Page 25 of Mine to Love
It’s the same system we use at The Compound, which has proven helpful for keeping up with things. And, in the case of an invasion, it keeps our weapons from being used against us.
Darcy sighs and crosses her arms. “I mean, that’s smart and good to know,” she admits. “But still?—”
“You’d rather them be out of her eyesight,” I say, cutting her off.
“And mine.I’m not really a gun person.”
I let out a devious laugh. “Well, we’ll have to work on that.” I’m joking, of course. If my woman has to use a gun to protect herself, then I have failed her, same as I did— I let that thought die before finishing it. Regardless of what I am to Darcy or what she is to me, I don’t want her to carry the burden of protecting herself. That feeling comes from a place of fear or a lack of trust in me to do my job. Neither of which I ever want her to experience. A woman should just be able to be a woman. I’ll be the shield that stands between her and every foe.
“Unlikely,” she says then, unimpressed with my remark.
“I’m just messing with you, angel. Consider it done. Although we probably should get you an account set up within the security system.”Now that I sense she won’t run away.
“Th…thank you,” Darcy says with a slight stutter. I presume she’s surprised by my nickname for her. Though, now that I think of it, it’s the same stutter she had this morning during our exchange in the kitchen. I can’t remember saying anything to warrant it. In fact, I’m sure it began with hergood morning. Hmm. Maybe she was more surprised by my appearance than my words. I guess that’s good to know. Maybe all hope isn’t lost. Though, I still feel guilty for wanting such things, both because of her and Cara. The Cara part goes without saying. But Darcy is healing from an incredibly abusive relationship. It’s not fair of me to have expectations for her or us. And I don’t. But maybe hope isn’t healthy either. I don’t know.
“And, um, thank you for this morning,” Darcy continues. “For catching me and talking me out of a spiral when I was worried about Delilah. And you were right. Delilah needed both of us. I really appreciate you taking the time to show her what a kind man looks and acts like. Thank you for taking the time for us both.”
“Of course.”
Darcy heads back to the sofa then, uncrossing her arms as she walks. I join her, returning to my end. Darcy reaches for her tea and takes a few sips. Then, turning to face me, she continues.
“I’m still worried about her. I mean, she’s five. She shouldn’t have these fears. A game of hide-and-seek shouldn’t have an alternate meaning. She shouldn’t have seen the things she did or heard them.” She shakes her head and lowers her gaze to her lap where she picks at her cuticles. As she does, she doesn’t pay much mind to her injured finger, which draws my concern.
“I’m worried she’ll never recover, that she’ll never forget.” Darcy pauses, but I can tell she isn’t finished, so I sit quietly and continue to listen, all the while watching her fingers fidget. After a moment, she says, “Maybe I’m worried about me too. Maybe I’m worried that I’ll never recover, that I’ll never forget.” It’s then that Darcy picks a little too aggressively for my comfort. I scoot toward her and take her hands in mine. Gently, I rub my thumbs over her soft skin to soothe her. “Gio,” Darcy whispers. I shake my head, my focus solely on her hands. My dismissal has her letting out a sigh and giving in to my caress.
“We have to be careful with these fingers,” I say softly. “Give your wound time to heal without tearing at the scab that’s forming.” I lift my eyes to meet her gaze head-on. Our proximity is so close my leg touches hers and our lips are only inches apart. With the way the rain beats against the glass windows, it’s a good thing or else she may not hear me. “Perhaps the same can be said for the wounds on your brain and heart. You’ve only just starting healing, Darcy. Give it time. Give Delilah time too. I mean, what do you remember from five-years-old? Probably not much. What happens next is more important.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Darcy says then. Her eyes gloss over as she appears lost in thought. “I mean, my mom died when I was six and I barely remember her. Somehow, that acknowledgment is both comforting and heartbreaking. Maybe Delilah won’tremember. But how close did she come to losing all her memories of me? How many times was I almost taken from her? How many times?” Darcy repeats as emotion tightens her cheeks. She looks at me as tears fill her eyes. “And, even if there is a chance for her, I’m not five-years-old, Gio.” She shakes her head and lowers her gaze. “I will remember it all.”
Darcy breaks. Tears pour from her freely, dripping down her cheeks. There’s an ache in my chest seeing her in such pain. Releasing her hands, I wrap my arms around her and pull her onto my lap. To my surprise, she doesn’t fight me. Straddling me, she lays her chest against mine and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face in the crook.
Her tears are cold on my hot skin, cold as the ice in my veins the moment I finally find out who the sick son-of-a-bitch is who hurt her, who hurt them both. It’ll happen. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not this month. Hell, maybe not even this year. But one of these days, she will tell me, and I will make it my life’s mission to destroy him. These thoughts, I bury, as I hold her.
Gently, I rub my hand up and down her back as she cries. Pinching my eyes closed, I imagine our hearts tethering together with invisible strings so that I may absorb all her pain. The way her chest presses against mine, it feels as if we could meld together and become one. I open my eyes then and say, “You are also not hopeless. You are strong. You are smart. You are safe. You are healthy. You are…beautiful.” I can’t keep the word from escaping me even though I know it may make her feel uneasy, especially given our position. But she deserves to hear it. “And you won’t be haunted forever, Darcy. There will come a day when you find yourself happy. And you will have the lifeandthe love that you have always deserved. You will have your second chance.”
Darcy coughs. I know it’s just because she’s been crying so hard. Saliva has probably pooled at the back of her throat. Shepulls back then and looks at me. Still positioned on my lap with a wet face and red eyes, she asks, “How do you know?”
I smile softly and bring one of my hands to her cheek. Gently, I wipe away the remnants of her tears and, taking advantage of our intimate position, brush her hair behind her ears. She looks so innocent, so delicate, so fragile. Everything in me wants to protect her, heal her, love her.
“Because, angel,” I answer. “Anything less would be a crime against humanity.”
She smiles while fighting back more tears. Her forehead wrinkles and her lip quivers as she does. “And what about you?” she asks, her voice cracking. I can tell she’s just trying to get the attention off her. And that’s fine. Hopefully, my words have offered some comfort. Hopefully, she’ll find it in herself to believe them. “Are you happy, Gio? Or are you waiting for your second chance?”
Now, it’s my turn to smile. Lowering my hands from her back to her hips, taking in the moment, the emotions of it, and how her body feels in my grasp, I say, “I’m waiting for my first chance, my first love. Though I’m not sure I deserve her.” My eyes flick from hers to her lips and back up again. “But, at this very moment, sitting here with you, I am quite content.”
Darcy nods. I can see her coming back to herself after giving in to her emotions. “I am too,” she whispers. Though, as she assesses our position, I see her sense of calm leave her. “Oh, oh, no. I’m sorry.” She scrambles off me and I instantly feel empty without her. Standing, she says, “I was probably crushing you.”
“What?” Her statement draws my surprise. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I’m—” She waves her hands at her body with no further explanation.
“Utterly perfect,” I offer to finish her sentence for her.
“Stop.” She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been nice enough for one evening. You don’t have to keep trying to make me feel better.”
“Darcy, I’m not trying to do anything other than tell you the truth.” I stand and instantly feel better being close to her. “Do you not know how gorgeous you are?” I keep the more explicit descriptors to myself. Darcy is quiet. Though her cheeks blush bright red. “Okay, well, we’ll have to work on that. And, this time, I’m not joking. But, for now, it’s time to get you to bed. May I escort you to your room?” I offer her my bicep in formal fashion. Perhaps it’s cheesy, but I’m not ready to part from her, not ready to be without her touch. Still, I know she needs her rest.
Darcy lets out a sigh but takes my arm anyhow.Good girl.
