Page 27

Omri—

I’ll be honest. I’ve never written a letter. And I’m not sure how to write one now. But for you…I will try.

The beginning of my life was rooted in violence. Scars litter my body and my soul, a reminder of what I deserve. Your family rescued me and many others. I owe them my every breath and for that reason I do as they ask without question. My life forfeit. I have never sought material possessions, wealth, or status. I only ever craved peace. The elusive quietening of the madness that lives inside my head and my heart.

A mistake has been made. I have been bestowed a gift I do not deserve. I am not strong enough to return it. I gave my life to the Kosher Nostra, and yet, I feel as though you have given it back to me. The only peace I find is in your presence. Between your heartbeats. In the notes of your laughter.

I am in awe of the woman you have become. The strength of your character. The depths of your loyalty.

I was rescued years ago, but with you, I am saved.

Thank you for humoring a broken man and giving him a reason to continue.

I am most grateful for your birth. Not so much Tevye’s. But definitely yours.

Masud

P.S. I have given into thine hand Jericho…protect the city and the king thereof, my mighty woman of valor.

The Jericho 941 sits in my lap, my hands shaking as I reread Masud’s letter through unshed tears. That bastard! Making mefeel. He’s older than me by 8 years, though now that I’m legal, that hardly matters to me. He’s all but admitted to being in love with me, but knowing him as I do, he’ll fall on his sword and refuse me because of some misguided honor and self-loathing.

“AGHHHHHHH!” Well, we’ll just see about that. I carefully place the gorgeous gun on my bed and storm from our suite. Stalking through the halls of the family compound, I wave to my bodyguard and driver Ari.

“I need to go to the consortium.” He dips his chin, turns on his heel and opens the front door for me. I wait, stewing in my anger, while Ari retrieves a vehicle. The entire drive to the Mishpocheh Consortium, I vacillate between joy and anger, and excitement and concern.

No matter, Masud is mine. He’s just gonna have to accept that. I am hisomri, after all. “Oh, man up!” I snap at my chest. My heart goes pitter-patter over the nickname, and I want to vomit at my girliness. I’m just grateful no one is here to witness this.

At the consortium, I barge through the main doors and take the stairs down to the basement. Without knocking, I throw open the metal door to Masud’s “office”. He’s alone, thank God.

“You son of a bitch.” I bark. He stands up quickly, his eyes darting from left to right, his hands up in front of him. “You write me a letter like that and expect me to just…what? Date someone else? Fuck someone else?” He winces and it buoys me to know he doesn’t like that idea. “Marry someone else?” I’m breathing fast, my chest heaving. “Well, I’ve got some bad news for you, buddy. I don’t want anyone else. I want you.” I stomp my foot, my hands fisted. “I’m gonna have you. And that’s final.”

“Tova—”

“No. You call me omri.” A ghost of a smile crosses his handsome face and then it’s gone, replaced with a frown. “We can’t.”

“We can.” He sighs, dropping back to his chair, resting his elbows on his thighs, avoiding eye contact.

“Your family will kill me if they ever find out about that letter, let alone how I…what I think about…” He shakes his head, cutting himself off and switching gears. “I cannot be with you. As a boyfriend or husband should. I can’t…it hurts…I can’t.”

“Masud.” I call his name sternly, waiting for him to meet my eyes. “I don’t give a fuck about what a partner or spouse ‘should’ do. I care about you and me and whatever we decide is best for us.”

“You deserve someone who can…touch you.”

I wave off his comment, “I can touch myself. I do, actually, a lot. Thinking of you.” He nearly swallows his tongue and dammit, it’s adorable. 7-foot tall, violent interrogator, tongue-tied over little ol’ me.

I’m tired of this. “Do you love me?” His Adam’s apple moves in his throat, then he nods once. “If you love me, you want me to be happy?” He nods again. “Good. I love you. I want you to be happy…with me. The rest is details. We’ll figure it out.”

“God help me.”

“Oh honey,” I purr, drawing a finger down my chest between my large perky tits. “God can’t help you now.”

***********

“Yak. Back the fuck up.”

“The Kosher Nostra can protect him against his family.”

I pound my chest, and hiss, “I am his family. And no one fucking touches him.”