Page 116 of Wreck Me

'Cool. Enjoy.' Shane switches his attention to James. 'Take care of her.'

'I always do.' James hesitates for a split second then extends a hand 'Congratulations on your degree.'

Shane’s blue eyes light up. 'Thanks.'

'See you around.' I raise my hand to wave as James nudges me away.

'You won’t,' he mutters into my ear.

I roll my eyes. 'It’s nice to be nice. Look at you, shaking his hand. You’re getting soft in your old age.'

Suddenly, I’m pinned against a corridor wall by a powerful set of hips with my wrists pinned above my head. 'Is that any way to speak to your fiancé?' James’s thumbs trace over my pulse points and my veins flood with a searing heat. 'Does that feel soft to you?' He thrusts between my legs, and my skin flushes with arousal.

'Take me home,' I beg, 'to our bedroom, not the party.'

His lips curve upwards as he releases his grip on my wrists and slips his arms around my waist instead. 'We have somewhere we need to go first.'

'Where?'

'You’ll see.' He takes me by the hand and leads me outside. The humidity is unusually high with the sun stuck behind heavy, low-hanging clouds.

Tim is waiting outside. 'Home?' he asks, opening the car door.

'St. Mary’s cemetery first.' James’s tone is sombre.

'St. Mary’s?' I repeat.

'I thought you might like to pay your mother a visit.' He shifts from one foot to the other. 'If you want to, that is,' he adds with some uncertainty. It’s the first time since we’ve met that I recall him looking uncertain about anything.

'Of course I want to. It’s one of the most thoughtful suggestions ever.' I slide into the back of the car, and he slips in beside me. He takes my hand in his and squeezes it tightly.

We arrive at the cemetery twenty minutes later. I dread to think what kind of state my mother’s headstone is in, but now the O'Connors have been taken care of, I can visit more often and maintain it better.

Tim slows to a stop at the wrought-iron gates. 'Do youwant me to accompany you?' he asks with a respectful bow of his head.

'We’re fine, thank you.' James motions for Tim to get back in the car.

We stroll through the weaving, overgrown pathway in silence until we reach the far end of the grounds. I stop still in my tracks as I see my mother’s headstone ahead. The original drab grey headstone has been replaced with white marble and is overflowing with yellow and orange tulips.

My eyes fill with tears as I crouch to the floor, placing my palm on the cold stone. 'You did this?'

'Of course.' James kneels next to me. 'I wanted to pay homage to the woman who brought you into this world. We can come as often as you like. It’s safe now,' James says quietly. Declan and Jack are still behind bars, and the rest of the O'Connor brothers have fled the country. I can visit my mother in peace, without looking over my shoulder.

'Thank you.' It’s the best graduation gift ever.

The clouds drift apart and the brightest blue cracks of sky appear overhead. My eyelids flutter closed and I tilt my chin upwards. The sun appears bright and strong and kisses my face with a comforting warmth, and I just know she’s watching over us.

We sit on the grass, me between James's legs, my back resting on his chest, until our backsides go numb and our stomachs rumble.

I twist my head to glance at James, admiring the way the sunlight glints in his glossy dark hair. 'We have a party to go to.'

'We sure do.' He stands, dusts the grass from his suit trousers, and helps me to my feet. On the few occasions I’ve dared to visit before, I’ve been smothered with a sense of sadness, but not today. Now I know I can come back anytime. Now I have James.

I kiss my fingertips and touch them to the marble. 'We’ll visit again soon, Mam.'

James and I leave the cemetery, with our fingers entwined. We don’t speak. We don’t need to.

When we get back to the house, the party is in full swing. The pool area is decked out in giant rose gold balloons. A DJ has set up by the pool, and the soft beats of tropical house music pulsate through the air. Waitresses circulate with exotic, fruity cocktails and bottles of Bollinger.

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