Page 18 of Redemption
I think back to the threats aimed in my general direction and internally wince, subtly positioning my hands in front of my junk while simultaneously turning my body away from her. You know, just in case.
But, even though she’s the living embodiment of wrathful vengeance and is shockingly horrifying at the moment, I’ve never wanted to be closer. In fact, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of her since I confirmed it was in facther.
It’s been years since we last saw one another, and we’ve each grown in our own ways. But especially in Alessandra’s case.
It’s not just that she’s gotten taller, filled out in a few very specific, very tantalizing places, or that her hair is longer than she used to wear it. It’sher.She’s still beautiful. Stunning. Incredibly intelligent—
“SHIT-EATING, BONER-SNIFFING NUT MAGGOTS!!!”
Eloquently humorous.
But now she has this confidence about her. A forte. A commanding presence that radiates from her that she will not befucked around with. It’s very attractive, and causes me to throw caution to the wind and take a tiny step closer to her. Slowly inching my way into her proximity.
She doesn’t notice what I’m doing, which is fine. She needs to get this out one way or another, and I think ripping up decades-old shrubberies is a healthy way to go about it. But I can’t help but wish she’d look up at me and notice I’m still here. That I haven’t left like she assumes I might.
Like I did all those years ago....
I’m right here, Mi Alma. Alive and here. With you. Please, look at me...
She doesn’t, choosing, instead, to continue her quest to redecorate the palace grounds. But I’m determined, if not stubborn. So, unable to help myself, I step into the line of fire, wanting her ire directed at me. At least that way, she’ll give me some of the attention I crave so deeply, even if it might be negative. I cross my arms and shake my head, choosing to respond to her original outburst. “People don’t actually do that. You know?” She pauses, and, even though she doesn’t look at me, I know she’s got me in her sights.
*Gulp*
This is what I asked for,I remind myself as I take a deep breath and continue to state my case.
“The whole choking people with dicks until they die.” I throw my hands up in a surrendering move. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s... possible... I guess.... But I’ve seen a lot of death and destruction and some pretty fucked-up shit by way of serial killer documentaries, and that particular method of murder never made an appearance. Not to mention, once you cut a dick off, I’d assume it would just go limp... and you can’t effectively choke someone with a limp dick. Just saying.”
Turning her fury in my direction, I almost duck at the fire in her eyes as she declares, “I read it in a book once. So, with a little imagination, and maybe a bit of rebar, it’s completely possible. And, seeing the mood I’m currently in, absolutely probable!” She tilts her head to the side, furrowing her brows. “No, notdowntheir throats,intheir throats.... Yeah, I know I’d have to slit a hole first. I’m not a complete idiot.” She scoffs before turning, picking up her pace as she walks down the street into the suburban jungle.
Holy fuck.
Note to self: NEVER piss her offEVERagain.
“Where are you going now?” I call out, chasing her as she steps up to one of the houses.
“I. Need. Fucking. Food. NOW.” Is all she says as she lifts her foot and kicks her heel into the door. “SON OF A BITCH!” she yells a second later, staggering back and falling to her ass as she cradles her, now, busted foot.
Okay.... I guess she gets just as hangry now as she used to. Good to see there are even more things that haven’t changed.
I sigh at her stubbornness but lift my boot and do the same maneuver, caving the door in and breaking its hinges at the same time. Her jaw drops as she stares wide-eyed at me before lifting her hand at the splintered wood. “How in the hell do guys do that so easily?!”
Cause I’m a badassis what I want to say, but I just so happen to like my balls, and she’s still pissed enough to threaten me with a good old-fashioned eunuch-ing. God forbid I say something whimsical at a time such as this; a man could lose more than just his sense of humor.
Instead, I decide to say absolutely nothing, choosing to wisely shrug in the face of danger and offer to help her to her feet. Once we’re both standing, I bow gracefully—cause I’m a gentleman—before ushering her into the house.
She scoffs at my overdramatic display. “Even after all these years, you’re still an ass.”
And you’re still beautiful.
The thought, while lingering in the back of my mind since I set eyes on her again, leaps to the front, tossing all other manner of important shit—safety, needing to play the hero, the fact that there’s a stick stuck in her hair that she doesn’t know about and I’ve been staring at it for the past twelve minutes—to the back seat. It doesn’t matter that I know she hates me or that I know she’s probably moved on. Probably with one of the guys from her group, which is why she’s so dead set on getting to them. But the thought remains: she’s still beautiful.
Always has been. Always will be.
And I’ve missed the hell outta her.
Stick still wedged in her hair, she runs right to the kitchen, opening every cupboard and dumping everything out onto the floor. Unfortunately... none of it is edible. The flour and pasta have been taken over by bugs, and the granola bars are currently harboring an entire family of mice.
“Shit.”
