My Heart Read online

  Blowing out a breath that ruffles my loose hair, Remy uses two fingers to chuck my chin up so my eyes find his. "Cuore Mio, you and I both know what I want." My poor little heart flutters at his term of endearment but I slap a scowl on my face to conceal my feelings. Remy looks at the mammoth who held me captive as he exits the car before turning his gaze back to me. Tracing his fingers along a particularly dark bruise above my elbow, "Who did this?” His tone has an edge of steel too it and I notice the men near me all stiffen slightly.

  With an annoyed huff I pull the tie from my mangled hair and begin fixing it into a high messy bun. Although I'm extremely pissed at the way things were just handled, I'm not about to out these men and have them subject to Remy's anger. “I jumped from the fire escape and landed on my side. Your men are lucky I went that route instead of shooting them in the face." I pause with a wince of pain as my shoulder tweaks at the angle it's being held. “Where is my dog Remy? If anything happens to him, I will find my gun and make good on my earlier pardon.” I slap my hands down at my sides once my hair is up and look at Remy again. His smile is back in place like my rant was cute instead of the actual threat it was.

  "You've always had a flare for the dramatics." He states while waving a hand at the car I came from. I open my mouth to give a sassy retort but he cuts me off as some men get inside and it drives off, "If you bothered to accept any of my calls or texts you'd have known I sent them and this little fiasco could have been avoided.” He says it annoyingly casual, like sending men over to kidnap me isn't a big deal. “And Dylan is at the house, no doubt terrifying the guards." This time I actually scoff. My pup wouldn't hurt a fly…unless you're breaking into our house. Dylan is the sweetest boy on Earth, one hundred and ten pounds of adorable fluff. Remy stares at me a moment, an unreadable expression crossing his face. "We're going home now. I'd rather continue this discussion with a glass of whiskey and you desperately need a shower. You forget deodorant again?" With that he turns and starts walking toward his own car, arrogantly expecting me to follow.

  Is he being serious right now? Fucking ass. I start scanning the ground for a rock or something to chuck at his retreating back. Won't be so handsome with a lumped up head. Right as I'm winding back my arm to catapult my rock, my arms are pinned to my sides and I'm being hoisted through the air, carried to Remy's car. "You fucking ass hat! Put me down!" I continue my screaming all the way to the car door where I am thrown inside and land very ungracefully in my husbands' lap. Tonight, isn't my fucking night. He's smiling at me while brushing my once again wild hair from my eyes.

  "I really did miss you Bev." I push myself up with a huff and turn to look out the window while crossing my arms like a pouting child. I can't do this right now.

  ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪

  The house is just as it was when I left; everything perfectly decorated, fluffed and polished. I smack over a decorative vase while walking in, not able to contain the sudden burst of anger at being back here and feeling the need to tarnish its pristine image. Shards of porcelain shatter and skid along the polished dark wood with a loud crash that seems to echo throughout the large space. A wave of bittersweet longing hits me in the chest. I long to belong here again without the pain of the past. I feel Remy at my back and spin, facing him with a nasty scowl. Catching me off guard he pulls me close, bergamot and vanilla wrapping around me like a familiar blanket. My heart twists up and skips a beat as I allow myself just a moment to give in, burying my face into his chest. I've had such a shitty day, week, three months. I desperately want him to be the one I can find my savior in. But then I come to my senses and remember why I left to begin with, why my days have been so shitty, who caused all of it and stiffen, pulling my face back.

  His nose brushes along my neck as he breaths out a deep sigh, trailing his lips along my skin. "You’ve had three months to hate me…come back to me Cuore Mio." It's whispered against my neck and I clench my hands at my sides to prevent myself from clinging to him. The pain in his voice calling out to my own like a lone wolf desperate for his pack.

