Chapter 60 No Hug For Dear Old Dad?
Tangled. Warm. Snuggled.
Those are the first three sensations I register as I open my eyes the next morning. Then the smell of David hits me and I suddenly remember everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours.
David is wrapped around me, caging me to his body, in a protective way that makes me feel safe. His eyes are still closed, his chest moving steadily with his breaths, and I spend a few seconds just admiring how peaceful he looks in that moment.
He isn’t Mr. Reid, he isn’t a CEO, he isn’t a mob boss. He is just the beautiful man I am in bed with, who has turned my life upside down.
Feeling like I want to do something, just to appreciate him without fully waking him up, I snuggle closer and start pressing light kisses to his chest, letting the happiness of being so close to him in such a mundane way fill my mind.
Then he is shifting. And inhaling sharply.
And he opens his eyes and looks down at me. Because of course I woke him up.
“Morning, Darling.” He greets groggily, yawning and rubbing his eyes before he wraps his arm back around me and pulls me somehow closer. He hums, more in satisfaction than anything, grazing his thumb over my spine as he holds me close.
We both lay in silence for a few minutes, still waking up properly, but also just thinking about what to say to each other. Maybe now is a good time for me to tell him–
“How are you feeling?” he asks, and I let out a sudden breath.
“Good.”
“Just good?”
“Very good.” I tease, looking up at him with a smile. He wastes no time in leaning down and kissing me, soft, but too long for the first thing in the morning. “David, coffee first!” I laugh, trying to wriggle out of his grasp but not succeeding at all. In fact, I am so unsuccessful that he’s managed to roll me onto my back and kiss me again.
“A few more minutes.” He mutters against my lips, keeping everything light, and gentle, keeping a couple of inches of air between our bodies, letting his tongue just graze me, not giving anything a chance to descend into a repeat of last night.
He finally gives me a moment of reprieve when he trails his lips down to my neck. I slide my hands up his chest, his neck, playing with the short strands of his hair as my fingers thread through.
“You’re gonna have to let me out of this bed soon, you know?” I hum, not really believing in my words, my eyes closed as he continues to make me feel so fucking loved.
“Coffee can wait.” He replies, his lips now tracing a pattern across my collarbone.
“Hmm, disagree. Need my morning fix.”
“You’re the only thing I need right now.”
Well shit, how am I supposed to respond to that?
It seems my body responds for me. By rolling him onto his back and getting out of bed so fast that even he is surprised. I grab his shirt from last night, that I find on the floor as I wildly look around, and pull it on, sputtering about how I’ll make the coffee before running out of the room.
It isn’t until I’ve filled the machine and pressed the start button that I let my head fall forward, bumping onto the cupboard and think about just how fucked the situation really is. This morning, last night, the Ball. Everything has always been such a rollercoaster with David, but lately it is uncontrollable, like I am an asteroid hurtling through space, not caring what I crash into.
I have no idea how to get it back under control.
I jump when his hands snake around my waist, tightening on my stomach, his lips finding their way to my neck once again.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, his voice quiet. I detect the vulnerability in his words too, probably only because of how well I know him. It doesn’t ease the stab in my heart at all though.
“Yeah. Yeah just…” I breathe.
“Too much before coffee?”
“Something like that.”
“I know last night was… a lot. Before the good bits.” He smiles, making me turn around in his arms to face him. “I need to explain what happened at the Ball–”
“He was the guy, right?” I interrupt, not looking him in the eyes, instead playing with the band of his boxers he’s apparently put on. “The head of the other organisation that’s been targeting you? Trying to get me?”
“Yes.”
I nod. Once I’d processed the shock of seeing him there, I had actually realised why he was there, why David had rushed over to me, and why we’d all gone straight to the car when given the chance. But I just needed the confirmation.
Now I need to know exactly how much David knows.
“Have you found out why he was targeting me?”
“No.”
“And… what he said,” I start. “Do you know why he let us leave, like that?”
“No.” He replies, and I can feel his defences starting to stack back up in his mind. “We’ll find out.” He adds, reaching around me to take the finished coffee pot and pour out two mugs.
My heart is thumping, and I know that now is my moment to say something, to start explaining. It will shatter the perfectness that I’ve found myself in this morning, and I know David won’t look at me in the same way. But maybe he’ll get over it, like he did when he found out about The Red Room.
Because if that situation taught me anything, it is that honesty is the best policy.
