Page 62 of Penance

I raise a brow at her, “this is oursafe place?” I deadpan, thoroughly unimpressed. “The coded location meant here?” I pull a face of confusion.

She chuckles, shrugging her jacket off and swiping our room key.

“‘The Welsh dragon battles for honour’,” I murmur Frank’s message.

“Yes, Cadogan is Welsh,” she grins at me, the door clicking. “Not every safehouse is a grimy old basement,” she shrugs, pressing the handle down and pushing the door wide with her shoulder. “Now you know one of my secrets, you owe me one of yours,” she taunts, winking salaciously before entering the room.

I rush forward, catching the heavy door and following her inside. Warm wood and beige walls, a pale grey runner lining the entrance. I feel so fucking out of place, everything’s just so,posh. I walk through a living room, a lit fire crackling softly behind a grate, plush cream sofas surrounding it. Plum coloured throw cushions and soft beige blankets covering them. I follow the sound of Lala’s boots being toed off, anoomphfrom her lungs. I pass the large dining area, and another sitting room before I reach the bedroom.

Similar colouring as the rest of the penthouse, the lights dimmed. Clothing bags, I assume are ours, hang in an open walk-in wardrobe. Lala lies on the huge bed in the middle, a carved wooden headboard against the far wall, covered in crisp white sheets. Her arm thrown over her eyes, legs crossed at the ankles. Her halo of silver hair fanning out across the wide display of throw pillows. She looks tiny, swallowed up in the centre of the mattress. Everything around her perfectly placed, an angel floating on a cloud.

“Do you think we could get away with just sleeping, Maxi?” she murmurs, sensing me in the shadowed room with her.

“Well, I’m not wearing a suit,” I grunt in response.

Knowing that in a place like this, formalwear is the only acceptable attire to wander around in. The childlike giggle that explodes out of her throat has me blanching, the familiarity of it a haunting reminder of what was.

“You soare,” she teases, knowing I will wear one, I just would really rather not. “Just come lie with me for a minute,” she mumbles. “We’ve had a trying day,” she laughs lightly but it’s a heavy sound.

I hesitate, rocking on the balls of my feet. Unsure where to place myself. Dramatically dropping her arm onto the feather pillows above her head, she sighs.

“For fuck’s sake, Max, get over here, I don’t bite!”

“Oh, but you do, little demon,” I murmur under my breath, staring at my boots as I kick them off.

Wondering what the hell I’m doing, I walk around the bed, she lazily watches my approach. Her too-large eyes tracking my every movement like the predator I know she is. Only I’m not prey, I’m a predator too. The way she’s looking at me with intrigue has my cock hardening in my jeans, I will it to go down. That look though, she either wants to rip my throat out or have me mount her like a wild beast. Bruise her skin, my jaws locked on the back of her neck, rutting into her with wild abandon. Without thinking anymore into it, I throw myself onto the mattress beside her. Her laughter rings out into the room as throw pillows jump from the bed. A smile curves my lips as I look over at her, our faces turned toward each other.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?” I frown.

“Keeping me safe.”

“Lala, I-”

“No, you did, and I’m grateful,” she swallows, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “And I’m sorry, for being a mess. You probably won’t believe me when I say this because I feel like all you’ve seen of me as a woman is my breakdowns,” she laughs lightly, but it’s not real.

It’s a false noise, something meant to comfort me.

“But I’m not usually like that.” She glances away from me, she swallows, looking back. “Emotional, I mean. It just seems a lot’s been happening lately and I’m not too stubborn to admit, it’s a lot, and I’m struggling.” She shrugs, smiling sadly at me.

I turn onto my side, palms pressed together beneath my cheek, her twisting to mirror my new position.

“You never have to apologise to me, Lala,” I tell her honestly.

“Oh, but I do, Maddox Sharpe,” she smiles.

Her eyes tracing the line of my lips, before blinking back up at me.

“If only for selfish reasons.”

I hear what she doesn’t say,I need you to accept it.I don’t need or want an apology from her, but like she would for me, I accept it, knowing it’s for her.

For whatever reason, I nod, my eyes tightening as I flex my jaw.

Her eyes slip closed. We lie in comfortable silence for a few minutes, allowing me a minute to just look at her, able to stare without anyone watching me watching her.

My breath catches in my throat as her eyes suddenly pop open. Lala’s eyes are so fucking expressive, always were, we could have an entire conversation with them, no words need be spoken, but not tonight. Tonight I need to finally use my fucking words. I swallow down the lump in my throat, licking my suddenly dry lips. Heaving in a steadying breath I look at her,fuck, she’s so fucking beautiful.

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