  I wish it were that easy, to just forgive him, go back to how we were. But shit doesn't work that way. Wiggling out of his grip I frown up at him, "You don't get to decide how long I need." Spinning on my heel I stomp towards the staircase, ignoring his deep humorless chuckle. I don't look but I can imagine him running his hand through his hair with frustration. I tell myself I don't care even as more tears cling to my cheeks. I never realized how much of a cry baby I was until this whole ordeal; but I wasn't broken into jagged pieces then either. I wipe my tears away with annoyance, I'm tired of crying. What I desperately need right now is a hot bath, a long hot bath.

  As if reading my mind, I hear Remy call up the stairs after me, "Delaney restocked your bath bombs while you were gone."

  I hum in acknowledgment and continue into the giant master bath. It's decorated the same as the rest of the house with light greys, whites, and dark wood floors. This room is by far my favorite though, simply because of the giant, vintage claw foot tub sitting in the center. It's completely out of place with all the newer, expensive furnishings in this giant house but that's why I love it. We have a kinship this tub and I, neither one of us really belong but are forced to fit.

  Sighing as I turn on the water, I notice that my bath collection has in fact been restocked. Delaney, Remy's younger sister, is the only person in his entire family I actually enjoy being around. She's ten years younger than me and probably my only real friend. Remy's life doesn't allow a lot of socializing and the other wives are fucking terrible; I'd gladly take Laney over all of those stuffy bitches. I barely talked to her while I was gone, mostly out of fear Remy would find out and she'd be manipulated into trying to get me home. I was struggling on my own to stay away, I wouldn't have been able to handle her begging on top of it.

  Running my fingers through the various soaps, scrubs, and bombs I settle on a bomb meant for stress relief and toss it in. I could definitely use some damn stress relief right now. As I watch it starts bubbling and turning the water a pretty shade of purple. Baths have always been my magic cure all remedy. Sad? Bath. Stressed? Bath. Exhausted? Bath. If I could live in the bath I probably would, especially with the shit show state my life has currently been in. Taking the tie from my hair I get a whiff of something very unpleasant…What the hell is that smell? Picking up the discarded package it says lavender eucalyptus but it’s sending some very strong industrial cleaning vibes. I slap a hand over my nose to try and keep the stench at bay but it's sneaking through my fingers like a punch to the nostrils. Rubbing roughly at my eyes I huff out an annoyed breath and toss the wrapper into the trash. Of course this would happen right now. I'll just have to get used to it because I'm too tired and sore to start over and I’m not about to waste my bath. Peeling off my clothes and waving the air around my face I settle into the tub; it may smell like pine sol but it feels amazing.

  After what I can only assume has been forty minutes or so I barely notice the smell anymore and my muscles feel more relaxed. Doing a quick scan for bruises I find most of them on my arm and rib cage, only a few small ones scattered on my legs. I hear Remy rummaging around in the adjoining bedroom and dip under the water to wash my hair. I really missed being here. More importantly I missed my fucking husband and I want to pretend we are fine so badly it's almost physically painful to resist him. Pretend I never left, that I haven't been in misery. But that feels like a betrayal to Julian and I'm not ready to forgive him for that. It's confusing and honestly killing my bath vibes.

  Coming up for air I pull the plug and stare out the window as the water slowly drains. I have no idea what time it is, but the moon is high above the tree line surrounding the manicured lawn. Dylan loves running through the trees, chasing birds and catching squirrels. Living in my tiny, shitty apartment the last few months has been hard on him. I frown at myself for forgetting about my baby until now. Where the fuck is he? He’s normally attached to my hip and I haven't seen or heard him since
coming inside. I need to get my shit together and find my pup.

  Remy walks in just as I'm stepping out of the tub, his face scrunching up in disgust. "What is that smell?"

  I wave toward the bath while wrapping a towel around myself, trying my best to avoid eye contact while walking past him. "Stress relief, obviously."

  He mumbles something about pine sol before following me into the walk-in closet. I notice he's changed into a pair of loose sweats and a black tee. It's always been my favorite look on him; not only because it shows off his tattooed neck, arms and hands but because it always meant that his attention was all mine for the moment. He wouldn't dare hold a meeting or leave the house in anything but a custom fit suit.

