no turning back

• fifty three •

gladys

I stared at Elijah's beautiful, discolored face while his words cycled through my head. He waited patiently for my response, studying my shocked expression without any emotion in his. After approximately three business days, I gasped.

"Are you serious?" I demanded.

He wet his lips, smiling almost shyly. "Serious as the grave."

"You're really going to give it all up? We're going to live in Colorado with Ben?"

"I am. And yes, if that's where you want to be. Otherwise, we'll pick somewhere cool."

I chuckled giddily. "I've always wondered what living abroad would be like . . . but Colorado will be a good first step. So this is really happening?!"

After all the times he'd told me so vehemently that he could never give it up, it was hard to take his words as truth. He was so convinced it was a core part of his identity. The concept seemed crazy to me, since I knew so many other parts of him. All the other parts of him. His job was the least significant thing about him. Then again, it had also affected our life and relationship time and time again, so maybe it was more considerable than I let myself believe.

"When they discharge me tomorrow morning," he said, "we're going directly to Colorado. Your uncle has even arranged transportation for us."

I bit the tip of my finger to stifle the enormous grin on my face. "How do you feel about that?"

"What? Your uncle helping?"

"Well, that, but I meant starting over totally new. What kind of jobs are you going to look for? What kind of jobs am I going to look for?"

His hands tightened where they gripped my hips to stop my excited squirming. "You're giving me a boner. Unless you want me to fuck you in front of the nurses, better quit now, baby."

"You have broken ribs. There's no way we're having sex."

He arched a brow. "Is that a challenge?"

Swatting his shoulder, I sat back with a sigh and fidgeted with his hospital gown. I couldn't wait to see him back in his usual black attire, looking powerful and terrifying and oozing mysterious sensuality.

"I'm relieved," he mumbled.

My eyes ticked up to his onyx gemstones, my tummy fluttering at the vulnerability I detected. He so rarely showed this side of himself, and only ever with me. I couldn't help but feel filled with awe. While I had about a hundred questions, I waited for him to continue at his own pace.

"I think I knew even before I met you that I couldn't sustain that lifestyle," he said. "My father trained me to carry myself as if the things I've done don't affect me . . . but they do. That became even more apparent when I saw you. I could pretend like the consequences and danger of my work meant nothing because I wasn't afraid of losing my life. But I sure as fuck am afraid of losing you." His eyes became dewy. "I need you, Angel. I don't want to do this life without you."

I wiped away the tears that dripped onto my cheeks as I gently lowered myself over his body, hugging him carefully. "You don't have to do it without me. I'm here for you always. I don't want to do it without you either."

"You deserve better than me," he said, stroking a hand through my hair. "You have every reason to leave me, and I don't want to give you any more." He trembled under me, and I held him like he would float away if I let go. "I promise to take our vows seriously. I'll never put anything above you again. No job, no kid, nothing. You are my top priority. My only priority. Hell, my entire world. Nothing matters without you."

His words left me ugly crying into the scratchy fabric of his hospital gown. I understood him perfectly. There was no place I wouldn't go, no task I wouldn't complete, and no words I wouldn't say to keep him in my life. After spending years apart and finally having him again, I knew I could never move on without him.

The tears dried after a few minutes, and he played with my hair, twisting the ends through his fingertips. I listened to the forceful, measured cadence of his heartbeat. It was the sound of home and safety.

"What happened to Pencil Dick?" he asked randomly.

I rolled my eyes at his nickname for Brant. "He returned to Georgia."

"Interesting."

"Are you mad because you didn't give him permission?" I snorted.

Chuckling, he shook his head. "No. I'm glad he's away from you."

"Always so jealous." I snickered.

"Well, he clearly had feelings for you. I don't give a shit how friendly he was. It reassured me he would protect you well, but that doesn't mean I liked it."

"He's got a whole wife and kid back home," I reminded him. "Besides, I think he went to testify against his father."

He traced my eyebrow with his thumb. "Yes, and how did that come to light?"

My face flamed with shame as I looked away. "I was desperate to get help in finding you, and Ben was so angry that I'd come asking for help after leaving without a word. So I thought if I told him the truth about Bernice, he'd stop hating you so much and help me locate you."

"I'm sure Brant loved that."

"Yeah," I muttered sullenly. "He was pissed. Probably still is. The FBI made a deal with him, though. They said they would prevent the police from pressing charges against him if he testified against his father. I guess he accepted their offer."

He nodded. "Good. That was the best option for him. Now he has a chance of having a normal life with his family."

"You're all about the normal life, now, aren't you?" I teased, holding his stubbly chin in my hand.

Smiling, he shrugged. "Cute little suburban house. A dog. Couple of kids. Grilling out on the back patio. Annual beach vacations. Watching you get more beautiful with gray hair and wrinkles. Fucking our brains every night 'til we're dead. Sounds all right to me."

I laughed at his coarse interpretation of a normal life, though I had to admit it sounded nice to me. More than nice, even. Perfect. Those things, so seemingly mundane, were all I wanted. All I'd missed out on since my parents died.

"How's that sound, Princess?"

My eyes were bleary again as a grateful smile stretched leisurely across my face. "Sounds like heaven on earth."