Page 58 of Demise

“What?” he asks.

“It’s a lot, Danny. The Marco thing. What just…” I don’t finish the sentence. “You might be used to seeing all of this violence, but I’m not. In fact, I don’t think any normal person is accustomed to seeing this horrific shit.”

He licks his lips, his eyes going out to the club behind me. “It’s not forever,” he says gravelly.

I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

He looks back at me. “I’m getting out.” He straightens his shoulders.

I take a step back. “Getting out?”

Danny scratches the side of his neck, his tattooed fingers vibrant against pale skin. “I’m leaving all of this. I’m helping the feds take down my boss. That’s why we’re here.”

I rub under my eyes in disbelief. “Wait a minute.” I hold up my finger. “You,Danny O’Brien, is working with the police? You hate the cops. You’ve said that to me my whole life. Don’t trust them, and now you’re working with them?”

He slides his hands into the front of his slacks. “Trig and Sweep are wanted for murder. They were hired by a man named Simon. He needed a tough guy to take care of a couple pinchers. Sweep took the job, not having any idea Simon was a narc for the FBI. And I’m wanted for several other illegal activities. We’ll all be put away for a long time.” He places his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “So, I made a business deal with them. I help them take down Moretti Galo and they let me walk free.”

I move away from him, my eyes scanning the floor as I try to process what he’s said to me. All this time, all these years later, and he’s finally saying the words I’ve wanted to hear. He’s leaving the crime world. He’s leaving all of this.

I lift myself up onto the pool table, focusing my attention on the floor. “Is that why you said you wanted me with you? You knew you were getting out?”

He swallows, his eyes looking down at me, his throat exposed.

“You never did answer me,” he says.

The room grows smaller. I hear my heartbeat in my ears, my throat dries, and my palms begin to sweat. I stare up at him, remembering a time when his handsome face didn’t look so manly, but boyish.

I think about him climbing through my window, telling me about his day when we were just kids. And then the time he gifted me a bracelet because it was my birthday. I feel the weight of that bracelet resting on my wrist. I feel the weight of the past thirteen years.

It’s been heavy. God, has it been heavy. But even after everything, here we stand.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

His eyes dance between mine, and he fills the space between us. His hands go to my cheeks, and he lowers his head. “Is this what you want?”

A realization hits me. I need this man in my life. I love him, and I’ve always loved him. He’s this force that’s always pulled me. Something dangerous that shouldn’t be touched, but when you do, it feels like you’ve slipped into heaven. Maybe it’s an illusion, but I don’t care.

I should stay away. I shouldn’t be with him, but I won’t. I’ve always found a way to check in on him, make sure he was going to be at this birthday party or this holiday. I subconsciously dressed better, wore the right heels, fixed my hair wavy because I know he likes it. I always wanted to impress him. I never wanted to admit that, especially to myself, but what is this life if we’re not living it with the person we burn for?

And the truth is, I’ve been burning for Danny for so long, I’m nearly burnt up. Now here he is. There are no obstacles in our way. There’s change and truth, and I’d be a fool to turn my head away from the possibility of a life together.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” I whisper.

He exhales painfully. “Goddamn, woman. Goddamn.” He captures my lips roughly, his tongue seeking mine. His hand grips onto the side of my ass. I open my legs and he presses in. I can feel his cock harden. I reach for his waist, holding onto his belt as we kiss, deep and long, satisfying and earth- shattering. He grabs my breast, his kiss moving down my throat as I lean back slightly, running my fingers through his hair. I pull his face back up.

He presses his forehead to mine, lifting my sweater and holding onto my waist. “I love you,” he says. His eyes are closed.

“I love you more,” I reply, running the palm of my hand across the stubble on his cheek.

“Impossible,” he breathes, circling his thumb over my skin. “You kill me.”

I laugh lightly and he grabs my hand, kissing my palm. “I’ve missed that laugh. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard it.”

“Has it?” I ask.

“Yes. You’re usually upset with me when our paths cross.”

“That was the only way I could be around you. I had to tell myself that you were not good for me.”

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