Page 45 of Danger Close (Mourningkill #3)

Stabbed In the Back

Teri

I sat silent and still, watching the events before me as though it were happening on a screen, or like a drama happening behind a store window.

I was on the outside, looking in. There was comfort in that. In observing my daughter, holding hands with a husband who, despite my reservations, adored her.

Each time she ran to speak to someone, a broad smile on her sweet lips, her husband clung to her hand, getting dragged along.

Young love. It was why people came to weddings, non?

To believe in love, and the hope that it can bring. To live in the illusion of it, even for just a moment. Weddings are the last time we get to truly believe in fairytales. That Happy Endings might exist.

“What are you thinking about?” I felt him cut into my thoughts like the sun burning off a malicious fog.

He placed his palm on the back of my neck and with gentle fingers, began to massage the muscles I did not know ached at the spot right above where my spine curved from my shoulders.

I moaned into his hand, shutting my eyes. “I’m thinking of nothing, now.”

“What were you thinking about?” he whispered.

“I was thinking…” I opened my eyes when his hands slowed their work, letting me come back from the momentary heaven he brought me to. “That I wish things had ended in the days after she was born.”

I watched as Trinity laughed when her groom twirled her under his arm, her long skirts floating about her as they gracelessly danced to a less-than-romantic tune.

“If I had been hit by a bus, or expired in some other way, I could have gone out with a happy ending. Married, in love, elated at the prospect of starting a family.” I missed the joy I had when we were pregnant.

Me with a large belly, looking down at nothing but hope. “I would not have lived this tragedy.”

I watched Trinity and wondered if I had passed on my unluckiness, my curse, to her. Would she be joyful for the rest of her days?

I wanted nothing but ordinary things for her: A family, with all its ups and downs. A home. A long, boring existence with as little drama and stress as possible.

But as my daughter jumped up and down, squealing, with Daria Savchenko, holding hands, as her husband wiped his face, loudly declaring, “I regret introducing them”, I realized that she was far too volatile and daring to ever be boring.

I had tried to push her that way, but she had a restless soul.

It took several, long minutes before I realized that Cobra’s hand had completely stilled.

I turned to look at him, and flinched. His eyes were the most aggrieved I’d ever seen. I cupped his cheek. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Life’s not over.” His voice broke with heaviness. “We still have a chance, Princess.”

I smiled. At least, I tried to. I said something that I did not believe, but hoped would give him comfort. “Yes, you’re right.”

He chuffed, shaking his head. “Don’t lie to me, Teri.”

The hand on my nape traced down to my lower back.

“I’m not a child. I’m not the young man with stars in his eyes, nuts about a beautiful girl.”

He leaned forward, tracing his lips against my temple.

“I’m an old man, staring at a beautiful woman.” He kissed my cheek, his lips gentle. “Trying to stitch his family together.”

We both looked at our daughter, who’d stopped dancing to look at us, her mouth slightly parted.

Her groom was talking to someone in a suit, probably one of his relations that I had been introduced to, but could not remember.

“She doesn’t look pleased,” I said, quietly.

“Kids, eh?” Cobra said with a smirk. “Let’s get out of here, Mama?”

I blushed, when he took my hand in his. I nodded, the lump in my throat unable to hide the swell of emotion that threatened to take over me.

Helping me to my feet, he led me over to Trinity.

“Hey kiddo,” he said, impervious to our child’s suspicious expression. “Your Mom and I are going to leave you and the young people to your celebration. I’m going to get her to bed.”

“You’re going together?” Trinity said, then her eyes turned to me. “Charlotte said you could stay in the farmhouse if you like.”

The implication was clear. If I did not want to stay with Cobra, I was welcome to return to the guest room.

Cobra pulled me into his side, his hand around my waist. “That’s nice of her. Maybe we’ll take her up on that, and save ourselves a drive.”

Cobra slipped his jacket off, then wrapped it around my shoulders. Trinity looked at him like he’d grown a second head. I stared down at the warm garment and tugged it closed around me, taking in his scent.

“I know it’s only a short walk,” he purred. “But I don’t want you to get cold.”

Our daughter looked between the two of us. So much disapproval in her pretty face.

“Uh, don’t forget the bridal party’s brunch tomorrow,” she said, slowly.

“Oh fuuuuck,” Cobra slapped his forehead. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I set up an appointment I can’t miss. Can I take a rain check, and take you for breakfast later? Just us?”

“Sure.” Distrust still colored her words.

“But your mom can go.” Cobra nudged me with his shoulder.

Appalled, I immediately said, “No, I don’t think that’s necessa—”

“Yeah, okay,” Trinity said, silencing me with a look as if I’d stabbed her in the back. “We’ll take the truck.”