***ZANE’S POV***
I know one thing about London, whenever she has a secret she wants to hide from me, she tries to lie me and then placate me some more.
After making her cum three times on my lips, I help her into her clothes, I feed her, noticing the few bites she takes off her meal.
A small sigh escapes my lips, leaving the rest as it is supposed to be. Rested.
“Zane?” London calls out.
She has a cookie box in her hands and as she in munching on it, I see the frown lines above her forehead, she is trying to be as calmed as possible, but I know her already. Too well, if I may be proud to boast about it.
“Anything you need, honey?” I inquire, my eyes dancing around hers.
She looks away. A clear sign that she is about to do something shitty.
After she puffs out the air in her lungs through her mouth, she says casually,
“Can you drop me off in town and then, pick me up something later?” she inquires.
Busted. I didn’t know what this was about, but I felt a bad air sweep into the room almost immediately.
“We have everything we need for at least a month or so, what do you want to do in town?” I ask, threading with caution.
She knows this is going to be difficult, I am a very difficult man, and if she wants to gain the right of passage, she needs to own it.
I take a gulp from my beer glass, and then, placing it on the table, feeling good.
“Please, can we just not argue about every little turn I try to make around here, Zane?” she asks pushing the cookie can to the table.
“I just want to know where my wife will be in the next few hours, don’t I at least deserve it from you, honey? Unless you are hiding something from me,” I fire out.
London’s gasp is audible. It was so freaking loud that I looked at her, making sure to know she wasn’t just being dramatic. Of fucking course she was being.
“You don’t trust me, is that it? You are an asshole, Zane. I just hate that you have to keep me stuck in here for so long,” I bite out angrily.
She stares at me with disdain in her eyes, if she thinks she can stare me down with those pretty blue eyes of hers, well, she is failing woefully at it.
“London?” I call out on her as she just walks away.
I enter the kitchen to find a glass of milk dripping to the floor, and then, two more jugs empty.
When she swirls around, she notices me and I see the fear in her eyes. London was pouring out milk so we could have an excuse to go to town. I wonder what was so important there.
“What are you doing?” I question, my eyes on her face, studying her closely.
“The milk was bad, thus, I poured them out. We need milk for breakfast tomorrow. We can go but some at the supermarket later,” she says, a beginning of a smile creeping up her lips.
She is being excited that we are going there, but what I can’t crack my head open is the why.
I grabbed the bottles on now empty milk and look at the expiration date. It is two years away from expiring and my anger just bolts up.
“You can’t waste food and lie on it, London. In fact, you are grounded. You aren’t allowed to leave the house until further notice. Let us see how you will go to town then, Miss London,” I say sounding proud of myself.
“Is this how being married to you is going to look like? A constant reminder that I married an asshole? Tell me, Zane?” my wife shouts, her big eyes on me, filled with tears.
“If you don’t want transparency between us, London, then, that is fine, I will treat you like a submissive, and you will get the punishment netted out to you,” I say.
If glares could kill, what London’s eyes were doing to me now would have exactly being that, but I some care, I have my own things to talk about, to focus on, and no matter how crazy it looks or sound, I try my God damn best to control myself.
In the end, I walk out of the room and into the room.
What happened from the time we were so much obsessed with one another, and playing the daddy dom and little girl dynamite, huh?
I had just being asleep and then, woken up to London acting all strange.
I force my brain to think harder than it was doing. I needed answers to the questions pooling through my mind, I wanted all those little unanswered boxes in my head ticked.
Sliding out of the house, I put on my shoes and go for a run, I bet I need my head cooled off as much as possible.
By the time I returned to the house, I couldn’t find my car in the garage, and London wasn’t in the house. Anger filled my veins, making me furious.
*
***LONDON’S POV***
I grab Zane’s keys to his truck after he left for a run and take the heed to the garage. I am on my way to town and London’s car was too big, making it difficult to see past the dashboard down.
As promised, I arrived at the supermarket, but I was half and hour late. I bet Michael wouldn’t mind, it is the thought of coming that matters.
As I entire the supermarket, grabbing a basket, I make my way to the milk shelf, putting some milk into the basket.
When a small hand wraps around my waist, I fight the urge to jerk back, but the familiar sent hits me like a war machine, I hate that feeling, I try not to say anything, other than escape his touch.
“Hey, London,” Mike greets politely.
I look at him over my shoulders and gasp, turning fully to stare at him.
