Gently lying her back down she gives me a little huff while I remove her legs from my shoulders. I bend down, kissing her nose softly while she glares at me.
“I love you,” I say quietly watching her body relax and a smile grow on her face.
“I love you, Li,” she rasps back, brushing my cheek with the back of her hand.
I keep my pace slower while we devour each other. Our lips swelling, our hands entangled.
I found my forever in Malia Olin, and I will cherish every inch of her for the rest of my fucking life.
43
Malia
I’vebeenhomeforfifty-eight days now and I have yet to jump back into the action. With my initiation, Donovan dying, and the funeral it’s been a lot to deal with. My dad has struggled with the concept of relaxing.
The man may look like nothing bothers him most of the time, like he’d know how to relax. But that’s proven to be the most challenging part in all of this. Of course, my brother’s murder was no walk in the park, but I see my dad every single day not quite sure what to do with himself.
So, he’s up my ass all the time.
Chantelle convinced him to take her to Mexico to visit Uncle Elijah and Aunty Saria. That way, I could breathe, and my uncle could punch him in the face for me for being… The Omen.
True to his word, Liam never leaves my side. A woman can barely shit in peace because she might vanish into thin air.
Poof.
Honestly, though, I feel better knowing he’s always there when I turn around. Sometimes the things Elio did to me will sneak in and haunt me. Liam and I both have our fair share of ghosts from the four months I was in Italy.
I strap my dagger to my thigh, tugging the hem of my tight dress over it to conceal it, then double-check my heels are buckled tight enough, in case I need to run at any point tonight. I take a moment to look at my stilettos and purse my lips. Elio’s entire mindfuck ripped me of the person I have always been and he molded me into what he wanted in a woman.
His type would likely bend over backwards without much effort on his part. I imagine that was what made me interesting to him—a challenge. I hid myself behind clothes, swallowed my thoughts and ignored my intuition, felt shame and self-loathing for the first time in my life.
All because of a man whose masculinity and power were threatened by a woman.
I challenged every view he had about what he believed women should be. In turn, he targeted me when I didn’t fall to my knees in his presence. To his father, Giovanni, I was a means to an end. The Hail Mary of retribution against my dad from when Liam’s parents were killed. Joseph got too close to uncovering the Ricci secrets and exposing their connection to Martinez.
An arm curls around my waist as Liam pulls me against him and drops his mouth to the crook of my neck. I hum my satisfaction and drink in the comfort he brings me when my mind falls into that place.
“You have that look again,” he whispers, resting his chin on my shoulder, and I lean my head against his.
“I’m okay,” I say. “Nothing that a little spilling of blood won’t cure.”
Elio instilled a fear in me, it took up space in my mind and made a home there. My first-ever nightmare settling into a permanent residence and rearing its ugly head every now and then. The strength he stole from me was a temporary loss, and I refuse to fall victim to the residual trauma when he burns in the deepest pits of hell for what he did.
Dead or alive. Real or imaginary.
I was, and always will be, the biggest monster to Elio and his family as I slay their demons every goddamn day.
Tonight, Liam and I are going on our first mission together. A few poachers tied to the Riccis have settled outside D.C. From the information some of my men have gathered, it looks like these strays are trying to pick up where Giovanni and Elio left off.
“Are you sure you have the balls for this, Officer?” I taunt, as Liam kisses a trail up my neck and jawline.
He snorts, spinning me to face him before stepping back. He rubs his chin, his eyes slowly trailing up my body. I shudder as heat begins to build in my core the way it always does when he looks at me like that.
I cross my arms against my chest and pop out my hip .
“Liam Brenner,” I warn.
Raising a brow, he drops his hand from his chin. A smirk pulls at the corner of his lip, then he mimics my stance. He opts for spreading his legs to stand wider rather than popping out a narrow hip, which would look ridiculous. I bite my lip to hold back the giggle that bubbles up at the image.