied it’s clean, then I grab the body wash and get to work on the rest of my body. I thought for sure Maximo would come knocking before I managed to pry the dried gore from under my nails, but even though it’s been at least an hour, he has the decency to leave me alone.
When I finally cut the water off and step out of the shower, I feel clean even though my skin is raw. I grab the bottle of lotion from under the sink and cover myself in it, then dry my hair.By the time I step out into the bedroom to find fresh clothes, I almost look like my old self. The woman I was before I met Maximo. I pull one of the knee-length silk gowns I like to sleep in over my head, then wrap myself in the bathrobe I claimed as mine the first night I was here. I’m bone-tired and want to pass out, but I need to see Maximo and find out if Melissa ever responded to my text.
I can hear voices coming from downstairs when I step out of the bedroom, so I make my way to the kitchen where several men are gathered. Trenton is there pulling meat off a piece of chicken with his bare hands, while several other men I recognize stand around sharing a bottle of wine.
“Hey, lady,” Trenton greets me as he chews. “You looking for Maximo? He’s in his office making some calls.”
“It’s late,” I observe as I glance at the clock behind him. “Did he say everything is okay?” I open a cabinet and retrieve a glass, then fill it with water from the refrigerator dispenser.
“Eh, it’s nothing to do with us.” Trenton waves a dismissive hand. “He said he had some messages from the CFO over at Luciani Financial regarding some trades Senator Berry wanted to make before the markets open tomorrow. I think he’s just reviewing the numbers and seeing if he wants to match the senator’s moves.”
