My Future Husband

Chapter 87

Time to stop running, Beaut.

“Do you want to lose him?”

“N-No.”

“Then don't.”

“May, he wasn’t even mine to keep before this... and now...” She whimpers again as I rest her head on my shoulder. “I hated myself as soon as I got home, I couldn’t even tell mum what I did. He’ll hate me, he should hate me... I hate me.”

“He won’t hate you.” Ty’s not capable of it. “Does it make you like him any less knowing who he is?” She shakes her head.

“No, I thought maybe it would, but it hasn’t. Every time I see his pics I just want to run back to him... but I don’t want to fuck up either. I tried researching but it’s all so confusing, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing that just hurts him more.”

The fact you even feel this way is proof you won’t hurt him. You’re trying, you want to learn, and you still can’t stop fucking thinking about him, that’s all that’s important.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but Ty's one of the good ones. He’s also really open and understanding, it's one of the few things he doesn't have in common with his twin.” That makes her chuckle. “Go talk to him, ask him all your questions, he'll appreciate that. Then decide what happens. I just hope you know how special you are, because believe me, he’s never let anyone else get this far.”

We sit until her sniffles stop, until we’re both so cold we have to escape back into the empty hallway just to heat up.

“May, can you do something for me?”

“Anything, babe.”

“Can you teach me how to sign some stuff?” You know what, I think these two are gonna be just fine.

We sit on the staircase until the cafe is almost ready to close, me teaching her all the basics and a few extras she can use to win him over, before I tell her to go get her fine ass in her tightest jeans and get over to that house.

I’m in the hospital for a few weeks, and this whole family falls apart without me.

“I can close up, sweetie.”

“Val, you've done practically everything already, I just need to knock off the machines. Get in Milo’s car with Heather and Liam, go home, you’ve done more than enough.” She tries to argue with me, because apparently she's afflicted with the same disorder as her son that prevents her from realizing it's a useless task, before I push her out the door myself.

It’s so good to be back behind this counter, putting on my apron again, wiping the tables, running my fingers over the coffee machine like I’m caressing an old lover.

Me and you are about to have a lot of fun together.

“Am I too late to order a coffee?” Fuck. I’d know an Italian accent anywhere.

It’s okay, not all Italians are in the fucking mafia! You don’t even recognise his voice, just turn around.

“Not at all, what kind of coffee can I get...” Mafia. Mafia. Mafia!

He’s got to be over six-three, wide enough to fill my counter, sunshine blonde hair and one piercing blue eye... I’m guessing the other one used to be the same, before someone sliced right through it. Now it's just crystal white.

Shit.

“What would you recommend?” He’s got that aura, one that makes my skin tighten. Power and destruction, his hands clean but you can still smell the blood on them.

He smiles at me, and it sends a shiver crawling down my spine.

Don’t show it, they can’t know who you are, so never fucking show it.

“Well this late in the evening I usually recommend decaf, but you strike me as a rebel, so how about an expresso?”

“You know me well, an expresso it is.” My fingers threaten to tremble, but I clench my jaw as I turn from him and force them to remain calm. Stop it, you can’t freak out. Maybe he’s not even mafia, maybe he's just passing through. “You must be Belle.”

Or not.

I become very aware I’m the only person down here with him. No customers, Val long gone, Kage passed out upstairs. I’m alone.

“I’m sorry, we don't have a Belle working here. You sure you got the right place?” I don’t look at him, I just pour the coffee into a to-go cup. How hard would it be for them to create a hot Batman signal to call Antonio? Because I need one!

“I see. It appears I am mistaken, you have my most sincere apologies... Sorry, bellissima, I did not catch your name.” Yeah, you won’t be.

Pull your shit together. If he’s looking for a Belle, you don’t do anything to make him believe he’s found one! Don’t back down!

I’m gonna throw up.

“So what happened there? Shark attack, or did you get on the bad side of a lion?” He smirks when I turn to face him with confidence, staring right at the scar that runs down his face. Someone got him good.

“No lion, just an untamed tigress. Women often become volatile while emotional, would you not agree?” There’s something really fucking wrong about him. I can’t explain it. He’s just... wrong.

His soul isn’t inside his body, his aura completely black.

I’ve met killers in my time, but this, this has me clutching the kitchen knife under my counter and wishing I was upstairs with my fucking gun.

“I guess that depends on how much you piss them off.” Don’t shake. Don’t fucking shake. My heart is pounding, I’m having to hold my breath so it doesn’t come out as a quiver. His eye rakes over me, before finally his fingers brush against mine as he takes the coffee.

He’s ice cold.

“Thank you, you have been most helpful.”

“I just made you a coffee.”

“No, little butterfly, you did far more than that.” Butterfly.

I’m no one’s fucking butterfly. Not anymore.

“I need to lock up for the night, will that be all?” I’ve been almost perfect, but there's a break in my voice on the last word, just the tiniest bit of fear leaking out that makes him grin like a snake.

“I believe that will be all... For now. I hope we meet again, Maybelline.”

Maybelline... I didn’t... I didn’t give him my name.

“It is on your apron.” Oh fuck yeah, I forgot about that.

He makes no hurry to leave, walking slowly, assessing every door and window of the cafe, even stopping outside to look back in on me in a way that has me clutching the knife tight enough to break it.

Stay the fuck away from me.

“May?” I swing, pointing the knife in the direction of the voice, only for it to miss Dad’s face by an inch. “May! What are you doing?”

Oh fuck!

The knife clangs on the floor. I look back out the cafe window but he’s gone, the door still swinging back and forth from where Dad came in the back, Teal still in his arms looking just as worried as I am.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! There was this guy in here, he just freaked me out so I held the knife and-”

“A guy? What guy?” Dad hands me my son, marching straight up to the cafe windows and looking out. “There’s no one outside, but lock up anyway. I’ll have Hannah come down in the morning and you can tell her, okay?”

“Yeah... Yeah, okay.” Why the fuck am I being like this? Yeah he was an Italian with a scar, but what did he do? He just ordered a fucking coffee, that was it. “Help me lock up?”

Dad double, then triple checks all the doors and windows, before going into full father-mode and offering to carry me upstairs.

I’m fine, it was just weird, but I’m fine...

Right?