  Turning my attention to the closet I see all my things are where I left them, not really that surprising, considering Remy had no intention of letting me stay gone. He watches me as I grab a pair of plain black cotton panties and I shoot him a look that says, you have to earn the cute shit, before dropping the towel and tugging them on. He's smirking at me now, muscular arms folded over his broad chest as he leans on the door frame. I pull out a pair of plain sleep shorts and a large tee, putting them on slowly, extremely aware of his eyes dancing over my skin. I decide to skip the bra, as usual, because they're uncomfortable and I'm going to bed soon anyway. He’s still silently watching me as I quickly braid my wet hair to get it off my face.

  "Where are you going?" His voice is husky from the peep show and it makes me want to smile, even though it shouldn't. I shouldn't care what he feels for me. I'm not sure how he knew I was heading anywhere but I don't answer right away.

  "I need to find Dylan. He's normally with me and I haven't seen him yet." He straightens as I brush past him, fingertips trail my hip, spinning me with a hand on my shoulder until I face him. My eyes are level with his inked throat and I keep them trained on the intricate designs. With a light chuckle he tilts my face up with his fingers until my gaze meets his.

  "Gretchen called him in from outside before she left for the night, she had extra dinner to give him. I'll help you find him...I don't trust you not to try and disappear on me." His thumb brushes across my split lower lip as he speaks, the last part of his sentence a raspy whisper. I feel my breaths quicken and try to stay focused. Remy's close enough I can feel his breath on my lips, a palm pushed under my shirt, resting on the curve of my waist. His closeness momentarily pulls my mind away from Dylan. I can feel my stupid little heart banging to get nearer to him and the devil on my shoulder whispering to let this rotten man back in. It would be so easy to lift up and let him devour me. My traitorous body is begging me to press into him, my hands involuntarily gripping his shirt.

  My heart doesn't understand why we can’t let this happen, why loving this man hurts so fucking badly when he is all we could ever want. The memories of Julian are still too fresh though, that pain still slicing ragged cuts through the same heart trying to stitch itself back together. I force myself to step out of Remy's touch, causing him to frown with something akin to confusion, his hand going up to run through his hair. I know I'm sending mixed signals, he's not the only one confused. I can see the well-hidden pain in his dark eyes and fuck if it doesn't feel like a knife to the gut. We need to talk but I'm so fucking tired…of everything. My night has been so long and my body is sore. I can't do this now; I just need to find my dog and go to bed.

  He stares at me a moment, looking between my eyes, hand twitching like he wants to reach for me. I’d be lying if I said I didn't want him too. He eventually sighs, “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Three

  We found Dylan outside with someone's boot. I honestly don't even feel bad or care. That's what they get for making us come back here. We're walking the fence line now, slowly making our way back to the house. The air is thick with unsaid words and heavy emotions that we silently agreed to pretend don't exist for the rest of the night.

  "Thank fuck he doesn't piss on my shoes anymore." Remy says as his fingers brush the inside of my wrist. He's been doing that since we started looking for Dylan, finding excuses to touch me and pretending he's not. I can't bring myself to tell him to stop.

  "He was a puppy; he didn't know any better." He laughs at this and I can't help but smile with him. He has the best laugh, deep and rumbling.

  "He was still doing it last year and he is not a puppy." His phone pings but he ignores it. Eyes on me as we walk.

  "He's only four Remy. Practically still a puppy."

  He hums in response with a dimpled smile. The moment is almost too normal and it makes my gut twist in knots. He must see the change in my expression and it disappears. I feel his phantom touch on my arm before he speaks, "I have an event coming up, some kind of dance bullshit I have to make an appearance at." He pauses as if thinking of what words to say next, "I would like if you went with me."

  With a sideways glance in his direction I can see he was nervous to ask. Apparently kidnapping your wife is less nerve wracking than asking her on a date. "Do I have a choice?" The words come out harsher than intended but I don't really care.

