Page 15 of By Blade, I Love
I continued to pant as I sat there in bed, staring at the dark room and the shadows in the corners. It felt so real, seeing my father’s eyes shift and move, the last part of him that remained alive. “I—I dreamed that?—”
“Baby, it’s okay.” He kissed my shoulder again.
I continued to breathe and sweat, every inch of my skin covered in a thick layer of perspiration. It was drenching my hair. I felt like I’d just done an hour on the elliptical. “I’m so hot. I can’t breathe… I’m scared.”
He got out of bed and started to get dressed.
I continued to sit there in the dark, heaving and panting like I was still running.
“Come on.” He came around the bed and brought me the leggings I wore around the house.
“What?”
“Get these on. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Outside?”
“Yeah. Come on.”
I was still partially asleep, nearly sleepwalking, so he pretty much put them on for me. Then he scooped me into his arms, carried me down three flights of stairs, and walked outside.
The sea air was cold when it hit me in the face…and soothing.
He carried me down the sidewalks, the lampposts lighting up the street along with the sconces on the outside of the other buildings. There wasn’t a single person on the street, not a single car in the road, and he carried me like I weighed nothing on our midnight stroll.
I watched the town pass by like I was a passenger in a car.
He turned the corner and headed toward the sea.
I couldn’t see it because it was dark, but I could hear the waves against the shore, feel the wind pick up as it moved through my hair.
He came to a stop and held me on the sidewalk, stared at the ocean with me, just stood there for minutes like my weight wasn’t the slightest inconvenience to him.
“This is what I used to do when I had nightmares,” he said suddenly.
I turned away from the water and looked at his face. “You used to have nightmares?”
He nodded. “After my mom died. And for a little while after I killed the asshole who shot her. But then I moved on, and they stopped. Haven’t had them since.” He looked out at the water for a few moments before he met my gaze. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. It hurts me to know that you have to carry it.”
His face was blanketed in the light of the lamppost and the moonlight, his stern jawline and handsome face on a beautiful display. I saw an emptiness in his eyes that I felt in my soul, saw the other side of my coin, the other half of my whole. “But I don’t have to carry it alone.”
Wolfe was dressed up like he intended to go out for the night. In a button-up collared shirt with the top open and black jeans, he was as delicious as a piece of tiramisu. He put on one of his flashy watches.
“Do you have plans tonight?”
“Cosa Nostra is having one of their dinners,” he said as he clasped the watch into place. “Don Russo asked me to come.” He turned around and faced me. “We’re both invited, but I didn’t want to pressure you before you’re ready.”
“So you’re going to go out looking hot like that—” I looked him up and down “—by yourself?”
He grinned because he knew exactly how fucking hot he was. “Come on, baby. You know I only have eyes for you.”
“But still…” I knew literally everyone everywhere would stare at him. His thick arms stretched the sleeves of his shirt, and his ink extended a little past the sleeves and the collar. “I don’t like it when people look at you.” It wasn’t a trait I was proud of, but nevertheless, I was a jealous woman. Jealous and possessive and passionate. I never knew I had those qualities until I was in this relationship.
“You’re welcome to come and be all over me.” He continued to smirk like he was enjoying this. “Wouldn’t mind that one bit.”
I’d literally left the house twice, and one of those times had been when he’d carried me through the town to the ocean. Being out and socializing just felt like a weight of dread on my shoulders. But a part of me also missed…life. Missed feeling the cool night air against my skin, missed the energy of a crowded restaurant, missed spending time with Wolfe. All I’d done the past two weeks was grieve.
“No pressure, though.” His smile dropped. “If you aren’t ready, you aren’t ready.”
