Page 53 of Wild Side
Ice and Daisy stand, then scoot past us and out of the kitchen, leaving us alone. I’m not sure I like them in here alone with Zadie. Not that they would say anything, but still, it feels like two worlds that should not ever collide. Lowering my head, I touch my mouth to hers, gently shoving the box against her stomach.
“Go and get something to eat, honey,” I mutter against her lips.
I don’t have to tell her twice. Before I realize what’s happening, she turns around and rushes toward the table. I watch as she places the box down in front of her and then opens it, letting out a gasp.
She whips her wet hair around, her smile as big as the fucking sky. It’s in this moment that I realize I would do just about anything to make her smile like this.
I would give her the moon and the stars.
I would shed the blood of my enemy and my brother for her. I would do anything she asked. But the fuck of it all, I don’t think she would actually ask me a goddamn thing. That’s what makes me willing and ready to do whatever the fuck is needed for her—anything.
ZADIE
A blueberry muffin, a lemon poppyseed muffin, a spice crumb-topped muffin, and a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin. Heaven. I haven’t even checked the cupcake flavors, but there are four gorgeously decorated cupcakes that have my name on them for later tonight.
Chase moves around the kitchen in the background, and as much as I want to focus on what he’s doing, the blueberry muffin isn’t just calling my name; it’s screaming it. Crying for it, really. Unwrapping the paper from the bottom, I lift it to my lips but don’t open my mouth, not yet.
I inhale to let the scent of sugary sweetness flow through my body. Amazing. Not just a little amazing, downright fucking fantastic. That’s how good this smells. I wish I could bottle the scent and carry it around with me.
That’s how good it is.
Opening my mouth, I sink my teeth into the soft, fluffy vanilla muffin and tear out a chunk. A blueberry pops in my mouth on my first chew. It’s heavenly. Absolute perfection. Ialmost let out a moan when the sound of clanging metal causes me to shift my focus from the heavenly muffin to the kitchen.
Standing with his back to me is Chase, but I can’t tell what he’s doing at the stove. Instead of just staring at his back, I decide to ask him what he’s doing. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, but only slightly. His eyes find mine, and he smirks before he turns back to the stove and tells me what he’s focused on.
“I’m making breakfast,” he simply states.
I’m not sure what that means, considering I’ve already eaten half a muffin in two bites. I open my mouth to ask him what he’s talking about. The man brought me four muffins and four cupcakes. I can’t imagine what else he thinks I should be eating.
“Scrambled eggs. You need protein for both you and the baby. Then we need to talk.”
Snapping my lips closed, I can’t help but find his concern sweet. I probably do need protein. I can’t imagine it’s healthy to only eat carbs.
“And fruit. You need fruit, too,” he says, being so damn sweet I can’t even think.
A few moments later, my muffin has vanished, and Chase sets a plate in front of me. Eggs with white cheddar cheese melted on top, along with a small bowl filled with strawberries. Looking down at the bowl and plate, I take it all in, and my heart races at the same time my stomach flips.
“What? I do something wrong?” Chase asks as I hear him place another plate down before the chair scoots across the floor, and I imagine he’s sinking down onto the seat. But I can’t look away from the food in front of me.
“Zadie,” he calls out, which forces me to lift my head. My eyes find his almost instantly. He’s watching me, a brow arched as he stares straight ahead at me, then he dips his chin slightly,his eyes never leaving mine, before he speaks again. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice dropping slightly.
“Nobody has ever made me something so nice before. It’s perfect,” I whisper.
He presses his lips together and moves them back and forth. I watch for a moment, unsure of what to say. I’m telling him the truth, though. My father barely cooked, and what little he did stopped when I was able to do it myself.
“I could kill him all over again,” Chase whispers.
I know he’s talking about my father. And his words should make me feel guilty, because I agree with him. My father being killed doesn’t bother me at all. My life is going to continue the way it has for the past three years.
The only time I even saw him was when he demanded I appear for some function or another, which were few and far between. And I hated it, because he always made me put on some front.
I always had to watch everything I said and did. Otherwise, he would give me a look, and in that look I knew he was going to be angry with me. I tried my very hardest not to let that happen, because I wasn’t sure what his wrath would look like.
Finding out what his wrath felt and looked like was about as much as I imagined. It was brutal, painful, and I have no doubt that if there hadn’t been anyone around, it would have ended much differently. Because I know deep in my heart that it would have been me who is dead right now, not him.
“It’s done,” I whisper.
Chase jerks his chin once, and he growls, “It sure as fuck is. No fucking person will ever touch you again, honey. You’re mine now, and I will protect you until the day I die.”
