Page 42 of Accidentally Mine

Roselynn

E ven after Anthony and his father dropped their guns and were herded into the back of police cars by the cops, and the coroner came to deal with Steve, it took me a while to accept that what had been my reality for so many years was now, finally, over.

I sat on the steps of the trailer, watching as the police took the Markins away.

I overheard Brent’s police friend, Kyle, telling Brent that they wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.

Even his connections would have trouble getting to Anthony now, considering the rap sheet that had been compiled against him.

And there was talk that without Malcolm around, the entire outfit would likely collapse.

Their family run mafia would be no more.

And yet, Anthony’s sick stare stayed on me as the police car pulled away. It haunted me long after he left.

I shivered as I realized that it was only that, just a stare. He couldn’t hurt me anymore.

I was free.

Wrapping the scratchy wool blanket an officer had given me around my body, I watched as the paramedics led Claudia out of the trailer and onto a stretcher, feeling guilty even though they’d said she probably just had a small concussion and was going in for safety’s sake.

Brent squeezed her hand as she was wheeled into the ambulance, then sat next to me on the stairs, his strong arm wrapping around me.

He kissed my temple. “You going to be okay?”

I knew he was worried. I’d barely said a word. But now it was time. Time to tell him everything. “I’m so sorry, Brent,” I murmured. “I never meant for you or Claudia to get embroiled in this. I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”

He hooked a finger under my chin, lifting my face up to him, and kissed me. “I already know.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You do? Everything?”

“Yeah. That you were running from Anthony the night of the accident. That you came back to settle your dad’s affairs and stayed longer than you should have to take care of your aunt, even though you knew you’d be wanted by the police and sought by the Markin family. And that was why you couldn’t stay.”

I sniffled, still unable to believe everything that had happened.

“I found out that my father’s business partner had my dad murdered because he was working for the Markins.

He lured me back. And Anthony wanted to keep me, like a prisoner.

He…” I covered my face with my hands as thoughts of what could’ve happened intruded.

“But it’s no excuse for what I did. I endangered innocent lives. Your life. Claudia’s.”

Brent stood up and reached for my hand. “It’s okay now.”

Tears flooded my eyes as he helped me stand and lifted my hands to his mouth, kissing my fingers so gently. My heart fluttered with something it hadn’t felt in years. Hope.

As he was kissing me, a group of kids arrived on the sidewalk riding bikes and started waving and cheering at us.

“We have an audience,” I said, motioning my chin toward them.

He looked up and smiled.

“Hey!” a little boy said. “That your girl?”

He nodded. “Yep. This is my girl.”

His girl. I liked that. Belonging to someone who I knew would never hurt me. Just the words buoyed my spirits. I suddenly felt stronger. I waved at the kids as he wrapped his arms around me.

I turned to him and said, “I know I’ll have to pay for what I did, leaving the scene of the accident. And I’m ready to face whatever consequences I need to.”

It was the feeling of being loved, of belonging, that calmed me even as Kyle came forward and read me my rights, cuffed me, and put me in the back of his squad car. Even in that uncomfortable position, I looked out the window at Brent. He never took his eyes off me, even as the car pulled away.

I spent two nights in jail and was arraigned Monday morning.

Brent bailed me out that afternoon, but because I was determined to be a flight risk, I was fitted with an ankle monitor to make sure that I didn’t cross city lines.

It was humbling, walking out of the courthouse with that thing attached to my ankle.

I was wearing a skirt and it felt like everyone could see my sins and were thinking the worst of me.

I felt like a criminal, and I supposed I was one.

But I’d live with it. The only opinion that mattered to me was that of the man next to me.

We were quiet as he walked with me down the stairs. When I got into his little sportscar—much to my surprise, since I thought Ernest would be driving—he said, “How far can you go with that thing?”

I wasn’t on house arrest, just unable to leave the GPS enforced boundary the ankle monitor determined. “I can’t leave the city.”

“The whole city of Boston?” he asked. “Good, then you’re coming home with me.”

I didn’t object. In fact, there was nowhere else in the whole world I’d rather have gone. “When did you start driving again?”

“The day the monster was taken out of the closet. We all have to overcome our fears sometime, right?”

