One Last Rainy Day: The Legacy of a Prince(99)
I feel it—the urgency, the crushing itch to get back to her. It’s been there, but it’s never been this strong. Even as I think it, my gut tells me it may already be too late.
“If he finds out . . . it won’t be good. You sure about this?”
“That’s where you come in. Just mute our watchdogs for enough time to get us home so we don’t have to deal with it. I need you to work your magic and make it quiet and painless. I’ll explain myself to my brother when the time comes—if I fucking feel like it—but I’m telling you, the longer I fucking stand here, the more I resent him for it. I honestly don’t give a fuck what his reaction is anymore.” I man up in a way I never thought I would or be inclined to. “I fell in love, and it’s not a fucking crime, and you of all people know it’s nondiscriminatory about the fucking who . . . how is she?”
Silence.
“We’re fucking grown-ups, Tyler. Let’s stop with the bullshit. I don’t fault you, the same way you aren’t faulting me right now. How is Delphine?”
“She just got her last scan done, and we get the results tomorrow or the day after, but she’s gone almost eleven months without a sip,” he relays, pride clear in his voice.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I rasp out, emotion getting the best of me.
Eleven months. Which means she was already sober when I took her to Pretty Place. That was the change I noticed in her, and Tyler was the significant thing that happened.
Emotion burns in my chest, my eyes stinging. She was sober. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“She kicked it, Dom, not me, and she’s still fighting . . . she’s fucking happy.”
The back of my throat burns. “Good, you both deserve it, especially her,” I say honestly. “We all fucking do,” I tell him, “And my bill here is settled. I’m not paying for it another goddamn day for loving her. Do you hear me?”
Tyler’s lingering silence sends my mind racing. “What? What aren’t you telling me?”
“There’s a direct flight leaving in a few hours,” he offers.
Relief washes over me as my eyes catch on a woman taking her dog on a late-night walk. She’s carrying a Louis Vuitton umbrella and matching leash.
I decide I’m never coming back to France.
She draws closer on her heels, her mile-long legs encased by thigh-high shorts. Her thin top has a little bow that lies in the middle of the cut in the chest, showcasing ample cleavage. Primed and packaged. She looks buzzed as she passes me, her gaze lingering enough to know she’s fair game. When our eyes meet, she smiles in invitation as she passes, her frizzy dog leading her down the street. I can’t remember the last time I really looked at any woman—save one.
“Dom?”
“Book it.”
An hour later, Albert is hooded as Julien gives me the dip of his chin in farewell before he’s covered, just as Sean lands next to where I stand. Glock trained on those apprehending our babysitters as I bat his arm away before he can focus and fire.
“Little slow on the reaction time, brother,” I chuckle as I pull my duffle from beneath the bed as our babysitters are dragged from the room. Sean turns to me, eyes wide. “What the fuck is happening right now?”
“Get dressed and packed. We’re fucking going home.”
“I’m the man who would step in front of a bullet for either one of you, no questions asked, but I’m also the man who held your fucking hands before I shaped them into fists. I’m the same man—up until I met her—who put you both above everyone else. But right now, who am I right now? I’m the man who loves her enough to not let anyone or anything in front of her.” Tobias, The Finish Line
Slumped against the door, head tilted back, eyes fixed, I absorb the night noise. Cicadas sound in the distance, in serenade with the crickets. The rustling of trees announces the light wind before it filters in, cooling my skin as the scuff on my outstretched boot becomes magnified by the filtering moonlight.
I miss none of it.
Where the world used to blur and time lapsed past me unnoticed, I’m fully attuned to it now.
Aware of every ragged breath I draw along with the distorted beat that steadily drums in my chest—despite its current inhabitable state. The overwhelming burn in my throat intensifies as I keep my focus while the ache webs its way through every vein, pumped further in by every broken beat.
The cool breeze whispers in again, gliding over my profile and arms, cruelly denying a shift in temperature, lacking any sign of a storm.
There’s not a single cloud in the moon-absorbed sky, a convenient view accessible to my right. A view that I reject with my whole being to keep the one I have. I have no use for the heavens anymore, no more questions to ask the cosmos, no future to ponder because they delivered my fate today.
A future without rain.
Without her.
As it turns out, hell isn’t discriminatory about geographic location but is, in fact, a state meant for me to endure wherever I may roam. That truth made evident today when it faithfully followed me home to watch me shatter on impact.
It was the sight of his Jag parked behind what we could only assume was Cecelia’s Jeep that tipped us off. After Sean and I shared a loaded look in the driveway, Tobias’s laugh reached us where we stood, ringing out from somewhere in the backyard. The sound of it drew us in and had us creeping through the gate, past the pool and garden, only to be slammed by the sight of what greeted us.