Leave Me Love(10)

"I'm going to take you to the range and teach you, but you'll have to take a safety class and register it and get a license to carry. Right now it's in my name."

I took it from him and felt the weight of it, then aimed it at a plant. "It feels good. Not too heavy, but not too light."

He smiled. "Good. You'll become an expert in no time."

I put the gun back in its box as he handed me the next gift.

"Because I wanted you to have something just for fun as well," he said.

This box was smaller, and when I opened it I gasped. "It's beautiful." A diamond heart hung from a white gold chain.

He took the necklace out and put it on for me. "You are my heart," he said, kissing my neck.

"Thank you. For both of them."

We settled back into the couch and fell into a companionable silence as we held each other.

City lights flicked on below as the stars struggled to compete in the darkening sky, the orange, red and yellow hues of sunset fading into black as a full moon took the sun's place. For those moments, with Ash's body warm against mine, his lips brushing against my hair and his hands and arms holding me close, my fears and pains and broken memories faded, replaced by a rare peace, a slowness of time that engulfed us and made everything not us disappear.

I didn't want the moment to end—and, for a while, it didn't. We sat there, silent save for the soft music still playing and the whirl of cars as people raced home to their families or out for a night on the town.

How many of them had been touched by terror? How many knew love, real love? How many had a happy home to go back to? I imagined all the families in the city, kids safe with their parents, thinking nothing bad could ever happen to them.

I hoped they were right. I hoped nothing bad would ever touch their lives, that they would never know what it felt like to fear for your life. To see the ones you loved most in the world killed in front of you. To never know who to trust.

Ash stroked my hair and pressed his lips against the top of my head. "You look far away. And sad."

I turned into him, resting my hand on his chest. "I was just thinking. Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if just one thing, one moment, had been different? If you'd made a different choice, what would that have changed?"

He nodded, his eyes unfocused. "I do. I have." He refocused on me. "But it doesn't pay to live in the past. We'll never know what could have been different, so all we can do is move forward and make the best choices we can now."

This time I nodded and, standing in front of him, I held out my hand and chose. "You never showed me your bedroom."

His smile brought out the dimple in his chin. "You're right. I was saving the best for last."

He led me through the quiet house and up the stairs to the third level. I couldn't imagine living here alone. Too many rooms. Too much space. I'd feel lost. Maybe that's what he liked about it.

My heart beat more frantically the closer we came to his room. We'd had sex, the night I killed Lucky. A hot, messy, needy affair that mixed sweat and blood and pushed away my pain with the endorphins of climax. And we'd had an intense moment in the hospital, when he'd bathed me. But this would be the first time we made love. This would be the first slow, deliberate joining of our bodies in something more than primal physical need, more than a one-sided pleasure. It seemed each time we became intimate, it was a first in some new way.

We stood in front of a mahogany door. "Close your eyes and wait here just one second." He disappeared into his room.

The darkness behind my eyelids turned a burnt red, flashing strange lights into my brain, sending a surge of panic through me. When he came back I was grateful, as I'd become afraid of the darkness in my own mind.

He held my hand, which I wiped against my pants to hide evidence of my nerves, and we walked into his room.

Candles of every size and shape glowed softly throughout. At the foot of the mahogany king-sized bed a fireplace burned bright with dancing flames skittering off the textured cream walls.

The room stretched wide and long, but had relatively little furniture in it. Ash liked open space, and his room reflected that. The bed, the fireplace, the side dressers on either side of the bed each with a small lamp, the large art pieces taking center stage on the sparse walls—each dramatic and engaging. A balcony overlooked the city and had a table and two chairs, and a walk-in closet held his clothes, all meticulously organized by style and color. The bathroom featured a Jacuzzi tub that could easily hold three adults, and a shower made for two with nozzles everywhere. I imagined sinking into the tub, soaking away my aches and pains, and smiled. Ash wrapped his hands around my waist. "I see we'll have to utilize the bath while you're here."