Foxy In Lingerie (Lingerie 10)

His features softened slightly, but he remained as stern as ever.

“I didn’t save you and your son because I gave a damn about you. I couldn’t care less whether you lived or died. She was the only thing I cared about. If she lost you, she would have been more devastated than when she lost me. That’s the only reason I took that bullet for you. I was taking it for her because she would have died if you died. Make no fucking mistake, Crow Barsetti, I don’t like you. I will never like you. I will tolerate you because of Vanessa. I will shake your hand because it makes her happy. I will treat your wife with respect because she’s the mother of the woman I love.” I stepped closer to him, getting right in his face. “But I hate you the way you hated me. Now it’s your turn to earn my respect, my approval. But don’t waste your time—because I’ll give you the same chance you gave me.” I stepped back, knowing I had to move. Otherwise, I might actually throw a punch. “Fuck. You.”

Crow took all my words with the same stern expression, his eyes locked on to mine without blinking. He didn’t show anger or hurt. He showed nothing at all, internalizing what I said in silence.

I finished what I came to say, dumped all of the blame on the person who should take all the credit. If Conway hadn’t pissed off the Skull Kings and got himself in harm’s way, I wouldn’t be with Vanessa right now. She would have ended up with Antonio, and I probably would have put a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger. This man had far too much control over my life, and I was done with it.

Finished.

Eighteen

Vanessa

Bones didn’t come home until later that night.

My calls didn’t go through because he’d turned off his phone.

This wasn’t how I wanted our relationship to be. We just got back together, and now we were fighting. Things had never been this tense between us, even when we were at our lowest point. That painting had ripped us apart.

He walked in the door shortly after eight.

“Thank god you’re home.” I jumped up from the couch, still in his t-shirt because I didn’t leave the house all day. I didn’t leave because I didn’t want to miss him if he came home.

He barged inside with the same anger as before. It was like the last five hours hadn’t happened. He was constantly livid, storming in and out of the apartment like a soldier marching into battle.

“You’re still angry?”

He walked up to me, the same venom in his eyes as before. “You tell me.”

I did my best not to roll my eyes because I knew that would just make the situation worse. “Griffin, let it go.”

“I’ll let it go when I feel like it. And I don’t feel like it right now.”

“We just got back together. I don’t want to fight—”

“We shouldn’t have broken up in the first place. Your father is a fucking piece of shit who needs to mind his own damn business. And if I hadn’t taken that bullet, you might be marrying this guy.”

There were so many things wrong with what he said, and the comment about my father rubbed me the wrong way. He might have the right to say it, but I didn’t want to listen to it. “I know you’re angry, but please don’t talk about my father that way. I’ll let that one slide…this time.”

He clenched his jaw. “How generous.”

“And who knows if I would have married him. It doesn’t matter because it didn’t happen.”

He shook his head. “But it would have happened. This guy isn’t just some random guy. He sounds perfect for you.”

“You don’t know him!”

“Then tell me I’m wrong.” The vein in his forehead throbbed. “Tell me.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed. “I’ll tell you this. If I had married Antonio somewhere down the road, and hypothetically, my father changed his mind about you, I would have left him in a heartbeat. Even if I had kids, I still would have left him. At any point in time, even if I was old, I still would have left him for you. Maybe Antonio is perfect for me. But it doesn’t matter how perfect he is because I only want you.” I placed my hand on his chest, right over his heart. “He asked me out, and I said no. I told him I wasn’t ready, so he said he would wait until I was. We had coffee a few times, hung out at the gallery a few times, held hands once or twice. I was attracted to him and knew I would want to be with him once I was ready. That’s the full story. But then you were back in my life…and the last six weeks didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.” I moved closer to his chest and rested my forehead against his sternum. My hands held on to his hips so he wouldn’t slip away from me. “You’re the man I want to make love to every night. You’re the man I want to marry. You’re the man I want to have kids with. You’re the man I want to be buried next to for all eternity. You.” I grabbed his arms and squeezed them. “Just you.”