NERO: Chapter 85

The men are already filing down the driveway when I pull Mikhail’s car out of his garage. We’ve used our twenty minutes, and it’s time to clear out.

My rearview mirror shows dark plumes of smoke already billowing from windows of the mansion. And even though I’d love for this bright red, my-dick-is-small sports car to be a part of that burning mess, knowing I’ll send it to the chop shop as a final fuck you to Mikhail makes me feel better about taking it.

Payton groans a little as she settles further into the seat, and I make sure to take the corner slowly as I turn out onto the street.

“We’ll be home soon, Sweetness.” I rest my hand gently on her thigh, not sure where she’s hurting, not wanting to do more damage.

Her small palm covers my hand, so I flip mine over and lace our fingers together.

Her fingers squeeze mine. “Is that a plane?”

She mumbles the question a moment before her head lulls back.

The doc and her assistant were waiting at the front door when we got home.

I called her from the air, knowing Payton would be hurting from the car wreck. But no amount of preparation or experience could prepare me for seeing my girl like this. Laid out on our bed in her underwear, bruises covering most of her body.

Payton woke up while we undressed her, but didn’t ask any questions, just nodded when I told her the doctor was going to look her over. And I’m glad the doc was smart enough to bring her female assistant. Because if another man tried to even get a fucking glimpse of Payton right now, I’d likely rip his head from his shoulders, medical professional or not.

“I’m going to use an ultrasound to check for fractures, but that’s just a precaution. I don’t think anything is broken,” Doc tells us as she sets a laptop up on the nightstand before nodding to me. “While we’re doing this, you’ll get stitched up.”

If it wasn’t for the constant glances Payton kept taking at my torn sleeve, I’d’ve forgotten I was even shot. It’s just a tap. Barely a flesh wound, in and out of the bicep, but I’m not going to give Payton one more thing to worry about. So, I sit at the foot of the bed, my injured arm facing away from Payton, out of her sight, and I let the assistant do what she needs to.

Payton continues to stay quiet, answering questions about pain levels, moving body parts as requested, and I ignore the fact that the assistant doc just stabbed my arm full of Lidocaine without asking. It’s probably for the best, because simple gunshots are still a bitch to clean, and I have better things to focus on than suppressing my own pain.

Like Payton’s expression.

It’s so full of guilt and sadness, it makes my chest hurt.

Pain will pass. But those emotions…

What is she thinking?

Is she regretting ever meeting me?

Does she blame me? Hate me?

What if she asks to leave?

What if she demands to go back to her old life?

My teeth clench.

I won’t let her.

That’s what’ll happen. I won’t let her. I’ll make her stay, and I’ll make her remember that she loves me.

When my arm is bandaged, I turn more toward Payton, and place her feet in my lap.

The desolate look is still on Payton’s face when the doctor finally stands.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re a very lucky girl Miss Vawdrey,” the doc tells Payton, patting her hand, and I hate that I don’t have a last name to give her. “I don’t see any signs of fractures and the skin abrasions should all heal well.” My eyes move to the gauzy bandages around Payton’s wrists where the tape dug into her smooth flesh. “The concussion is the most serious matter, but all you need to do is rest.” The doctor moves her gaze to mine. “Keep her in bed. And keep her hydrated. Bright lights might bother her, so keep them low. The headache is normal. I’m leaving painkillers for her to take, that you can start in a couple hours, since I gave her a dose when you got here.” I nod. “Above all, keep her calm, and she’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” My voice comes out gritty, having not used it in so long. “Will you help me get her dressed before you leave?”

Payton shakes her head.

“Baby.” I kneel beside the bed. “There’s less of a chance of me hurting you if they help.”

Payton just shakes her head again, so I sigh and let the doctors leave.

I keep Payton in sight as I collect a small stack of clothing––clean underwear, a pair of sweatpants and one of my t-shirts. We work slowly, but together get her dressed in fresh clothes.

