This was how he was showing me he cared. The one-man island, inviting me to breach his black-sanded shore.
I moved beside him, and together, side by side, we left the warehouse.
His car waited for us outside the now-abandoned building, his driver patiently waiting for his boss. We slipped into the back seats. My arse had barely touched the leather before Arthur yanked me to his side, his arm slinging over my neck, possessively pinning me against him. He lit up another cigarette and wordlessly passed it to me.
I took the cigarette and sank against him, then passed it back. He was still shirtless, his suit jacket and shirt tucked beside him on the back seat. I reached up to where his hand lay over my shoulder and threaded my hand through his. Smoke filled the air as we travelled from Mile End back to Bethnal Green.
He clutched my hand again as we entered the church. We passed some of his family in the living room, and knowing smirks spread over their lips. Pride in my step, I followed him into his bedroom and straight into the shower.
He fucked me against the tiled wall, then again in his bed. Our bed. Because I knew I would never be leaving it.
In the aftermath of it all, we still hadn’t spoken a word. But conversation wasn’t needed. We had an oath, a contract signed in blood and sweat and sex. He had come for me in his chariot and whisked me to his home, to hell.
To be by his side.
Never to leave.
The lady to his lord.
A dark queen to his perpetually and unrepentantly dark king.
Chapter Twelve
CHESKA
Three weeks later
I stepped into the living room, only to find it empty but for Freddie. In the weeks since the night in the pits, I had barely left Arthur’s side. Only when he went on business did I stay at the church. Unless he was going to the Sparrow Room; then he took me with him.
I was remaining hidden. The police were still on the hunt for me. Arthur refused to let me out of the church unless it was by his side. My attackers hadn’t been found, and we were no closer to finding out who they were.
I didn’t want to leave the church anyway. It had become my haven.
Tonight, Gene Mason returned. I had never met him. He was Vera and Eric’s younger brother. Arthur hadn’t been particularly forthcoming when it came to the boy. Just that he had been away at a private facility. Vera had explained to me that her twenty-year-old brother had many demons, depression being top of that list. His stint in rehab was over with, and I knew Arthur wanted him home anyhow. The attacks on his ships and transport hadn’t ceased, and he was becoming more agitated the more answers evaded him.
Arthur loved his family like nothing I had ever known. He worked night and day to keep them safe. He didn’t speak it plainly, but it was obvious in everything he did.
The outside world believed him evil—they couldn’t have been more wrong. However, Arthur did nothing to dissuade them of that belief. He claimed it was better that anyone outside his family thought that way.
He still didn’t speak much to me either.
He had never told me he loved me. Never even uttered one complimentary murmur my way. But the way he held me in bed, the way he took my hand, the way he kissed me and fucked me and tracked my every move wherever we went, showed me everything I needed to know.
But there were times when I would see frustration and anger on his face; his eyebrows would pull down and a haunted shadow would flicker over his handsome features. There were times when his moods were dark, so dark he practically pulsed with malice. He grew distant. Drank more. Smoked more. There were even times he left me alone, only to find me later that day and fuck me so hard that his grip branded my skin and I felt him inside me long after he had pulled out.
I hadn’t yet figured out the reason for these moods. But I trusted in us. I believed that one day he would tell me.
“Cheska,” Freddie greeted me, pulling me from my head. He handed me a gin and tonic; he was holding a martini.
“Arthur isn’t back yet?” I asked, just for something to say and to push the worry from my chest.
As I had got to know the Adley family, it was apparent that Freddie was the quietest, except for Arthur. He was always kind and approachable, but he was happiest sitting in in everyone’s company, only offering chatter every now and again or when he was asked a direct question. “Not yet.” Freddie sat down, and I sat in an armchair beside him. It was the first time since I’d arrived it had been only us two. “They should all be back soon. Eric and Vera went for Gene.” Freddie checked his watch, then his phone. I settled back against the chair as he typed out a text.