Page 54 of Reaper
We got rid of the Bratva in Oakland except the Volkov’s who have a tentative business arrangement with the Sinners, but you can’t be too cautious. Anything can happen.
“No, I don’t, but it’s just in case anything comes up you can’t handle on your own. I’ll get to you as soon as I can, but that’s the safest place you can be until I get there. Did Tongue give you the black card?”
“Yes, but I don’t…”
“Use it, Paris,” I say, cutting her off. “It’s to help you get back on your feet.”
Tongue said at first she refused it, but after he didn’t back down, she reluctantly took it.
I put in a call to my friend, Brian Hamm and asked him for a favor after I found out she had put in an application at his companyBH Cyber Securities. It’s a favor that’s going to cost me a lot but it’s worth it to make her happy. He offered her a job, a furnished apartment, along with paid utilities and the first month’s rent. With her job secured and a place to stay, Paris has her new life in front of her. And while it hurts like a bitch, I’m happy she has nothing but a bright future waiting for her.
“I’ll only use it if I need it, and I’ll pay you back.”
There’s no use in arguing with her when she’s got her mind set to something.
“I guess this is it,” she says, another tear rolling down her cheek.
“This is not goodbye, sweetheart, okay?” I whisper. “It’s see you later.”
She nods, gazing into my eyes, then gently kisses my lips. “See you later.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. I hate to let her go, but this is the best thing for her. “Take care of yourself, baby. And call me when you get settled in.”
“I will.”
She walks to the door, and I follow. Our steps are slow, heavy with the weight of the moment because we both know this is it. This is the end of something neither one of us expected.
She grabs her backpack and puts it on. Then she grabs the handles of her two rolling suitcases. I open the door for her, and she rolls them out into the hallway. I watch her walk to the elevator, her footsteps echoing softly on the polished marble floor. And with each step she takes, a fresh wave of sorrow washes over me, each footfall a blow to my heart.
When the elevator door opens, her teary gaze lands on me. I wink at her hoping it will cause her to smile and when she laughs, it helps relieve the tension in her shoulders a fraction. Then she disappears inside and out of my life, leaving a void I don’t believe I will ever recover from.
I don’t know how long I stand here hoping she’ll suddenly appear again, but that’s wishful thinking. A deep sigh escapes me as I rake my hand down my face—the emotional weight of the day finally settling in. Things will never be the same now that she’s gone. It’s my new existence. I have no other choice but to get used to it.
When I go to step back inside my condo, the elevator door opens grabbing my attention. And for a moment my heart soars at the belief she’s come back, but as soon as Dylan and Gavin step off the elevator, my heart plummets. Once again wishful thinking.
“What are y’all doing here?”
Gavin proudly displays two six-packs of beer, while Dylan hefts two large brown bags of what I presume to be food.
“We figured you might want some company,” Dylan says as they walk toward me.
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” King says. “Let’s get drunk.”
I need to be by myself; the last thing I want is company. All I want to do is get drunk alone and go to bed, but I don’t tell them that. This time it might be better if I don’t go through this alone.
“Come in, then.”
“You want to talk about it?” King says.
My brothers are sitting on my couch across from me expecting me to tell them my feelings and I don’t want to, even though I know it’s probably best not to keep everything bottled up inside. It’s one reason I haven’t completely opened up with Paris. Sharing my feelings isn’t my strong suit.
“Not really,” I mumble, taking a sip of my beer. “It’s time to move on.”
“But you love her,” Saint says. “And from what I see, she loves you too. Why the hell do either of you need to move on?”
I do love her. I can admit it to myself, but it doesn’t mean we should be together.