When I try to get her to lie back down, Payton shuffles up the bed so she’s sitting against the headboard.

“You need to lay down.”

She shakes her head, clutching at my hand.

I let her take it, hoping it’s a good sign. If she wanted to leave me, she wouldn’t want to touch me.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Her voice bursts out of her on a sob, and I’m instantly on the bed with her, pulling her to sit crosswise on my lap.

“Shh, Baby, no. You have nothing to feel sorry for.”

“It’s all my fault!” she hiccups, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

I keep one arm around her back, holding her to me, and use the other to lightly grip her chin, making her look up at me. “Payton, Baby.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “You did not start this feud. I did. I started it fifteen years ago when I slaughtered Mikhail’s family. He was just a fucking kid, so I let him live.” I shake my head. “I told him what a piece of shit his father was and I trusted him to grow up and do better. That’s on me. I should’ve ended his life with the rest of them, but I didn’t.” I kiss the other corner of her mouth, tasting her sadness. “And I have to live with that. I have to live with knowing that every mark on this beautiful body is my fault.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not.”

I press my forehead to hers. “It is. And I’m sorry.”

“But…” Her breath hitches. “The bodyguards. G-Giles. And the other car.” Her fingers dig into the front of my shirt. “And––”

“Not your fault.” I sway the smallest amount, rocking her with me. “I know this sounds callous, but the men that work for me don’t expect long lives. They know what they’re getting. And they know what dying on the job will get their families.” Money. Lots and lots of money.

“But if I hadn’t tricked Rob––” Her voice catches and for the first time in what feels like forever, I tell her something good.

“Robert’s fine.”

She tips her head back to look into my eyes, trying to see the truth in my words.

“He’s fine,” I repeat. “Or he will be. Until I fucking kill him myself for putting you in danger.”

“He’s really okay?” she asks, ignoring my threat.

If it wouldn’t upset her more, I’d absolutely put a bullet in the idiot’s brain. But now he owes me. He owes me a fucking life debt, and he’ll pay that back by being her shadow for the rest of his borrowed life.

Digging my phone out of my pocket, I send a quick text. “He’s fine, you’ll see.”

Setting my phone down, I cup her cheek. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Payton blinks those teary midnight eyes at me. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me what you need,” I plead with her. “Tell me how to make this up to you. Tell me what you want, Sweet Girl. Tell me, and I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

My heart is pounding in my chest, that underlying current of fear continues to plague me.

Payton raises a hand, placing it over mine on her cheek. “I want a big wedding.”

My mouth opens, but no sound follows.

Beneath my palm, her cheek plumps in a small smile.

“Say that again,” I rasp out.

“You already saved me. In so many ways.” Her pained expression softens. “You don’t need to do anything else, except keep loving me.” My heart clenches so hard it feels like it might crumble. “And I’d like a big wedding dress. One of those puffy skirt ones from the reality shows. And flowers. Lots of flowers.”

“So many flowers,” I agree, closing my eyes, seeing it all exactly as she describes. “With Toto as a ring bearer.”

As if on cue, there’s a soft knock on the bedroom door.

“Come.” I open my eyes and keep my arms around Payton, holding her in place.

The door cracks open and Payton gasps, seeing Robert’s face in the doorway, banged up, but fine, as promised.

He inclines his head, then steps back, allowing an overexcited Toto to shove his way through the door before Robert pulls the door closed, leaving the three of us alone.

Toto’s nails scratch across the floor before he launches himself onto the bed, wiggling against Payton’s side.

“And a live band,” I supply.

Payton nods, scratching Toto behind the ears when he drapes himself over my legs, his head at her hip. “And the best food. Too much of it.”

“Of course.” I kiss her forehead.

“Now let me ask you.” I inhale her scent, the essence of her beauty filling me. “Payton Vawdrey, will you marry me?”

“Let me answer.” She leans back, staring up into my love-filled gaze. “It was always going to be you.”