I cradle my hand around her face, whispering back to her. “I just have to go.”
She shakes her head. “But I don’t want you to go.”
Fuck.
“I live a really messed-up life, Diem. There is a lot of darkness and pain. I cause a lot of that. But I’ve never regretted it. Never felt bad about the people I hurt.” I swallow, letting Rookie’s definition of me resurface in my brain. “I’m not a forgiving guy. I don’t have remorse for my actions. I’m selfish and reckless and tarnished.”
“But you’re not like that with me,” she cuts in, her body curling deeper into my side.
I smile. “No. I’m not.”
“Why?”
At first, I’m not sure what to say. But something is happening inside me. I’m overwhelmed with a feeling. A feeling so intense that it stretches my heart to the point of bursting. My chest expands with pride as the knowledge registers in my brain. I love her. I already knew this, but for the first time, I really believe it. Love is a feeling that cannot just be felt, it has to be expressed—it has to be said, and my throat burns with the desire to tell her. So, I do. Without hesitation.
“Because I love you, Diem.”
She melts in my arms from relief. It’s like she’s been waiting for me to tell her this—like she needed to hear me say it to reassure her that this is the same feeling she has too. Her eyes become shiny with unshed tears as she gazes up at me with a look of longing. This is a Diem I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve ever seen her like this. And it will be the last.
“I love you too,” she breathes, and I can relate to her feeling of relief. She’d just changed my whole fucking life with three little words.
She loves me.
And suddenly, that’s all that matters.
* * *
I made love to Diem after that. We were the picture-perfect, Hallmark-card couple for the remainder of the night. But now it’s morning and I have to leave. And that sweet couple from last night is long gone.
“I’m not cooking shit. I’ve done told you that.”
“Babe,” I coo, grabbing her around the waist in the kitchen.
She stomps my foot, causing me to release her before unleashing her wrath on me once again. “What did I tell you about those pet names? If you’re hungry, eat some cereal.”
“We don’t have any milk,” I spit through my teeth, hopping around the kitchen on one foot.
“Well then take us out for breakfast.”
“Fine, I will,” I snap. And I do.
“So,” she starts, picking at her eggs. We’re in the Hillsborough Diner, in our same booth, and she has barely touched any of her food. “You’re really leaving.” I nod, staring at her, but she avoids my gaze. “I meant it when I said I didn’t want you to leave.”
“I meant it when I said I love you,” I tell her, offering her a smile when she raises her big dark eyes to mine.
“I know. I just don’t understand. Is this really good-bye?” I look away, watching as Rookie pulls into the parking lot. He’s here . . . ready to take me to my doom.
I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. She looks at our fingers, entwined together. “Look at me, Diem.” She does and I can see the hurt and confusion there, and I hate it has to be this way. I hate that I hurt her. And that I lied. “If things were different, I’d spend the rest of my life arguing with you. I’d let you cook me shitty eggs every morning.”
She smiles, shaking her head. “You know that will never happen.”
My smile dies when I realize that it won’t. “In another life, I could have made you happy. Really happy. I’d have done things different. I’d have made you my queen.” Rookie’s horn sounds and I know if I don’t leave now, we’ll miss our flight.
I stand and grab my bag. Handing her the keys to my truck, I shoot her a wink. Then, I leave her with my signature good-bye . . . the last one she will ever hear from me. “See ya around, pretty girl.”
20
DIEM
HE WALKED OUT the door and I realized he really was the one . . .
The one who’d just broke my heart.
21
SHADY
AT THE BAR in Jackpot, we’re all gathered for the meeting. There is no round table with our emblem in the center or thick, wooden doors separating us from the outside world. Instead, we’re on a patio sitting on coolers and broken chairs, smoking blunts and cigarettes and drinking beer. This concrete slab is where all important National matters have been handled since the beginning of time. Today, it feels no different.
“Dorian wants a meet,” Jimbo says, still unable to look me in the eyes. “Death Mob contacted them, said they had proof that Sinner’s Creed was killing their guys. They want to wage a war, but Dorian wants to hear everyone out first. Says he has an announcement to make and we all need to be there.”