I nodded, agreeing.
“He tried not to show it, but he was worried about you. You scared the shit out of us. You’ve never acted like that after…”
After killing someone.
I placed my fork down on my plate before setting the plate on the coffee table. “I’m surprised you aren’t mad at me.”
Jamie narrowed his eyes, perplexed. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because I killed him. I provoked him.”
“He put his hands on you,” he said as if that made it okay.
My stomach churned with guilt. “He didn’t know who I was.”
He shook his head. “You know that doesn’t matter. Don’t forget who you are—who we are,” he said, eyes boring into mine. “Stefan would have made him suffer before he killed him to set an example.”
I picked at the bottom of my shirt as I thought out how to say what I needed to say next. Jamie deserved to know, and I needed to talk about it. I took a deep breath and I just blurted it out. “I liked it. Killing him.”
He stayed quiet, being patient, sensing I had more to say.
“It was so easy, pulling the trigger. Too easy. It was a rush, like that first high from a new drug or an orgasm. It was satisfying but left me wanting more.” I kneaded the back of my neck with my fingers, trying to ease the tension and help stop the heat making its way up to my cheeks. I just compared killing people to orgasming. I dropped my eyes and went back to fiddling with the hem of my shirt again. “Feeling all that felt wrong, or it should. Zack, Tyson, Tom, Tina, they all hurt me, deeply. In my mind, I figured killing them was a kind of twisted form of self-defense and therefore justified. Today, though, all that guy did was hit me after I provoked him. He didn’t hurt me deeply, even if that fucking backhand gave me some real fucked up flashbacks. One second I was standing there with him holding onto me and the next I was seventeen, being held down on that goddamned bathroom floor. It was the same exact hit to the face that gave Zack and Tyson the upper hand to take me down.” I shook my head in disbelief. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that killing him—Greg, I couldn’t justify it, but I didn’t care. Realizing that, I felt guilty for not feeling guilty. I began battling with myself. I fought to hold onto the guilt because it’s what you’re supposed to feel when you murder someone. It was so difficult. The urge to enjoy the high was easy as breathing, but I knew if I gave into it, that’d mean I’m a monster. My mind just snapped.”
Jamie set his plate on the coffee table next to mine before scooting closer. Fingers curled under my chin, gently forcing me to look up at him “You’re not a monster,” he said with so much conviction. “Do you think I’m a monster?”
“No.” I didn’t hesitate in answering. He would never be a monster to me no matter how bloody his hands ever got.
His hand moved up to cup my uninjured cheek. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning into it, loving the feel of his strength and the comfort it provided. “We’re not good people, Maura. We’re the fucking mob. Those who don’t learn to enjoy what we do don’t survive in our world.”
“What if I go crazy? What if I can’t stop?”
He gave me an incredulous look. “You’ve always been crazy. I think you’ll be fine.”
I rolled my eyes, then sighed, deciding to let it go because I trusted him.
“Did Stefan tell you he wants me to start shadowing him?” I got my answer when his face became veiled and he dropped his hand. He knew, but didn’t know what he could let on without breaking Stefan’s confidence or the code of honor. I would never push him. I understood where his loyalties had to be. “I’m going to do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“What else am I supposed to do? Get married and pop out a few kids? That’s not who I am.”
“You could finish school and get a normal job while still being part of this family. I don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into, Maura. Knowing everything this side entails… it’s not easy. It’s bloody and it’s dangerous.”
“I can’t do normal. I tried for six years and I hated every fucking minute of it,” I finally admitted out loud and it felt good. “I’ve already considered the repercussions and worked through my apprehensions. Even if there’s a chance I might regret it later, I still want to do it because I know for a fact, I will regret it now if I don’t.”
Silence stretched between us as he mulled over my words. I waited for him patiently. When he found a reason within himself to accept my decision, he sighed and nodded.
CHAPTER 16
I awoke to warm air tickling my neck and a heavy body practically squishing me. For a second I thought it was Tom. Then my brain roared to life, blowing away the drowsy fog. Tom was dead. I was back home. Jamie had fallen asleep on my bed when we'd lain down to watch a movie last night. I didn’t have the heart to wake him.
While we both slept, he must have gravitated to my side of the bed. His face was buried in the crook of my neck. His torso pinned my entire right side and one of his legs stretched across both of mine. I wasn’t sure if this constituted cuddling or if I'd been rendered the human equivalent of a body pillow. Whatever sleeping Jamie had intended, his hand had made its way up my shirt and was currently groping my boob.
Oh boy.
Murmuring in his sleep, his whole body shifted, and his fingers flexed around my breast. My breathing stalled. Well, one part of him is up. I gaped at the hard rod now pushing into my hip through his slacks. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday. Having kept his promise, he'd never left my side even to go change.
His hand slid to cup the side of my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple. I swallowed a gasp. When his thumb stroked over my puckered flesh once more, my heart rate took off at a galloping rate while I did my best to hold utterly still.
Mumbling incoherently again, he trailed his frisky hand down my stomach, making my skin break out in goosebumps. His pinky finger reached the band of my underwear first. Dipping underneath it, the rest of his fingers followed, sliding over my mound. My eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets.
I need to wake him.
That thought disappeared the moment his fingers grazed my clit. This time I couldn’t contain my gasp. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he began rubbing in small vigorous circles over my tiny bud of nerves. If he keeps that up…oh my. It was killing me not to move. His touch, even asleep, was determined and skilled. With the right amount of pressure and the right motion, my breathing increased. A sleeping man was about to get me off. Fuck, am I taking advantage of him?
With my one free hand, which had been fisted in the bed sheet, I grabbed his bicep, holding on for dear life as he pushed me toward the edge. “Jamie,” I panted in a futile last second attempt to wake him. I got no response, and he kept working me.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck! “Jaaamieeee!” I cried out as my body exploded. His hand froze and his body tensed while my own shuddered from the euphoric waves of my orgasm.
He lifted his head from my shoulder, eyes meeting my hooded ones. I felt flushed, breaths labored. With his hand still touching my clit, it was obvious what just happened. A slow minute passed with us just staring at each other before his eyes widened. He lifted himself off of me, hand retreating from my underwear as he sat back. I sat up too, scooting myself back against the headboard. My cheeks scorched with shame.