Page 98 of Brutal Legacy

Yes, she was my hostage, but the undeniable truth I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud was that she was also my wife.

My wife.

Finally, after so long… the universe had corrected its wrong.

It had brought her back to me.

Tiredness pressed into me, like a heavy weight was pushing me down. I was an insomniac, but I was used to being tired. I lived with it. I ignored it, just like I’d ignored the fact the Georgia was out there, living her life, in the same country as me. Just like I ignored the memories of a life I couldn’t forget and would always carry.

I shifted onto the bed beside Georgia. She had always been a sound sleeper. It looked like some things never changed.

God, the bed was comfortable. I hadn’t slept in one in years. Usually, the softness rankled on my nerves, but now, it felt just right.

Just like that, I let go and drifted away.

I woketo the feel of something on my chest. Panic gripped me. Was it a person, a body? Was it debris? My mind scrambled to catch up with the present, and I nearly shot upright, and only just caught myself when the object on my chest gave a small snuffling snore.

A snore?

I glanced down. Georgia’s head was on my chest. She’d migrated over to where I lay, and she was sound asleep on me. Her leg was slung over mine. My heart pounded. After years of being in peakphysical condition, I was developing high blood pressure after only a few days of sharing my room with this woman.

She sighed and moved against me, burrowing her face deeper into my chest.

The smell of her hair and my shampoo drifted to me. I couldn’t stop myself from running my fingers through it. My fingers caught on a tug at the end of the long length, and Georgia let out a small moan. Just like that, I knew I’d be hard all day.

So, she still liked having her hair pulled.

I had to wake her. This couldn’t continue. This was dipping my hand right into the poison and expecting not to get infected.

“Georgia, wake up,” I murmured gruffly.

My arm had crept around her back, and now, I squeezed.

She shifted against me, fighting my urge to wake her.

“Come on,topolina.” There better not have been a note of begging to my tone.

I shook her lightly, and her eyes drifted open. They were hazy and unfocused, her gaze roaming upward until it hit my face. Her eyes latched onto mine, and I could tell she was still more asleep than awake.

A smile broke out over her face.

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

An expression of pure relief and happiness.

“Elio,” she whispered, her voice deep and husky with sleep. She was still there, drifting in the ether. “Dove sei stato?”Where have you been?

That look in her eyes… no one had ever looked at me like this woman had, a lifetime ago. No one could ever look at me that way again, because I wasn’t the sort of man who could inspire such a look anymore…

Except from her.

I smoothed her hair back, locked in this stolen moment just a little longer.

“Sono qui.”I’m here. “Sono sempre stato qui.” I’ve always been here.

Her smile deepened. Sunlight hit her from behind, casting a golden halo around her dark waves.

Outside, far below the house, a loud bang sounded, probably deliveries stopping by the kitchen. The noise shattered the precious glass that had encased us in a memory.

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