Page 78 of Bedlam
“We shall, brat,” he snarls, releasing me as Dario saddles up next to me.
“How did you sleep?” He asks.
“Solid, I think. I didn't wake up hauling ass to the bathroom seventy-five times, so that’s a plus.” I laugh as he cups my face.
“Good, but it’s natural to get nauseous. It means the babies are healthy and growing,” he says, and I can’t help but swoon for this man.
“Have you been doing research?” I ask, and he laughs.
“No, I ordered baby books for us to read,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“You guys weren’t kidding about this whole obsession, huh?” I say, and he shakes his head excitedly.
“You don’t know the half of it, Kitten.” He says, taking my hand and leading me to the front door as Spade tosses me a black hoodie.
“It’s chilly this morning. Keep my babies cozy in there.” He smirks and I roll my eyes. For fucks sake.
Sliding the hoodie on, I take an extra second and inhale the scent.Woodsy-vanilla and weed.I stumble back as my vision goes white to see Spade standing outside of my garage looking wild as he cups my face. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but his lips are telling me he loves me. A tear falls from my eye as someone or somebody holds my hips and helps finish putting the hoodie over my body. Spade’s face comes into the light and I blink and blink again.
“Babygirl. What did you see?” He says panic-stricken.
“Us, and you telling me you love me.” I confess as tears stream down my face. He wipes them away as the others walk out the front door, giving us a minute.
“Don’t cry, Jade. I do fucking love you. And I’ll tell you every single day for the rest of my life until you believe it.” He shouts with a big smile on his face. I grip his shirt, pulling him down to me.
“I already believe it. I feel it, but I just want to remember it.” I whisper, and he slams his lips against mine, kissing me like it's the last breath he’s going to take. I slide my hands up his back as he pulls me in closer to him, letting him take over the kiss. The way his tongue flicks mine, and how slowly he explores my mouth, makes me want to strip for this man and submit to his every want and need. Fuck. He pulls away too soon, leaving me pouting.
“Mine.” Kiss. “Until.” Kiss. “Death.” Kiss. “Do us.” Kiss. “Part.” Kiss. “Wifey.” He says with a smile.
“Why does that sound so perfect leaving your lips?” I ask and he shrugs.
“I don’t know, baby, but let's go blow some shit up.” He says, placing his hand out. I nod, taking it as he leads me to the Ram with the others. Jameson was so happy to see his baby parked here. He’s very meticulous about his belongings and doesn’t like people touching his stuff. I find it funny watching him lose his shit. I’m just waiting for the pot to boil over and see what he does. I’m low key interested in seeing The Carver, but the other part of me keeps warning not to bait him.
Spade opens the door for me and helps me into the lifted truck. Jameson immediately grabs the seatbelt and makes sure I’m safely secured in my seat. Rolling my eyes, I change the station and the growl that leaves his throat is laughable.
“Jesus fucking Christ. What other rules are there? If I would’ve known that I couldn't touch the radio, I would have taken my own damn car.” I seethe.
“Never touch my radio. I have a certain music taste, and you missy, will not play Dj in here.” He states and I look at him with narrowed eyes.
“I’m not listening to your country music. So, I might as well go in my own car,” I say, reaching for my belt and he growls again.
“Move a fucking muscle and watch what happens,” he grits and I’ve about had it with his attitude.
“What the fuck is your problem? Do you think just because I don’t remember you, that I’m scared or intimidated by your bullshit, because sir, let me give you a fucking clue. I–”
“Enough, the two of you. Let’s get this fucking job done.” Dario orders and I fold my hands over my chest and huff.
“I don’t miss this shit at all.” Spade grumbles as Jameson turns the volume up and sings to ‘Cry Me a River’ by Justin Timberlake. I stare out the window, trying to bite back a laugh as we fly through the streets of Whitestone wanting to get this partof the day over with. I could’ve let them do this by themselves, but I need to check my old room for my pistols. I can’t remember for the life of me the last time I had them, and the guys insisted that they were in the safe in my room. I want my babies, I feel naked without them. My other guns just don’t have the same weight that Thelma and Louise do, so putting them on my shoulder holster feels very heavy and I don’t like it.
Getting nauseous, I roll down the window some and let the cold crisp air whip around my face. Taking a deep breath, I roll it down all the way and lay my head halfway out the window.
“Princess, that’s not very safe,” Jameson states, but I don’t listen. I need air and the chilly wind makes me feel alive.
Looking over at him, I flip him the bird and shut my eyes.
“Let me live my life, asshole. The cold feels amazing.” I shout, and he shakes his head.
“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Can we do something together?” Spade asks, and I internally groan. Which I know I shouldn’t because D’mitri never treated me the way these guys do, and that fucker and holidays didn’t mix. Pulling my head back in the window, I stew on what we could do.