The Killer's New Wife by Hamel, B. (uplifting novels .TXT) 📗

“That’s why you hate sex traffickers. Because of your mother.”

“Because I grew up in that house,” I correctly gently, but she was right, it was for my mother as well. “I saw what it did to women, how it broke them, how my father took advantage of them. He was the pimp, and he ran his little stable of girls with an iron fist. There was violence, and sex, and drugs, and I passed through my childhood thinking all that was normal. It still fucks me up most days, and I’m pretty sure that’s why I’m so broken.”

“Oh, god,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said. “This is why I rarely talk about it. I loved my mother and she was good to me, or at least she did the best she could. She was an addict, and she was stuck with my father, since he had the drugs, and he threatened to hurt me if she ever left. My father used her to the bone and then some, he worked her dry, he destroyed her, and I’m still sure that he caused the cancer that ate her from the inside.”

I stopped taking, unable to go on more. Tara came closer and touched my face then took my hands, then pushed herself against me and hugged me tight. I wrapped my arms around her and felt her warmth against my chest, her slow breaths, her beating heart.

I hated talking about my parents. I hated my past, and hated what it did to me, but Tara needed to know.

I killed her father for a reason. I killed him because I knew firsthand what men like him did to women, and if I could stop him, I would.

All those people in that party, they knew who I was, and knew where I came from. Son of a whore. Killer for a crime syndicate. I was a monster to them.

Except for Dean and his father. That was why I remained so loyal. They took me in, despite what I was, and didn’t treat me like trash.

“We should go back inside,” I whispered.

She pulled away from me, but before she could turn, I took her wrist and gently tugged her near. I kissed her then, and she returned it with a shocking passion. I held her in the dim light of the pool, hidden back in the garden, and considered stripping her dress from her body then and there, but managed to control myself.

“We’ll make an appearance inside,” she said. “Then we can get out of here, if you want.”

“I need you to understand something,” I said roughly, and she chewed on her cheek.

“What?” she asked, like she didn’t want to hear it.

“I’d kill your father again in a heartbeat,” I said. “I know that hurts to hear, but he deserved it. I’m sorry, Tara. I really am. I know something about having awful parents.”

“That’s the thing.” She smiled sadly. “He wasn’t awful to me. That’s why I’m struggling with it so much.”

I kissed her cheek, but she turned and began back to the party.

I followed after a moment. Now she knew the truth about me, the past that I wanted so badly to hide, and yet she hadn’t looked at me like I was a freak or a monster, and her taste still lingered on my tongue.

14

Tara

When we got back from the party at the Don’s mansion, I decided that I was going to marry Ewan.

It didn’t happen in a flash. It happened gradually, over the course of the night. After he told me about his mother, everything clicked into place: his anger, his hatred, his gentle touch. I suddenly understood why he killed my father, and why he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

He watched his mother get trafficked. He grew up in that world, and he despised it.

That was the start. Then I went back inside, and he made jokes with groups of rich men, was charming and outgoing. Ewan made the Don laugh, and introduced him with some pride to a group of businessmen that were thinking about doing business with the Valentino family.

I watched Ewan take his place amidst all those powerful people, and though he likely didn’t see it, he was a shining light among them. The other Capos paled compared to him, and I couldn’t stop staring at him for one second. He seemed to glow, and the laughter that followed him like baby ducklings was music and raindrops on pondwater.

I decided I’d marry him, not because it would be easy. It would definitely not be easy, but it was the right thing to do. It’d get me away from the Healy family, and Ewan could protect me. It would make the Don happy, and prove Ewan’s loyalty, and so much would fall into place.

What happened after that, I couldn’t say. Maybe we’d divorce. Maybe we’d make it real.

It didn’t matter. I made up my mind, and all that night I lay in bed tossing and turning, thinking about Ewan’s face as he told me about his mother out by the pool, his skin glowing in the moon, his eyes flickering in the light of the pool. I dreamed he undressed me in the garden and kissed every inch of my body.

In the morning, I emerged from my room, ready to propose. I found him standing in the kitchen, his face pale and drawn, his phone hanging limply from his fingers.

“Ewan?” I said.

The phone slipped to the floor and clattered away. It jolted him back into the moment and he blinked at me, surprised. “The Don’s in the hospital,” he said.

“What?” I took a step toward him. I knew the Don was a powerful force in his life, half father and half teacher. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” Ewan said. “Dean called. Something happened.”

“We’ll go right now,” I said. “Let’s grab our things and go.”

He nodded a little and picked up his phone. I saw the light come back to him, like he was