  "You do...but I'd like for people to see my wife is back." He runs a hand through his hair and stops me with a hand on my arm so I’ll face him. "I want people to see that we are together again. I'm tired of people whispering about us and trying to set up dates. I want them to know that you are here and staying."

  Looking at where his fingers are still touching my arm I answer, "Are we though? Actually together. I may be here but in case you forgot it was because I was kidnapped less than four hours ago. I didn't willingly come back." He steps closer and I step back, meeting his gaze. I can't let him suck me into his dark web. "If I get a choice then I'm not going." I start walking again and look over my shoulder at him, still standing in place. "Feel free to get one of those dates you mentioned…we are divorced so what does it matter who you bring?"

  I can practically feel the annoyance rolling off him and pelting my back. If I'm being honest the thought of him with any other date makes me want to hurl. I'm mentally begging him not to call my bluff and go that route just to spite me. But if I know my husband at all, he wouldn't do that.

  I was so lost in my thoughts I didn't notice him catching up to me until he's gripping my arm and pinning my back to a tree. "You know we aren't divorced. And even if we were, I'd still want you…its only ever been you." His sweet words are spoiled by the scowl on his face and angry tone. "You don't have to go with me. But wait to give me your answer."

  "You've always wanted what you can't have." I have to tilt my face up to look into his and it makes me realize how close we actually are.

  He grips my face in his palms, our noses just brushing, "Make no mistake Cuore Mio, you are mine. You are my first thought of the day and the last at night. You are my only passion and my most beloved treasure. You are my wife and you are my heart." Our lips are a fraction apart as he leans down even more, tilting my face closer to his. "I've tasted your lips, worshiped every inch of your body, experienced your sleepy side, happy side, sad side, every side. I've stood under the light of your beaming smile and I've burned under your wrath. No matter who you're with, where you are, what you're doing, your thoughts will always be of me just as mine are of you. Because you. Are. Mine."

  I must be holding my breath because I suddenly feel the burn in my lungs and hear my heart pounding in my ears. I release it in a slow, shaky exhale. Remy's words wind their way into the leaking cracks of my heart, wrap around my exposed throat in a tightening grip, ring in my ears like the bang of a gunshot. I can feel my bottom lip trembling with held back tears and my vision is starting to blur. His words are laced with a truth that singes my soul. "Maybe you're right Remy, maybe I am yours. But you're not mine...you chose that for me when you put Julian in an unmarked grave." He lets me slip from his grip and I angrily wipe the tears from my face as I walk away. So much for that silent agreement.

  "You know I didn't have a choice Cuore Mio." His voice sounds strained, begs for
my gaze but I keep walking. "We have to talk about this eventually Bev."

  Stopping, I spin around with clenched fists. He's only a foot or so behind me and he stops with me. "Exactly, eventually. I've had an incredibly long, shitty night, thanks to you. I don't want to deal with this shit tonight. I want one fucking night Remy. Then we can duke it out and see who bleeds the most, just not right fucking now."

  He looks between my eyes then gives a slight nod on an exhale. "Fine. But for the sake of avoiding future arguments tonight, I'm telling you now that you're sleeping in our bed with me."

  I roll my eyes and turn as we start to walk again. "I already assumed you'd throw a fit if I tried anything else."

  We've slipped back into a somewhat comfortable silence. Or as comfortable as it possibly could be. Dylan keeps sprinting into the bushes to chase little critters, coming back with a stick or pinecone every once in a while. We're getting close to the end of the path and back to the house; I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to it or dreading it. I'm not sure how I feel about actually sleeping in the same bed as the man I've been weeping for the last three months.

  He must be having similar thoughts because he smirks over at me, "You know they say hate sex is the best."

  I scoff and give him a look that says how ridiculous I think that statement is. That seems like the worst idea for us right now…and I most definitely don't hate him. Adding sex into the mix would twist up my already tangled and confused heart. "That's a terrible idea Remy. We can't even have a normal conversation without you making me cry at some point."

  He shrugs and slips his hands in the pockets of his sweats. "Worth a try, might help us sort things out." I shoot him a look and he puts his hands up. "Or not."