Page 82 of Gifts

And I love it. Every fucking second of it.

When he slams into me the last time, he falls forward and my knees give out. Still inside, he gives me all his weight as he puts a hand to my chin and I get his eyes.

Breathing hard, he doesn’t kiss me, but I feel his lips move on mine when he pledges, “This is good, but there’s more, baby. I promise you that. I’ll fucking prove it to you.”

He presses into me one more time before pulling out, pushing away from the bed, heading to my bathroom. Even though I’m spent, I miss his warmth as I come down from all the sexcapades and angry promises.

I lie here recovering, because he gave me everything I asked for. I not only feel alive, but I have a feeling that tomorrow I’m going to feel where he’s been.

*****

“Are you still journaling?” Dr. Graystone asks, probably to break the silence.

I shrug, not looking at him. “If you want to call it that.”

I hear him shift in his seat. “We’ve been sitting here for over ten minutes and you’ve been staring out my window the whole time. We should talk. Tell me how you’ve been.”

I look away from the budding trees. It’s Thursday. The Thursday after the Friday I was shot, and the Thursday after Asa moved himself and his children into my house, and the Thursday after Asa and I started having sex.

Lots and lots of sex.

He’s also been chauffeuring me, my kids, and his kids everywhere. I’m not quite sure how he’s managing all of our schedules, and I’m glad he earned all the money he did as an assassin, because as far as I know, he hasn’t worked a minute all week. If he’s not getting us from point A to point B safely, he’s been looking for the people who shot at Emma and me with no luck, which is why he’s playing chauffeur. Right now, Levi and Emma are at the house with my kids while Ozzie stands guard out front.

Asa doesn’t fuck around.

In fact, he’s waiting in the next room for me as I sit here not talking to the therapist I hired because of my dumbass, dead husband.

How is this my life?

“I went on a date.” It slips out of my mouth, but I guess it’s the beginning. No better place to start.

Dr. Graystone’s eyes light up, a mix of surprise and happiness spread through his features as if I was a baby, taking my first steps in life. “That’s great. Tell me about it.”

I shrug. “It was awful. Horrid, really.”

His face falls. “I’m sorry to hear that. But you should be proud you put yourself out there. It’s a big step, Keelie.”

Feeling talkative for the first time since I got here, I decide to get my two-hundred and seventy-five-dollars worth, even if insurance is paying for most of it. “I also met another man. That man and his two teenage children are now living in my home. I’ve met his ex-wife. She’s nice.” I shrug and decide to throw it all out there. “Oh, and I was shot. It happened when I was a target of a drive-by shooting.”

Dr. Graystone is no longer happy, but I do think I’ve upped the surprise in his features to an all-time high. He does his best to be professional and mask it, but I see it all the same. He fidgets in his seat, uncrosses one leg just to cross the other, and starts to scribble the mess that has become my life down on his notepad.

I bet he doesn’t have many patients out here in the country who’ve been shot at or grazed. Since I’ve never known anyone who’s been shot at, this doesn’t surprise me. Besides Asa. He told me the other night he’s been shot at.

But he’s a retired assassin. I should have assumed that.

Fuck me. My life is a mess.

When Dr. Graystone looks up, he tries to clarify what I’m pretty sure was clear the first time, as he frowns. “So, you were shot? By a bullet? From a gun?”

I nod. “Grazed is the term the ex-Marine-EMS guy used. Since he was a Marine, he would probably know.” I pull my shirt down below my shoulder where my wound is healing nicely to prove it. I’m sure I’ll have a scar as a party favor to remember the day forever. “See? I still have the stitches to prove it.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

That’s an understatement.

“And I’m having sex.”

He nods one more time and looks down to scribble some more. “You’ve had a busy month since we last met. Anything else?”

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