Page 59 of Shared By 3

Especially when I think back to how I had Yuri. I had him right there and if the door hadn’t opened; I know–knowwithout a shadow of a doubt–I would have slit his throat.

Is surviving this life worth it if I become the monster people fear?

TWENTY-ONE

Chase

The next two days,Valerie doesn’t leave the house at all. She just makes herself busy. Insists on doing all the laundry, deep cleaning the house, then sets her eyes on our bed. She wants to go through all the sheets.

On Monday, I find her standing on her toes to put wet sheets in the drier. Candles fill the house with warm scents, so beautiful and bright that I forget it’s winter.

“Son of a-” she hisses.

I walk behind her and slide my hands over her arms. She jumps slightly and sighs. “Chase.”

“Is it that obvious it’s me?”

“You smell like you,” she mumbles. “Always with a bit of clean soap smell.”

I kiss her cheek. “Can I help with chores? You make cleaning look fun.”

“What?”

I keep forgetting she’s slightly deaf. I raise my voice and repeat myself. She nods. “Okay.

When she insists on sweeping and mopping, I turn on the radio and bust out socks. I slide across the floor while showing off my best dance moves and turning the broom into a guitar. She smiles, then laughs before using the mop handle as a microphone.

I pull her away from the mop and dance with her and the broom. She laughs and presses her lips to my chest. “You’re horrible.”

“Silly isn’t horrible,” I argue.

“Definitely not.” She stands on my feet to kiss me. “I love when you’re silly and don’t hold back.”

I want to promise her we’ll have plenty more moments like this, but at the same time, I know the terrible moments will not disappear. With my job and life, I know we won’t have more than brief moments of quiet.

“You don’t know this song?” She asks.

“Hmm?”

“You stopped dancing,” she hints.

I spin her again, and we dance before cleaning the floors. Once we finish, Valerie and I collapse on the couch, laying across each other. She plays with my fingers. “I want to talk to your mom.”

“That’s out of nowhere.”

“I need to know how to survive in this life, Chase. I can throw psychology at it all the time, but that doesn’t mean that I’m fit for it. I know I’m meant for you three, but the mafia ...”

I adjust, lifting her so her head rests on my shoulder. I move her hair to see her stitches and the bruise. I kiss the bruise and sigh. “I understand.”

“This isn’t me calling off the wedding, ending the engagement, nothing like that. I’m not running from you three. I just need to ... pad my armor, I guess. If I get more information, I can do that better.”

“You’re too mature for your age, stop that,” I huff.

She smiles. “I don’t want anymore nightmares about us all dying on our wedding day. I don’t want to worry every time you three are gone. I don’t want to retreat to safe houses just to feel secure.”

“Baby doll,” I croon.

“I already feel so alone. I can’t tell anyone about the way your work stresses me out. I’m in it alone. The mafia wives just don’t bother to find out what’s going on and enjoy the perks. Half don’t even like their husbands. The others have just adjusted to it,” she murmurs. “I almost told Sophie at the party.”

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