“David, I need to–”
“David!” comes a shout from the hallway, interrupting me and instantly drawing David’s attention to Marcus as he rushes into the kitchen, panting slightly. “We found it. Them. They asked you to come down and–”
“They what?!” David strides towards him, his coffee left abandoned on the counter beside me as I stare at Marcus with a dropped jaw. “You spoke to them?”
“Well they kind of jumped us and then when we started gearing up for a fight they just said that you and their boss need to talk and we needed to make it happen.”
David runs his hand over his face.
“Okay.” He sighs, but I can see his shift into mob boss mode. “We’re going to need a plan. Get everyone to meet Theo at HQ in thirty minutes, I’ll get ready and go with Harlan, you stay here.”
Marcus just disappears from the kitchen, where to, I’m not sure, but I hear him on the phone just two seconds later, so I suspect he is pacing the lounge and following David’s instructions. David turns back to me and kisses my forehead.
“I’m sorry, I have to go. We’ll talk when I get back, okay?” he says, and I nod in response. I can’t just drop this on him while he is heading out the door. I need time, he needs time, to understand, to process.
Seems like I am waiting until later.
Two hours after David has left, and I’ve been pacing across the entire apartment, trying to plan out how I am going to tell him. Marcus has been checking in, every now and then, but he always runs off quickly to another room, to take another phone call. It is eerily similar to how David had been when we returned from the safe-house.
I am also waiting for Selena to text me back.
My new ‘secure’ phone had been delivered by Harlan when he and David left this morning, and I had immediately texted her, telling her that I needed to speak to her, before realising that she would still be asleep after working last night.
So I am waiting.
At 13:27, she texts back.
Immediately, I call her, ignoring her groggy morning voice that scolds me for dropping off the face of the earth for over a week, and launching into a hushed monologue about everything that has happened since. I hear Selena drop her mug when I tell her about the Ball. And who I ran into. Who David is supposedly now talking to.
Marcus comes into the room not long after that, asking if I want to go and get some lunch. I suspect that like me, he is feeling a bit too antsy to sit in the apartment. I tell Selena I’ll call her again later to carry on our conversation, then grab my coat, and follow Marcus out the door.
I am halfway down the street when I realise that I am actually outside, with Marcus. No other security, no ten-step plan for if things go wrong. Maybe Marcus isn’t thinking straight. Maybe he feels there is less risk considering anyone who is related to mob business is currently in a meeting with two kingpins at the table.
Either way, I don’t bring up the fact that Marcus has allowed me to walk to the café with him, order my own coffee and even sit at the little table by the window. I can see his eyes are tired as he stares into his cup, stirring the spoon much longer than is needed. I mention that I spoke to Selena, and see his eyes flash with a lighter emotion, and then I see guilt. I file a mental note to bring Marcus up when I speak to Selena later, because clearly both of us have left her in the lurch.
Taking another sip of my coffee, I look around the café, not being able to think of much else to say to Marcus right now. I want to speak to my best friend, and I want to speak to David. Neither are really an option at the minute.
Scanning back across the room, my eyes pick up on something that I hadn’t spotted before. On the counter where I’d picked up our drinks from, right beside the tip jar, is a neatly folded, hand-sized decorative origami swan in bright purple paper.
It takes a second for the ball to drop.
“Marcus…” I say, the panic shooting through me. “I uh… I need to pee.”
“Um, okay? They’re over there.” He replies, a bit bewildered by my comment. I stand up quickly, walking over to where he had pointed, passing the counter and snatching the paper bird up as I go.
Checking over my shoulder, I see Marcus is getting his phone out of his pocket, his eyes completely absorbed in the task, and I sidestep to where the ‘EXIT’ sign is, racing to push open the door into the back alley, and looking up and down, praying I’m not right.
But of course, I am.
He stands leaning against the wall opposite the door I’ve just come out of, one ankle crossed over the other, hands in his pockets, and he waits until it shuts behind me to step forward. It is the man from the Ball. The man from my past I have been trying so hard to keep from running into my present. But somehow I knew it was always inevitable that he’d find me again at some point.
He smiles, twistedly, evilly, like he is a snake trying to charm its prey. Then he speaks.
“Nice to see you again.” He says, before holding his arms out to the side.
After a few seconds of me just staring back at him, he drops his arms.
“What, no hug for your old dad, sweetheart?”