Page 36 of Corrupt Desires

Emilia’s head turns back toward me. “Shhh, James. Everything… Everything is going to be fine.”

I see the tears welling up in her eyes though, and so I try to give her a small smile, anything to try to prevent those tears from falling along her beautiful face.

Distantly, I hear sirens getting louder, my vision fades in and out. The last thing I see before I close my eyes is the most gorgeous angel I’ve ever seen in my life.

I guess I do get to die a happy man, after all.

Twenty-Five

Emilia

Two weeks later

As I make my way through the house that is now mine, I run my hands along the furniture as I remember all the memories this place has held for me.

Not a single day goes by that I don’t think about them.

Fearing I may start crying again, I go into my bedroom and start packing more of my clothes. It isn’t right, what happened to them. I feel a cold, hard anger building inside of me. Unable to stop the feeling as it crashes over me, I double over, the pain centered in my gut as I let it run through me.

The small house that once held Matteo and Lorenzo seems to close around me. At one point, this home felt large to me. Now, it seems so small compared to James’s home… My home.

Matty and Lorenzo deserved so much more, and one day I will ensure they are avenged.

Gathering my items, I make my way to the front door, where Kayden’s men, Donovan and Aleks, are waiting for me. I can’t go anywhere these days without a security detail. Not that I am against it, it’s just suffocating sometimes. Taking one last look at the place I once called home, I head out the door, one man in front of me and the other behind.

We drive in silence for what feels like forever before pulling up to a large hospital. James has been here the last two weeks, recovering from the bullet wound he suffered at the hand of the Romanis. He was lucky; the bullet just barely missed his main artery. The doctors had to give him a transfusion to stabilize him as they worked on removing the bullet lodged in his body.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not angry at myself for letting him get shot. I’ve spent the majority of my time at his bedside, staying close in case he needs anything. Damn the man for trying to play hero, though. I remember the fear that clogged my throat when I thought we were losing him. There had been so much blood; it plagues my dreams every time I fall asleep. And every night I jump awake in a cold sweat from a nightmare where James didn’t make it. If that’s not a reality check, I don’t know what is. This man that I’ve spent the last seven years hating, has suddenly become someone that I can’t imagine losing.

The vehicle stops and I’m jarred from my thoughts. Aleks opens my door, and I take his offered hand, stepping out of the shiny, black SUV to make our way into the hospital. As we head indoors, Aleks stays at my side while Donovan takes the rear, both of their heads on a constant swivel scanning for danger. We stop at the front desk to check in and get our name tags before heading over to the elevator.

The hospital has always been a place that unsettles me. People sick and dying. I’ve never felt joy being here. So much despair makes me say a prayer to the great man above in hopes that death does not come looking for me today.

Reaching James’s floor, I take the lead and start walking toward his room down the hall. The nurses are all bustling up and down the hallway, entering and exiting rooms, some with food trays, some with cups of medicine. They work damn hard, and I’m so grateful for all the medical staff that had a hand in saving James’s life.

As we walk down the hall, I can see James’s nurse sitting at the nurse’s station, and I give a small wave as I pass him by. James hates the fact that he has a male nurse. No, not because it’s a woman’s job, but because the man is actually good looking and hit on me the first day that James was here. I decided then and there that jealousy looks good on him. The heat and the dark promise that sparks in his eyes is enough to leave me wishing we were home already.

“Good morning, James,” I say as I walk into his room, placing my things on the table before going to his side and sitting up on the bed with him.

“Morning, love.”

“Guess what I heard?!”

“Hmmm, what could that be?”

“Well, a little birdy told me you get out today.”

“Is that so?” he asks playfully, grabbing my chin between his thumb and finger before pulling me down into a kiss.

I know James is just as happy to get out of here as I am; there is only so much coddling this man can handle. I admit though, I’ve been part of that, too. I spent most nights here at the hospital in the beginning, mainly because James would often jolt awake from nightmares, a cold sweat upon his skin and his eyes wild with fear. I would reassure him that I was here, holding him close. Reassured that I was near, he would go back to sleep, but it was always restless, murmuring my name in his sleep and tossing his head back and forth. I can’t even imagine the nightmares he has as he won’t talk about it.

About a week ago, his doctor prescribed a sleep aid due to his PTSD, which really knocks him on his ass, keeping the nightmares at bay. For now, I’ve been sleeping at our house, never left alone as Aleks and Donovan have taken up in the spare bedrooms in the house. James was furious about the idea, but at the end of the day, he’d rather I be kept safe than not.

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of activity, though. Between being here at the hospital with James and then meeting with Kayden and Franklin to come up with a game plan, I’m mentally spent. We figured out that Anthony is selling the women that come into his home to the highest bidder, and god knows what happens to them once they are sold. But it explains the deposits into his parents’ accounts; Anthony seems to be keeping them afloat with his trafficking money.

It complicates things for us, though. We initially thought that we could somehow rig their estate to be bombed much in the same sense they did my home, but with all the women in there, we had no choice but to scrap that idea. We have been back at square one for the past few days.

“Emilia, where did you go?” asks James, who tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before running his finger down my cheek.

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