Brent drove straight into the garage connected to his brownstone, and he walked me straight up to the floor where his master bedroom and bath were.

He pressed his lips to my forehead. “I’m sure you want to freshen up.”

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Bath?” he asked.

I sighed at the very thought. “That would be amazing.”

He opened up the double doors to his extravagant master bath with the huge tub—big enough to be a swimming pool—in front of a picture window overlooking the gardens. The city was slowly descending into night. The lights of the buildings around the Common were beginning to pop on.

He knelt in front of it, turning on the water for me. I stood in the door, watching as he swirled his hand in the water to check the temperature. “That thing at least water resistant?” he said.

I looked down at the ankle monitor and frowned. The little reminder of my biggest shame. As if I could ever forget. “I sure hope so. I don’t want to…I don’t know, electrocute myself.”

He came over to me, enveloping my cheeks in both hands, kissed my forehead, and said, “Hey. It’s okay.”

I nodded. Being out on bail for a crime was awesome compared to where I could’ve been.

I suppressed a shudder, thinking of what Anthony would’ve done to me had Brent not gotten the police to the trailer and burst through the door.

Right now, I could’ve been in Anthony’s home.

His prisoner. Or in the coroner’s office, destined for the grave.

Instead, I was staring into the eyes of the man I was falling in love with, who showed me that I came first in every little thing he did.

I pointed to the picture window. “Are you an exhibitionist?”

Releasing me, he pressed a button on the wall that made the blinds slide closed, then motioned me forward, to an electric panel beside the tub.

“You can press this button if you want to open the blinds once you’re in the tub.

This one starts the whirlpool action. Press this one to adjust the jets.

This button controls the heat. This one starts a fan.

And this one dims the lights in the room. ”

I stared at it, only half-listening. I wouldn’t use any of those. “Which one launches it into space?”

He laughed, then adjusted the lighting, turning off the lights except for two sconces, which glowed with an almost real looking orange flicker of candlelight. It was so relaxing, I yawned.

He went to the door, opened it, and said, “Good?”

I nodded. “Amazing,” I murmured. How did a criminal such as myself deserve such treatment?

He reached out and tweaked my side. “Take your time. As long as you want. Holler if you need anything.”

Him. I needed him. I imagined myself sliding into the tub across from him, into the sea of bubbles that was rapidly piling up. I would rest my bare feet on his big, broad chest as he stroked my legs under the water, those callused fingers teasing their way up my body.

But I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to stay.

Besides, we’d been through so much in the last two days. He was probably exhausted, and I let him go when he stepped out into the hall and closed the door.

Now, at least, I would have more time with him. More time to get to know him, to ease into this. Whatever it was.

At least, until sentencing, when I might be taken away from him for who knew how long.

Unzipping my dress, I let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. I pulled off my underwear and turned to look at myself in the mirror. The bruises on my legs and arms, from where Anthony had manhandled me, were popping out—a nasty dark purplish-black color.

I smiled when I realized they would be the last bruises I ever sustained at Anthony Markin’s hands.

I turned off the water, stepped inside the tub with one leg and lowered myself in, propping the leg with extra jewelry on the edge of the tub.

Scooping water over my body, I found soap, lathered, and washed.

I dunked my head, scrubbed shampoo through it, and rinsed Anthony’s touch from my body forever.

When I finally felt clean, I laid back against the smooth porcelain, took a washcloth from the edge of the tub, and draped it over my eyes.

It felt good to finally relax. I could finally breathe. I let my knee fall to the side of the tub as I sank deeper into the water, fully intending to do just as Brent had commanded and stay in there until I turned into a prune.

But the second I got comfortable, it hit me.

We had time now, but I didn’t want to waste it. I didn’t know how much more I’d be given.

Suddenly, I didn’t just want Brent. I needed him there, with me, right now.

“Brent!” I cried, sitting up.

A second later, he burst through the door, looking for the fire. “Are you okay?”

I looked up at him, suddenly shy. “I just…” I lifted the washcloth, “don’t have anyone to wash my back.”

The corners of his mouth curved up into a smile. “Hmm. I can probably help with that.”