Page 7 of Tear Me Down
“It’s beautiful,” I mutter in awe.
“It’s Nana’s.” I look back at him at his confession. “We agreed that you’d love this more than anything else.”
His nana gave him her ring? For me? Do people actually do that? I thought that it was just something from movies, or something people only say. From the magnificence of this ring, the age is clear. Definitely not new, but well taken care of, and clearly cared for as more than a possession. I can only imagine what this ring means to her, and out of all of the grandchildren she could have given it to, she gave it to him. To give to me…
I never thought I could be loved so immensely. To be cherished and adored in such an all-consuming way that it would swallow me whole. I’ve never been truly sure about anything in my life, but I’m sure about this. I am adamant about him, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that our love for one another is resolute. Before we even met, he said that my story should be carved into the cathedral walls, but he didn’t say which part of my tale. Any chapter of my life would be worthy of such worship, as long as that passage has him etched in beside me.
My eyes sting with unshed tears, and it becomes hard to swallow. I take a moment to clear my throat, blink away the droplets from my eyes, and prevent myself from turning into a sobbing mess.
“It’s even more beautiful then,” I choke out. He looks into my eyes, and I watch as he searches them, words on the tip of his tongue. “What? You keep looking at me like that and we’re definitely not leaving,” I declare through my genuine grin.
“I just wish I knew how to tell you how much I love you.”
There goes the butterflies in my stomach again.
“You? At a loss for words? That’s new.” We laugh and he gently rubs my jaw with the pad of his thumb, staring down at me like I'm the most precious thing on this planet.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I meant it. You're every breath in my body. The only thing that keeps my heart beating. You're the only oxygen I need, and I feel like I'm suffocating when you're not near me. I may have Devil’s Hands, and this house, but I'm nothing without you. All of it is nothing if I don’t have you.” He says it so easily, like he doesn’t even have to think about it.
“That’s not true. You had all of this before me, baby. You would still have it if I couldn't be here. You worked for all of this.” I gesture around the room, implying his life.
“No,” he declares, and the conviction in his voice is clear. “There’s only two parts of my life. Waiting for you, and during you. There’s not an option for ‘after’ you. There is no after. My soul has searched for you for eternity, clawed its way through death and darkness to find you. I feel that in my bones. I was made for you, and I see that so clearly now. I saw it the day your jeweled eyes pulled me out of the depths. You make me so strong, invincible even, yet you're my kryptonite all at the same time. You're the only thing that could bring me to my knees.” He cups my face in his strong hand, compelling me to lean into it once again. I blink more tears away, trying to keep it together.
“A king bows for no one,” I choke out, my voice slightly strained.
“Except his Queen.” He slowly lowers himself on one knee and holds me by my hips, gripping me so tightly that I know there’s no force that could pry him away. “I'll always bow to you.” He stares up at me with such devotion that it should only be meant for divinity. Laying every fiber of his heart and soul out for me to take as an offering to his infinite commitment. Delicately, he pulls me in and bows his head against my stomach, nuzzling into my midsection affectionately. I don’t stop my tears this time, only wiping them away before I run my fingers through his hair, needing to savor him.
I cannot wait to get married and have a family with this man. He’s so formidable and precarious. Dangerous to anyone but me. But he’s also caring and genuine. I never have to guess how he feels about me, even from the first time we met. He’s ever only truly been himself, and that clarity is just as sexy as him being on his knees for me.
Lifting his chin up and guiding him to look up at me, I reach down and meet him halfway, kissing him so fervidly and tenderly that I can only hope to convey half of the love and adoration he shows me. He stands and encases me in his strong arms again, not breaking the kiss for even a moment. Our tongues attack each other as he engulfs me, yanking me as close to him as possible. I can’t take it anymore. The overwhelming need to have him is too much, igniting my skin on fire.
I frantically move my hands to the waistband of his dress pants, and begin to loosen his belt, when we hear another knock on the door. I groan in frustration, the interruption pissing me off. Once again, I have to suffer the twisting of my gut instead of having my way with him.
“What a bunch of cock blockers,” I whine, practically throwing a tantrum. He forces a shallow chuckle.
“Yeah, no shit,” he seethes, gripping my hips and clenching his jaw so tightly that I'm not sure he’s breathing. He looks back at me, locking on to me with that feral gleam that makes me draw a gasp. “You just say the word, and we won’t go. I'll tell Zeke to fuck right off, pin you down to that bed, and make sure you can’t walk without feeling me inside you.”
I whimper, not only from being so turned on that I might die a wet mess, but because I know deep down how selfish it would be for me to say that. We need to go. It’s not for fun or to play dress up. It’s to stop Hugo and put an end to his reign of terror. As if he could read my thoughts, Damien nods reluctantly and plants a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“To be continued,” he whispers just as Zeke opens our bedroom door.
“Carter is all set up. Are you two ready?” he checks.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” I say as I grab his hand and lead him out of our room, trying to gather any resolve I have to get through this.
Chapter four
Damien
‘Dance With the Devil’ – Breaking Benjamin
This pretentious bastard.
Committing all the atrocities he does, walking freely, and able to buy not only one, but two mansions like the one we’re pulling up to now. Elegant, antique, ruined brick stretches three floors. It’s white, freshly painted, and most of its character and charm is overtaken by modern windows and auras of evil. What looks like it used to be a graceful seventeenth century home, now looks corrupted by sharp angles, pared-down color, and a front double door that is clearly misplaced. Tall, Doric columns line the front of the vast building but are overshadowed by lights that were cheaply placed at their feet to showcase the height. All to show off his drug money and appear put together to the rest of the attendees.
To the untrained eye, this place would scream opulence. To the rest of us? It’s a show of pure corruption. Sadism cloaked in a curtain of wealth.
Myfiancétold me not to kill anyone tonight, but she knows I can’t do that. To walk into this monster’s lair and leave everything to chance? That’s not an option. Surveying, at least, is essential. Key to whatever plan we can put together to take Dust down, but if I can take out a few of these assholes in the process? I'm going to do it.
