Page 82 of Aiden

The man who killed my father.

Thomas Peters.

Tears slide down my cheeks and I lower my head, asking through gritted teeth, “When?”

“A month.”

I hang up after talking with her for a few more minutes, stunned. I turn towards Aiden to explain but he waves his hand in dismissal.

“I heard it. The speaker was loud.” He strokes my hair. “I’m sorry.”

“When we get back, I want to visit him.” I state with a confident nod.

He goes rigid. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. You’re not going to prison to visit a murderer.” His tone is laced with finality.

I shake my head. “He killed my father. He hasn’t even been in jail for five years. Mom said it was good behavior. Fuck that. I didn’t have the courage to do a victim impact statement at the trial, and I regretted it ever since. I couldn’t even bear to sit through the trial.” Tears lace my vision.

“I need this. I need him to see I’m okay, even though he took something so precious away from me. Before he’s back on the streets, I need to tell him while he’s still locked up in there like an animal.”

Aiden nods in agreement, stroking my hair. “Okay, baby. Whatever you need.”

∞∞∞

I smile as I take in my new surroundings, a sense of calm coming over me. Our new penthouse is furnished with everything from the old apartment, providing an essence of familiarity in the large space. I admire the view beyond the floor to ceiling windows. I couldn’t imagine he would find a penthouse with a better view, but I was wrong.

The kitchen takes my breath away. Elegant marble countertops and a double oven. His old kitchen is nothing like this. The equipment is something one would see in a New York steakhouse with the best bakery in the world attached. A pitch-black eight burner stove sits atop the white marble, contrasting perfectly. Brand new mixers and all kinds of baking equipment line the countertops, adorned with dainty red bows.

Our room is modern, and the simplistic decor makes the space look refreshing and clean.

Tears flow down my face in sheets.

Aiden wraps his arms around my neck and kisses it. “I wanted to make it perfect for you.”

With a wide smile, I turn and throw my arms around his neck. Melting in his gesture, in his embrace, in everything he is.

“I’ll send you and Howard shopping for some art pieces, or whatever you like.” He blushes slightly, gesturing to the few canvases that are on the walls. I admire the paintings, brushing my fingers over the rough surfaces of each one.

I remind myself he’s never done this before, neither have I. But for him, he isn’t used to showing a softer side of himself to anyone but me. “Everything is perfect, and this art is amazing! Where did you get it?”

A dimpled smile blooms on his face. “Came with the place.” He shrugs, “and I want your touch on it.”

I smile. I guess this is it. We’re officially moving in together. It’s not like I haven’t been living with him, but this seems more stable, like this is for us. I haven’t given much thought to looking for apartments with Ash. We mentioned it in passing, but she’s content staying with Ricky. More than content, she’s elated.

Aiden leads me up a set of familiar steps. A heavy metal door opens to reveal an even more breathtaking view. We are so high up the stars look closer than ever.

“Look there.” Aiden gestures to a corner.

That’s when I see a bed situated in a perfect position to look at the night sky.

Tangled and full of passion, that is where we sleep on our first night in our new home.

Well, not much sleep.

∞∞∞

I loved every ounce of Brazil, but the looming threat of Thomas getting released has me on edge. He won’t come for me; it’s not that kind of fear. He’s nothing more than a drunk, who has no life in or out of prison. But he deserves to stay in prison.

How can they let him out on good behavior after murdering a decorated officer?

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