I softened my gaze. “I didn’t need to,” I said. “I know this club, know you. You’ve been determined to shield me from the worst of the worst, from all my Fuck-Ups. And I’ll love you for that. Among other reasons, like your great taste in wives and cute kids. But I didn’t need that shield that night. Luke was there. Luke’s always been there.”
My eyes moved to Luke, who was staring at me intently. “I’ll always be here, babe,” he promised.
There was a long pause at the table as everyone digested my words.
“Fuckin’ hell, can we stop with the sappy shit?” Gage boomed. “We’ve established that Rosie is a badass bitch, so is it really a surprise that she’s in love with a badass motherfucker too?” he asked the table.
I grinned.
“Can we please get back to figuring out how I’m going to get my killing in this year?” he continued.
The air around the table softened.
So did Cade’s gaze, for a moment at least. Then it hardened again.
“Yeah, let’s get to the killing.”
Chapter Twenty-One
One Week Later
We were staying at Luke’s house because Gage was at mine.
He’d offered to take back his old room at the clubhouse, but I knew no amount of disinfectant would clean out whatever had gone on there.
That and I was afraid.
Afraid of my own house.
The memories, the demons lurking there from that night. What happened. I was terrified that if I went back in there, it would all come back. He would come back: his touch, the invasion of my body. And I’d be reminded of just how easy it was.
I couldn’t. And it made me realize that this was something I was going to live with for the rest of my life. It didn’t make me weak; it would make me stronger. One day. And I knew Luke was right, I did have to talk about what happened. Staying silent, blaming myself when none of what happened to me was my fault, that was weak.
So I’d talk.
Eventually.
But right then, we were about to go out to dinner for Luke’s parents’ anniversary. We’d already done the official dinner with the parents a few days after we’d temporarily moved back to Amber.
I’d been nervous. Very nervous. It was funny, I never thought I’d care so much about something like that. But I cared about Luke more than anything. And he’d given everything to fit in with my family. I was terrified that I couldn’t do the same, that his family wouldn’t want me with him.
That couldn’t have been further from the truth. His father had answered the door with a huge grin, taking me into his smoke-scented embrace.
“Ah, I’m so glad my boy’s finally come to his senses,” he chuckled as soon as he’d let me go.
I smiled. “I think it was me who had to come to my senses,” I replied, glancing up at Luke.
Bill’s eyes twinkled.
“Doesn’t matter how you got here. Just matters that you’re here.” He looked at his son. “Finally.”
And it went like that. I was welcomed. Into a slightly more conventional family than my own, but no less loving.
I wasn’t nervous now. I was getting dressed, slipping into my brightest red dress.
It hugged in all the right places, though a little tight maybe. It was true what they said, happiness in relationships made you put on weight.
Luke hadn’t gained a pound, the prick.
Then again, he was insane enough to go running. Every morning. Even on the weekends. To be fair, he made sure I’d gotten my workout before he left most mornings.
I didn’t mind it, the fact that the zipper was a little more difficult to deal with. I remembered back when I first got home, when my clothes hung off me, when I lost all the curves I’d been so proud of. When I didn’t recognize myself.
I looked in the mirror, running my fingers through my curls, letting them tumble wild down my back. My face was full, no gaunt cheekbones to be seen, which meant I had to contour again. Any use of more cosmetics was welcome to me. My eyes seemed brighter, more vibrant. I touched up my bright red lipstick.
Then I looked down, at the mingling of my numerous cosmetics products with Luke’s lone tube of deodorant and bottle of aftershave. He didn’t even gel his hair and it looked that good, the prick.
A glint of silver peeked out from behind my Chanel perfume. I was a magpie, so I was attracted to the shiny thing, my red-tipped fingernails fastening on it.
The steel was cold on my hands and the feeling crept into my fingers, upward so it was everywhere all at once. I fingered the lettering, seeing my warped reflection in the silver.
“Babe, are you ready to go?”
I turned. Luke was dressed all in black, slacks but no suit jacket. Black shirt, open collar.
Black.
What he was now.
And he looked good.
I’d never loved him more. Or hated myself, just in that moment.
“Babe?” he repeated, face contorted in worry. It changed when I turned and he saw what I had clutched in my hands.
“You don’t wear this anymore,” I whispered. “Because of me.”
His eyes hardened. “No—”
“And you’re not who you’re meant to me because of me,” I continued before he could speak. “You talk about killing people and you scare nurses and you don’t care because I made you different. I fucked up. Biggest one of them all. Because I forgot who you are, who you’re meant to be. The good person. The good man. I know I’m not bad or evil, but I’m not that good either. I’m somewhere in between.”
“Rosie,” he whispered.
“There are two kinds of people in this world, people who make mistakes and people who have regrets,” I continued to babble. “The people who have regrets are the ones too afraid to do something as daring as live so instead they collect what-ifs like stamps, bundle them up and inspect them in the winter of their life.” I paused. “Then there’re the others, the ones who are too daring, who live maybe a little too much. Collecting mistakes and experiences and watching them on repeat with a smile on their face. Fuck-Ups may be hard to live with sometimes, but at least it means you’ve done something. Moved. It’s no secret which camp I hitch my wagon to. What’ll yours be?” I said it in a rush, a confidence radiating from my voice as faux as my fur.
He watched me, knowing the invitation behind my words. “I’ve got enough regrets to curse and inspect in the winter of my life, babe,” he said. “But I’ll be okay inspecting them if I’ve got a thousand summers with you. Making mistakes, maybe, but one I know I won’t make is standing right in front of me.” His hands fastened at my hips, yanking me close to him. “Maybe there was a time where I was that first type of person. Actually, there’re no fucking maybes about it. I was. You were too. Because you lived wild and free, babe, that’s true. But livin’ wild when chaos is your normal is the same as livin’ normal when you know nothing else. Maybe we both did the dance of regret with each other. I’m not gonna let us do that. Any mistake I make with you will be a treasure as long as I’ve got you beside me in the winter of my life.”
“But—”
He took the shield from my hands.