He looked so messed up, well, he looked like he was actually healing from something.
“What the fuck happened to you?” I ask my voice sharp and filled with pain.
“Zane Vincenzo did this to me. Congratulations to your wedding, but I think you married the devil, London. You need to leave him now before he hurts you just like he had done to me,” he tells me.
The sorrow in Michael’s eyes tug at my heart, I want him to know that as much as I want to take the heed, I don’t know where to run to. I barely have enough to take me somewhere far in the world, and with Zane always breathing at my neck, I know that man will be impossible to avoid.
Even standing here with Mike, I know it is a big deal, I will soon pay for it if Zane even catches a man close to me. The bastard is that possessive.
It is the fact that I like it so much for it become a turn on that makes my skin crawls in a sweet way though.
“Run? To where?” I ask sounding so damn stupid.
The man chuckles lightly, his eyes crinkles ever so nicely and I know that I have to stand on a strong foot, I just can’t get enough of it though.
“I could help you, London,” he states.
This wouldn’t end well at all. Looking at Mike, I see what Zane has already done to him just for thinking that he had a hand in helping me run.
Right now, I can’t imagine the things he would actually do to him when he finally finds our that his suspicions where right.
And me? What the fuck about me? I shiver as all the horrid punishments Zane could lay on me would be enough to make me break.
“Why… Michael, why are you doing this for me? We are friends, I know, but what do you have to benefit from this whole deal?” I inquire.
I feel his hand start to tighten on my arm and his fingertips dig into my exposed flesh.
“Let go off me, Mike, that hurts,” I tell him, pain coursing through me.
I look at my arm where he had grabbed me and his fingerprints are in my hand, anyone who is attentive enough will see the fast grips of pain, in my arm.
I hate it.
“Sorry,” he throws out.
Before I can utter another word, he leans in and slightly kisses me beside my lips.
I was nervous he would touch my lips but he didn’t, and when he looks up at me, all I see is the care of a genuine person staring back at me.
I know I have to respect this space of his, and as much as I want it, I control myself, taking a few steps back.
Mike stops me, leading me towards the cashier.
“Come, I will pay for your milks and you can return home,” he tells me.
I put some chips packs in the basket and we head to the front desk where I don’t object him paying for the things I took.
Outside, he gives me a forehead kiss, opens the door and help me into the ridiculously high truck.
“If Zane is ever a problem to you, London, I just want you know that you have me. I will always have your back, little girl, and no matter what you do, just know you have a friend in me,” he gives me a forehead kiss and gently closes my door.
From the rear window, I see him open the back door and put the milk in it, he closed it and waved as I drove out of the place.
I had spent two hours outside and that was because the traffic in town was crazy. I couldn’t help think about everything that had just happened.
Michael had been so fucking closed to kissing my lips. I am still in my honeymoon and I just let a man touch me like that?/ he would have blatantly kissed me had I not shifted my head the time I did, and also step back the moment I had.
Crazy.
My hands are shaking as I drive into the big field where Zane’s house is and I don’t see the rock from outside the dashboard, thus, bumping on it and trying to stabilize myself, I hit the big tree in front of me, slamming my head against the steering.
The smell of rust makes me know I have blood streaking down my forehead and the air sack comes out to help, almost blinding me.
“It hurts! Jesus it hurts,” I squeak out the reality as I hear the front porch crash open and an angry looking Zane comes stomping out of the house.
When he sees me behind the steering, his face turns from anger to worry in one second.
“London? Fuck! London,” he says.
My face is so heated that I have tears wetting my cheeks. It burns me and knowing that the hurt will not cease soon, I try to be calm.
At once, Zane opens the car and helps me out, helping out with the air sacks. I hate it.
He doesn’t look at me, Zane just fucking ignores my existence, reason why I stomp into the house and lock the guestroom door, anger pooling in me when I discover the latch was bad.
“Stupid. Shit head Mafia acting like a mountain man,” I say aloud, not giving two fucks that the man could hear me.
At this moment, I don’t care.
When I hear the struggle on the door, I spurr before returning to my work. I don’t give Zane the slight chance to think I will help him out.
“You couldn’t open the door? You heard me shouting,” he barks out.
“You are better outside than inside, and that applies every fucking aspect of my life,” I blurt out.
For the first time in since I know Zane, he gasps. When he opens his mouth to talk, he only gapes like a fish.