Page 111 of Poison and Wine
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about me?”
“Of course, I’m worried about you! You have a gaping hole in your chest.”
“It’s more my shoulder,” I argued.
“There’s blood everywhere, and you’re the color of paste,” she argued through her sobs.
In that moment, I wished I was a better man. A man who was in control of his emotions and knew how to adequately express them. Instead, I did what I did best, which was to push people away when I couldn’t handle the intensity of the moment. “I thought maybe you’d be happy at the prospect of my imminent demise.”
She sucked in an agonized breath. “How could you think that least of all say it?”
“You’d be free to go to your brothers or back to your life in the order.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded.
With a shrug that caused agony to ripple through my shoulder, I replied, “I was just stating facts.”
Caterina’s dark eyes narrowed on mine. “Stop pushing me away, Callum. I don’t care that you’re at death’s door.”
God, this woman. While I hated she could see right through my insecurities, it gave me life. “Who says I’m pushing you away,” I countered.
“An hour ago I was ready to consummate our marriage. That should tell you that I don’t want a life with my brothers or back in the order.” She took my blood-stained hand in hers and brought it to her cheek. “I want a life with you, stubborn bastard that you are.”
Her words sent an ache through my chest that wasn’t related to my wound. More than anything in the world, I wanted a life with her. I didn’t feel that way just because I was staring down at my mortality. I loved every minute of the time I’d had with her, and I wanted more than anything to see things through.
“I am a stubborn, emotionally stunted bastard, aren’t I?”
She nodded emphatically before lowering her head to where her breath fanned across my cheek. “But in spite of all that, I love you, Callum.”
I’d never heard those words said so genuinely from a woman outside Mam and Maeve. Over the years, women I’d fucked for long periods of time had whispered it thinking it would bind me to them. But I knew it wasn’t true. Maybe they loved my money or my power or my darkness, but they didn’t truly love me. Caterina didn’t care about my money or power, and hating my darkness, she loved me in spite of it.
“Fuck. Why do I have to be dying for you to tell me that,” I teased.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s the truth. I swear it on the saints.”
Rubbing my blood-stained thumb across her chin, I replied, “I’m not worthy of your love, Kitten.”
“Of course, you’re worthy of my love. You took a bullet for me! How could I not love you? How can I ever thank you?”
“You don’t owe me any thanks, Kitten. If I’d left you well enough alone at the Sacred Heart, you would’ve never been in danger today.”
Her lips hovered over mine. “I’d gladly take the danger if it meant being with you and the life we’re building.”
She was right. The danger–even getting shot up–had been worth it for her. “If I am dying, I should be making penance for my sins.” I smiled up at her. “For all the terrible things I’ve done in my life, there’s only one I won’t ask forgiveness for.”
“What’s that?” she hiccuped between her cries.
“Don’t be daft, Kitten.” I winked at her. “It’s kidnapping you.”
She huffed an exasperated breath at me. “I’m not surprised you won’t seek penance for that.”
“How could I when the last six weeks with you have been some of the best of my life?”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Aye, Kitten. My only regret is I didn’t get to come inside you. It would be comforting to know I might’ve left a part of me with you in our child.”
My comment caused her to sob openly again. At that moment, two of the finest surgeons in the Boston area, who happened to also be on our payroll, entered the room. “Give me a kiss, my love.”