Page 83 of Golden Burn

“I was persuaded to do something else. Something concrete and secure. Not fantastical.”

“That’s such a shame.”

“It was. Tell me another of yours,” he says, passing me a plate of food I didn’t even see. I pick up one of the rounded pieces of bread with goat’s cheese, dried fig and honey drizzled on top.

Instead of giving him a secret, I grab the speaker I spotted earlier near the TV console. “Can I put something on?” He nods and hands me his phone. Quickly, I look up Golden Hour and put the album on. No shuffling.

The acoustic strings that open Slow Burn fill the dining room, sending a warm rush through my stomach. I really hope he doesn’t hate it. If he did, I’d have to run away again.

Kacey’s voice comes to life, her country twang soothing and beautiful. An image of my mother surfaces alongside it. She’s in the back office at the clinic, legs outstretched, sitting on the rolling office chair. Her eyes are closed, her hands resting on her belly. She’s so tired I can see the bags under her eyes, but she doesn’t ask for a break. She spends some time resting, listening to music that calms her, and then she hits pause and heads back out into reception.

She was the hardest working, most compassionate woman I’ve ever known.

Odin listens, sipping his coffee, watching me. Toward the chorus, I say, “This is my favorite album of all time.” Smiling, I keep listening to the song, tapping my feet to the even beat.

“It’s very… calming,” he says.

“It is,” I nod. “My mom and I used to put it on whenever we had a bad day at the clinic. This is the first time I’ve listened to it since she died.” We both fall quiet and listen to the first song bleed into the second.

I’m so lost in my own mind, so caught up in the emotions stirring inside my chest that I don’t notice Odin’s hand until it’s touching mine. “She would be proud of you. Clinic or no clinic. You aren’t a failure, you never have been.”

I’m so startled by his words that I forget to breathe.

A knock sounds at the door, breaking the spell. “That’ll be Dom,” he says and releases my hand. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He presses a tiny kiss to my head and then makes his way to the door. Once it clicks, the lock shutting tight, I wipe my eyes and shake my shoulders.

I know she’s proud. I think. But more importantly, I’m sure Gen’s proud of him, too.

Martise and I find ways to entertain ourselves all afternoon. Although the impending wedding is terrifying, especially knowing I’ll be in the same room as Cerbera again, we busy ourselves by practicing makeup, watching movies, and eating large amounts of sugar and carbs.

But as the afternoon draws near, I’m ready for Odin to come back. I want to talk to him about his plans for controlling the Lombardos because, for some reason, it doesn’t sit right with me. The dangers, so far, seem to be outweighing the benefits. I want to dive into his brain, hear more about what he wants to achieve. If I’m going to be his wife in this twisted world, then I want to be unified in our goal, not some prize piece he keeps locked up on the side.

I know he has fears about losing me, like he lost Gen, but we can’t be constantly stressed about safety every minute of every day. I can’t live like that. I need space. I need freedom. I need trust.

“How are you feeling?” Martise asks me, clearly sensing my internal battle. She tried asking the same question when she first arrived, but I dodged it quickly.

A heavy sigh releases from my chest. “I’m scared.”

“Is it the marriage or the man?”

“It’s not the man. I’m not scared of Odin.”Far from it. “I’m scared that he’s trying to do the right thing the wrong way. I mean, how do you know this is going to work? How does he know that Cerbera is just going to bow down and let him take the lead?”

“The law ignores those types of people because they’re constant. They’re always there, always causing havoc. It’s like catching rain in your hands, trying to bring them to justice. Some of them land in your palm, others slip through your fingers and make a mess.” A crease appears between her brows, her lips thinning with worry. “I have the same reservations you do. I don’t see this ending happily for anyone. It’s just a matter of when and how. Odin wants the Lombardos under his thumb. He wants full control. But I fear that is the last thing he should be doing. He should be living, not throwing away his life.”

“How can I convince him otherwise? We still barely know each other. He’s been wanting revenge for so long.”

“He has,” she agrees. She looks at me intently, her brown eyes a light with emotion. “I think he has been so focused on his plan, no matter the consequences to his own life, because he never imagined he would feel anything close to what he felt for Gen.”

My throat thickens.

“I sense him wavering,” she continues. “I sense his affection toward you and vice versa. It will change everything if you two decide to care for each other.”

Too late. I care too much already.

“You need to keep scraping away the mortar he used to cover all his cracks. You need to show him there is life outside of pain and vengeance. You need to show him he can live a different life, a better life.”

I drop my chin, my breath stuttering in my lungs. “I’ll try.”

---