Page 77 of Heaven Help Me

“Damn you, ciuccio.”

I smile down at her, pulling her knee up to her chest. “I’ll have you screaming my name in a minute, baby. But I want to look at you when you do.”

I slide inside of her heat, the sensation of becoming one with her body something I’ll never get used to. She feels like this house, this town, is finally my home. She’s the missing piece I didn’t know I was looking for.

She tightens around me again almost instantly. Her curses switch to declarations of love, a switch that feels like finally scratching an itch I couldn’t reach. I slow my thrusts, watching every nuance of her expressions, storing them all in my mind. When she rolls her head back, neck arched to the ceiling, a desperate cry leaving her lips, I drop down onto her, my full weight pressing her into the bed. I grind my hips one last time, needing to be as close to her as I can possibly be. My own orgasm takes over like the rolling of an ocean wave that sucks you under.

My lips form a promise that gets etched into the skin of her neck.

“My first, my last.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Valentina

This last month has been like something from a dream. Except I never dreamed of anything this good. Didn’t know peace like this was even attainable.

Believe me, Deuce and I still fight like cats and dogs. He rolls his eyes, I brandish my knife. He uses that Southern drawl to grate at my nerves and I break out my latest insults. The peace I feel is not because we get along every moment of every day, but because Deuce has created a home here in Heaven with me that finally feels safe.

I thought safety meant bodyguards outside my door and the most expensive security system wired into my condo. Come to find out, real safety is having friends and family around you who will ride out at literal dawn to flower anyone who is being mean to you. Real safety is a man who accepts every single one of my rough edges, and instead of trying to change me, he gets turned on by my spiciness. Real safety is finding purpose that brings happiness to others and weaves you into the fabric of your town.

“All right, ladies. Let’s put the knives down and practice a little hand-to-hand combat.”

Ten women who’ve signed up for my inaugural self-defense class put their knives down on a six-foot table just the way I taught them last week. Birdie, dressed in an all-black pant set that I think she believes is supposed to make her look tough, shoots me a wink. She’s the reason I’m leading this class. She approached me the day after Bettina left town, asking if I’d put something together for her and a few of her best friends. Turned out to be ten women and a wait list for the next cohort. But I’m nothing if not ambitious.

“Most people who attack will do so from behind. The biggest lesson we need to learn here is not to do what your body naturally wants to do in these situations which is freeze.”

I turn in a semicircle, locking gazes with each woman. They span from eighty years old to twenty. Some are in workout gear, a few are in shorts and a T-shirt, while one woman is in a dress. And yes, it’s floral. The thing is, someone who means you harm won’t attack when you’re dressed for it. They won’t wait until you’re ready for them. They seek out vulnerabilities and I don’t want these women to have any obvious ones. Not on my watch.

“We practice so that when the time comes, we’re ready.”

“Have you ever been attacked from behind?” one woman asks.

I nod, unsure how much detail they really want. “Yes, I have. Just recently, in fact.” I try to push Fazio and his betrayal out of my mind. I’m no longer part of that world. “You’ll have mere seconds to react. There’s no time to worry about your dress getting dirty or if anyone will hear you cursing up a storm. You’re in a fight for your life, so act like it. Pull out all the stops.”

I demonstrate a simple grab from behind, using Birdie as my example. “Now slam your heel down on my toe, while simultaneously elbowing me in the gut.”

Birdie taps my toe so lightly it feels like a butterfly landing. Her gut punch makes me ticklish.

“That’s adorable. And you’re dead.” I grab her harder around the waist. She grunts as the air gets pushed out of her lungs. “Now don’t waste my time. Do it for real.”

“Oh, you’re asking for it now, child.” Birdie stomps on my foot and whacks me with all her might in the gut. My hold on her loosens as pain shoots up all the way up to my skull. She twists around and out of my hold, backing away with her hands up.

I double over, hands on my knees while I try to suck in some oxygen. Damn, the old lady knocked the air out of me. Takes me a second to speak. “Good job. Perfect execution.”

Birdie beams and the ladies around her congratulate her. We take turns beating the crap out of each other in the name of self-defense until Deuce flies into the community center, all long lean muscles in a pair of linen pants and a button-down shirt.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but class was over ten minutes ago and I have plans for my woman.”

The ladies all simper and fawn over Deuce. He flirts right back, but never takes his eyes off me. I hold this warm fuzzy feeling close to my chest while I clean up the room. That’s the thing about safety. Once you truly feel it for the first time, you instinctually know it’s precious. You’ll fight to defend it, to keep it tucked around you and your loved ones like an impenetrable blanket.

Deuce waits patiently for me, leaning his shoulders against the far wall, his green eyes sparkling with mischief and promises as he watches me move about. Once the last of my class leaves, he shortens the distance. I get a whiff of his cologne and it creates a visceral yearning to be curled up on the couch with him in his old rambling Victorian while we watch a show together. We’ll get distracted at some point and the trail of our clothes will point the way to the bedroom. It’s a good life we have, and I will fight to the death to keep it. Again.

His hands land on my hips and all other thoughts are whisked away. “I have a special surprise weekend planned for you, V.”

I walk my fingers up his chest. “Does it involve battery-operated candles?”

His grin lights up every nerve ending in my body. He slowly shakes his head though. “No, ma’am. It’s even better. Come on.” He takes my hand, threads our fingers together, and walks me out to his car.