Page 74 of Conceal

So, on an impulse, I bought a notebook.

I’m lying on my bed in our old apartment. I was tempted to go back to the cabin, but that’s her place now, our place. It’s sacred ground, and it didn’t feel right being there without her. At least in our old apartment, her scent doesn’t linger like a ghost, reminding me of the one person I want and can’t have.

Maybe.

Maybe can’t have.

Maybe the one person I’m working towards having.

For good.

Her uncle Ilya was successful in creating new identities, complete with paper and online trails, for all four of us. Now, I just don’t know what to do with that.

So, I write.

I’ve never written much. I didn’t finish high school. So, I have no idea why I thought this was a good idea. But the thoughts plaguing me need an outlet. Fuck it, she may never see this. I don’t have to give it to her - I just need somewhere for these thoughts to go.

I miss you.

It’s a lame start, but it’s the emotion that’s been riding me the hardest. Pushing aside my own self-judgement, I continue.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been running through my memories of you, trying to figure out when it changed for me. When I first started as your bodyguard, you were just a girl. But even then, you stood out. You were the light in every room. And yet, no one seemed to notice you. It always confused me. Until I got it. You were always too good, too pure for a mafia life. All these galas and fundraisers to pretend that they were legitimate members of society, while they made deals and arrangements and connections. Everyone was out for something. Except you. You were never looking to see what people could give you, or how a relationship could benefit you.

After your eighteenth birthday party, I remember you having a panic attack. Remember? I saw it coming on before anyone else saw your smile slip and snuck you out the back door.

I watched as you sucked in the night air. I wanted so badly to hold you and tell you it’d all be alright. But I knew I couldn’t.

You fell asleep in the back of the car that night, and I spent three hours just driving around so you could sleep. I would have driven all night if you hadn’t woken up.

Something shifted in me that night. It was the quiet knowledge that you trusted me enough to fall asleep, knowing I would keep you safe. You never said it out loud, but I saw it every day. Trust in the mafia is currency. It’s sacred. It’s not easily earned. Anyone can be a Fed or a snitch. But you trusted me from day one, and that did something to me.

Ugh. I sound like a sap. I’m not too macho to admit I have feelings. But reminiscing surely is pathetic. But it’s true. I’ve always cared for her; always wanted to protect her. I always knew she was too good for our world. I never wanted her to see the ugliness that has to happen for the Chernov empire to stand.

It wasn’t until college that I let my gaze linger a little longer than appropriate. I fought every one of my instincts to not be attracted to her. She was too beautiful, too pure, too young, too innocent for a man like me.

But as the years went by, I couldn’t control the pull to her. To simply be in her orbit. My life revolved around her. And I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Suddenly, Sparkles fly/scrambles up my arm and sits on my shoulder. Lev and I have been taking turns watching her.

“Kiss Kiss,” she says, nuzzling her soft head against my neck. So I oblige the tiny, demanding animal and loudly smack a kiss onto her head.

“You miss her, too, don’t you, girl?” I ask, rubbing one of my thick fingers against the bird’s neck behind, I guess where her ears are? Sparkles makes a satisfied cooing sound.

I sigh. “I do, too, girl. I do too.”

I set my notebook aside for now. One painful memory purged from my heart. I hate not knowing. I hate not knowing when I’ll be able to hold her again. I hate not knowing what her family will do when I finally steal her away. I hate not knowing if she’s as gone for me as I am for her.

A few weeks of sex isn’t enough to show her how much she truly means to me.

I want a family with her. I want kids with her. I want to stand beside her when she opens an art gallery. I want to share life’s moments with her - the good, the bad, and the ugly. The meaningful and the mundane. That I live for her smiles. That life isn’t worth living without her in it.

So, I write it all in my notebook. Wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to tell her.

Chapter forty-six

Lev

Mik, Ro and I have taken turns this past week to sit outside the Vitale compound. After Tatiana spilled to Mik that the FBI were involved, we couldn’t sit still and just wait for a phone call.