Page 105 of Dirty Hearts
“This is my chance.” I wrenched myself free and pointed my guns at them.
Both of them looked at me, with their hands down at their sides but palms up and out to show me they would never reach for their weapons against me.
“You know he’s here. We know where to find him now. Let’s do it properly.” Gio nodded. “You can’t hit him from here, and if you charge down guns blazing, you’re dead. Us too, because we won’t just stand here and let them kill you.”
My shoulders slumped. I whirled around to face the scene before me. Goliath was laughing as he talked it up with Freddo.
They walked into the biggest cabin.
Goliath, the killer I’d been looking for, for the last seven years just walked into a cabin, and I allowed him to.
Chapter 26
Claudius
* * *
Seven years ago…
It was that tension in the air that woke me, and I realized Marissa wasn’t next to me.
Again.
Last night, I’d found her downstairs watching TV. She was watching some documentary about the Ottoman Empire. I hated history, but I sat and watched it with her. The night before, I’d found her in the nursery just looking at the crib. Neither of us had had the heart to change the room or just…
I didn’t even know. The two of us had been like this for the last eight months.
People said time healed. I was waiting for that part to happen, because every day held its own new task.
Marissa’s depression had only gotten worse, and I was still stuck on what I could do to help her. It was hard when I felt like shit myself. The only thing that kept me occupied was this thing with Joe Manello. It didn’t take up enough time to distract me, but I did wonder what the hell kind of plans he had that took eight months of planning.
I wasn’t given any specific details of the grand plan, just my part. It suited me fine since all I wanted was the distraction. I knew well enough that in the underground you didn’t ask too many questions. If you had a job like mine, you did what you’re told. You got the intel you were supposed to have and anything else was on a need to know basis.
Besides, Joe and his men didn’t give me the sympathetic look everyone else had. Luc, Pa, and even Raphael. I didn’t want sympathy. I just wanted to get on with life as best as possible.
Marissa sat on the window bay seat, gazing out to the shadowy outline of the trees swaying in the storm. In her hand was a single white rose from the bunch of flowers I’d bought earlier and left for her in the sitting room.
When we first got married, she told me she liked having flowers in the house. Apparently, her grandmother believed it attracted good luck. Back then I really didn’t care to know what she liked or didn’t like. I didn’t want to know. In my head I’d already taken time to know Ava because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her and the damn universe dealt me a rough deal by twisting things up in worst way.
I couldn’t get past the fact that I’d ended up with Marissa. The woman who tricked me into sleeping with her and got pregnant with my child. I’d resigned myself to talking to her only when I needed to, and doing my best to look happy when we were around other people. In my silence she’d offered small talk to ease thehorribleawkward situation.
She’d stopped buying flowers after we lost our baby, but I continued to get her favorite ones. At first the gesture was lost on her, then she started responding. More so when I bought white roses. She’d always take a single one and keep it with her.
I glanced at the clock on the wall and barely made out that it was three a.m.
This was the time we’d been waking up over all the last few months.
She looked over at me when I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear. Then she looked away, back to the dance of trees outside the window.
I made my way over to her and rested my hand on top of her head.
She returned her gaze to me, and I noticed the sunken, sallow skin under her eyes. She’d been crying again.
“I’m sorry,” she said just above a whisper. “With these continuous three-a.m. wakeups, you’ll leave soon.”
I frowned. She always found some way to sneak that in. Her fear of me leaving. I’d been with herfor herfor eight months. Eight months of being a husband, not because she was carrying my child.
If I was honest, I’d have to say that I’d even surprised myself. I’d stayed, and I’d learned to love her. It wasn’t the kind of love I had with Ava, but I was trying. I was here, and I was trying.
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