Page 96 of Beautiful Secrets
He is right. Iamcrazy. I guess that is what having a baby does to you. All those hormones—they are shorting out my brain like a bad circuit. Making me say and do things I would never have before.
I sink my fingertips into my belly, and then quickly pull away my hand.
It might be the baby’s fault, but I cannot blame it.
That honor is solely reserved for my own stupid self.
34
Cole
Ikick open the car door and lean against the hood as I light a smoke.
It tastes glorious, but it’s not doing its job. I still want to punch my fist through the windshield, and fuck the consequences.
Should have eaten something at Sarah’s house. Meisie’s kids were raving about Mika’speljmen—I’m regretting not trying them. There’s a god awful emptiness in my stomach that no amount of nicotine or gum can get rid of.
It takes another few drags before I realize it’s not hunger, but regret.
Something I’ve not experienced much in my thirty-four years on earth. I left that to other people to deal with—like my brother.
Kill texted me earlier today, when I was still under the impression that Derek would have Mika back to Vasiliev before the morning was out.
I haven’t answered him yet. Honestly, I wouldn’t know what the fuck to say.
It’s a sad state of affairs. He’s family, for fuck’s sake. I should be able to speak to him. Get some advice about this whole Mika thing. But our relationship has grown stale and brittle the past few years.
I guess that’s what happens when the mundane creeps in and takes over.
Instead of living day-to-day with rivals and lawmen breathing down our necks, we both became complacent. I hate to admit it, but it wasn’t only Kill who became soft. I lost my edge too.
I suck on my cigarette and I will it to calm me, all the while keeping a careful eye on Mika’s blurry shape through the windshield.
It doesn’t.
I still have the overwhelming urge to fuck shit up.
Mika stiffens when I slide into the driver’s seat.
“Ain’t gonna bite you,” I grump out. “Not unless you’re into that.”
And despite everything, Mika laughs.
Christ, what is it with this regret? Do I have a surplus or something and it’s just oozing out of my fucking pores?
Because now I’m wishing I hadn’t pushed her away. All she wanted was the truth.
But this isn’t a chick-flick. A happy ever after isn’t guaranteed. My life is more like a horror film. Even when the monster has been defeated and the hero is victorious, there’s always a ten-second scene right before the credits roll that makes you wonder if that monster really—fucking truly—is as dead as you thought.
I glance across at her, and we lock eyes.
Humor drains from her face. Her lips part. Her breath hitches.
What is she waiting for?
For me to apologize?
For me to tell her I think I am in-fucking-deed falling for her?
