35

Carmine
Delilah has been different ever since the kidnapping. She’s been closer to me and more affectionate, and I’ve been the same. I don’t hide how I feel in front of my men. I can’t. I won’t. She’s changed me, and I have become softer. There’s no denying that. She deserves softness, silk, and velvet. I want to give her all of that.
I also want to give her some responsibility in this life. The last thing I want is for her to feel like she has no decisions in how our world works. So right now, we’ll talk to Ryan Romano, the teen who ran from his father’s clutches-who isn’t his father. Poor kid probably doesn’t know who his father is.
We haven’t seen much of him since he came to us. He stays in his room. Marie brings him food, or he wouldn’t eat. I don’t want him to think he is a prisoner here. He isn’t. If he is going to be here, I want him to feel welcome. The last thing I want is for him to feel afraid of everyone in this house, so I want Delilah to speak to him. After that, I’m going to take her to school so she can talk to her professor to see if she can make up her exam.
I also plan to surprise her with a visit to her father. She deserves to speak to him. While I want to be the only man in her life, I know that eventually she will come to resent that mindset. I can’t live with that knowledge. Her well-being and happiness are all I care about now. No matter what her father has done, she still loves him. She’ll need him in her life, especially with the baby. She’ll never forgive me if I kept our child away from his or her grandfather.
If there is one thing I won’t live with, it’s her hating me.
Now that I’ve experienced her love, nothing else will satisfy me. Her love is like fresh air after being drowned in hate and darkness. There’s no replacing that. It’s impossible to think anything could come close to the feeling of freedom she gives me.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, handing her a fruit smoothie with whipped cream on top. I didn’t ask Marie to make the drink-I wanted to. I want to pamper Delilah myself, so she feels my love.
“Sleepy,” she grumbles as she plops on the barstool. “And I’m wondering if everything that happened was real? I’m hoping it was a terrible nightmare. I can’t understand why this would happen, and why I matter so much so someone who doesn’t even know me. I was scared,” she admits, rambling in her sleep-filled voice.
I bet she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. Her eyes are still half closed, and a yawn interrupts her.
“I can’t get him out of my head. He was crazy. I’ve never met anyone like him. People like that should only exist in movies, but I know now that they don’t. He would have cut me up. He would have-”
“He wouldn’t have had the chance to touch you, Sweetling.” I turn her face by cupping her jaw. “I will always come to you in time. I will always save you.”
“But what if you can’t?” she whispers, the question breaking my heart. I hate that fear has been instilled in her now.
“You never have to worry about that.”
“Carmine, you don’t know if you will get to me in time!” she shouts, slamming her palms on the counter. “You don’t know.” The words are a whisper. “No matter how much you wish otherwise. You don’t know.”
“I do know. That is one thing I always know. Look at me.”
She doesn’t.
In a move I can’t help but love it because it makes her submit to me, my hand naturally wraps around her throat and squeezes.
I see it. The relief. The way her eyes shut, and her shoulders rise with every breath she takes.
“Look. At. Me.” The demand is sardonic and her eyes fly open. Her fear and vulnerability are clear as day in the gorgeous pools of her irises. Not in fear of me after what has happened. “I will always fucking be there. Do you understand? I will always save you. I will always protect what is mine.” I bring my lips to hers, not kissing her, but to make my promise known. “You. Are. Mine. Delilah.” I tighten my grip and she gasps. “I will spare my life to get to you. Make no mistake; there is nothing and no one that will ever get in my way to having you safe in my arms.”
She presses her lips to mine in a kiss, the smallest sob escaping her, and I swallow it down quickly so no one can hear.
“Wow, hey, I don’t want to see that. Gross.” Ari laughs.
I break away from Delilah and narrow my eyes at my brother.
“Kidding. Lighten up.” His attention falls to Delilah. “You look like crap, sis.” Ari sits next to her and tugs on a piece of her knotted hair after a restless sleep.
She kept having nightmares. I feel like we’ve switched places. She calmed my nightmares, and now hers are just beginning.
“Shut up.” She slaps his hand away and pulls her hair into a messy bun on top of her head.
I love it when she does that. She looks so beautiful, but it’s the comfort I like the most.
“I’m just kidding. You’re pretty and stuff.” Ari boops her nose, and she rolls her eyes.
“I feel like you’re a child,” I say, pouring Ryan a smoothie.
See? I’m welcoming. I’m a nice-ish guy. I can do…things.
“Growing up sucks. Who wants to do that?” Ari stretches his arm back and winces, but he looks better than he did. He has color to his face again and is no longer taking pain medicine.
“You have great movement in your shoulder,” Delilah notices, taking the straw between her lips.
I’m reminded of yesterday when I got to feel them around my cock, and I had to hold in a grumble of pleasure. I want nothing more than to throw her in bed and have my way with her. Ever since she’s been pregnant, my appetite for her has increased to dangerous levels.
The thought of her growing my child, completely full of me, of us, it unlocks something very primal inside me.
“Thanks. Granted the botch job that was done.” He grins, teasing her a bit before getting up and heading over to the coffee pot, but even hearing the tease in his tone, her eyes well with tears.
“I did the best I could with what I had. I’m sorry,” she sasses, but she’s hiding her emotions. Her tears cause her eyes to become glassy. In true Delilah form, she does her best to make sure not one tear falls.
“Fucking fix it. Now. If one tear falls, I’ll burn you with the same poker,” I say to him.
Ari frowns and heads over to her, taking her hand in his. “Listen to me. Hey, come on, look at me.” He sounds so serious. I’ve never heard him use that kind of tone before. She finally gives him her attention. “I appreciate what you did. You saved my life. I’m only ever teasing you, and I’m sorry. You did everything you could; without you, I would have died. I don’t care how gnarly my scar looks. I’m standing here because of you. I’m alive because of you. Anything I say to get a rise out of you, ignore me. I’m an asshole, but I’m a thankful asshole. You’ve come to mean a lot to me, Delilah. You’re the sister I wished I had instead of my brothers.”
She giggles at last, and my chest loosens with relief. I don’t ever want to see her cry. I always want her to be happy, and Ari, with his big mouth, will probably make her cry more often now, especially since she’s pregnant.
“You aren’t allowed to cry,” Ari states. “You’re cooking my niece, and she needs to be happy.”
“Cooking? Really?” He drives me nuts.
“What? She’s cooking. She’s baking. She’s doing something I can’t do.”
Delilah takes a sip of her smoothie. “How do you know it’s a girl?”
“She needs to be because another man in this house is going to drive me crazy. I want to have pretend tea parties. Kids are fun. Adults suck. It better be a girl, Delilah,” he points at her. “I won’t accept anything else.”
She slides off the barstool and comes to my side. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her cheek. “Well, don’t be mad at me. That isn’t up to me. That was up to him. If boys run in the family, which seems to be the case, then I’m sure we will have a boy. You can still have tea parties with him.”