Page 115 of Black Sheep

And that’s when I see it. The ripped flesh on his knuckles. The blood seeping from it, coating his hand.

His blood.

My father’s blood.

He pulls me into his body, wraps his arms tight around me.

Staining me with the blood.

“I love you.”

Then why? I want to scream.

So much emotion. Too much violence. So much…everything. The sob tears out of me without warning. The dam bursts and I can’t stop.

“Christ, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” Axel rains urgent kisses down my face, my neck, my mouth, his hoarse pleading doing nothing to stop the torrent and torment that gush out of me.

I faintly register when he picks me up and walks to the tub. The sound of powerful jets fills the room. Then he’s placing me in the warm, scented water. He slides in behind and cradles me in his arms.

My sobs subside when I have nothing more to give. Drained, I let him wash me. When he’s done, he just folds his arms around me, cocooning me in warmth.

In heaven and hell.

“I love you,” he whispers fervently in my ear, kissing my hair, my jaw.

My heart kicks. Hard. Wanting to break the last, monumental shackle holding it. Falling back down when it can’t.

And because I’m spent, because my world can’t get any more desolate, I lay my head on his shoulder.

An eternity later, we leave the bath. Dry and clean, we return to a bedroom that looks the same but also so much different.

Once again, he pulls me into his arms. Once again, I go. It’s where I fall asleep. Where I dream the dream of the damned.

Where I wake up to find his adoring eyes on me, his hands running down my body. Where I can express myself physically in a way I can’t with words. When he slides inside me, fresh tears fill my eyes.

He brushes them away with his thumbs. “It’s okay, baby. I know you can’t love me because of what I am. But I swear, if you can bear me to love you, to worship you, that’ll be enough for me.”

“Oh God…Axel.”

He places a soft kiss on my mouth. “Shh, just let me love you.”

And because I’m weak, because the love I shouldn’t feel for him burns just as strong, I let him.

* * *

One week slides into the next.

With the Bratva, the Armenians and the Albanians on board, it doesn’t take much more for Axel to gain support in his campaign to isolate Finnan from every ally he can rely on, on the mob side of things. With the help of his brothers, he manages to pull the wool over his father’s eyes. We remain on tenterhooks, knowing the hold won’t last. Finnan is too shrewd to be fooled for too long.

Twice, I go with Axel to meet with Finnan’s lawyers, and I’m stunned by his ability to calmly reassure and strategize while seething with deadly rage.

Even though Axel refused to let me into the room, I insisted on attending the meetings. I needed to see Finnan, to reassure myself that he believed I was playing the game too. Each time, his smugness reassured me that the ruse was working, that my mother was safe. For the time being.

But while Axel plots, I also make plans to move my mother. Now that I know the extent of Finnan’s sins at Taranahar, I know he’s preoccupied with saving his own skin. It’s not an easy decision, but I risk calling my father’s attorney and requesting the money I need to act when the times comes. Someday soon, Finnan will come face-to-face with the force of his son’s vengeance. I can’t afford for my mother to be caught in the crosshairs of their war.

Her doctors disagree with me, of course. Nevertheless, I quietly put them on standby and make arrangements with a private facility in Pennsylvania.

And I just…exist.

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