Devour You

5

Victoria

A 3 hour drive. Leaving the airport, that is how long it took to arrive back to Detroit, to arrive at my house. Because it seems no matter which public airport we stopped at in between; law patrol lurked everywhere.

Three hours is what it took for a clear coast. How long? How long until we do get caught? Rio can vesture some ridiculous scarf to hide this baleful tattoo, and even pass the pointless and solemn discussions that I've begun about him hiding the ink, he still refuses.

What's left for me to do - for the police to not to seek me as a suspect or criminal once more - is to hide.

Rio hates that. He told me I should embrace it, such a crime life, this criminal field I manage to fall back into every time I chose him. And coming from me, I will always, always chose him.

As the gangster walks beside me, my brown eyes peer over in his direction. Following into my steps, Rio makes his way smoothly up my front porch - the thin strips of the heavy black duffle bag firm in his grasp.

"What do you do with that kind of money?" I gesture toward the bag, and Rio glances over to meet my gaze. I plant either of my two feet just outside my front door, watching him.

The tall gangster licks his full lips momentarily, his dark brown irises flicking up to grasp mine. "That's all part of the business, hun." He sighs, shifting in his dark button down shirt. "You'll know when I show you."

"And when is that?" I ask firmly. "You say you're going to show me...everything. But it has been two weeks, Rio. You haven't shown me yet." I add matter-of-factly.

"Yet." He responds lowly. I watch Rio avert his gaze onto the duffle bag in his hands, reaching down to pull the zipper. Out he delivers five thick stacks of cash; and he brings it up to my face for me to claim it, I presume.

My brows raise in surprise at the five bands in the gangster's grip. "I'm not taking that." I confirm. "That dirty money is yours, Rio. Not-"

"Take it." Rio interjects, his voice laced with a steep domineering tone. He doesn't lower the cash in his hand. He shakes his head, licking his lips again.

"Better get use to the dirty money baby, you'll be working with it pretty soon." Rio states solemnly, before his thick brows furrow, seemingly in realization. "Oh wait, but you already are." He purses his lips to suppress his mischievous grin.

I stand in place only to blink at the gangster, watching his tall frame blankly, before an exasperated sigh escapes my lips. "OK, say if I do take it..."

"You will." He concludes, his tone hinting certainty as his dark irises glint with mischief under the porch light. In turn, I deliberately shake my head, taking in a low breath.

I reach for his hand, collecting the band of cash. Rio's warm hand merely brushes against my own a brief second, before he grazes my skin. If it wasn't obvious the hand graze was intentional...

I swallow lightly, bringing the money in my grasp back to my side. "So, why'd you give this to me?" I question him softly.

Standing before me, the gangster smirks. "I'll hold onto that answer for later." He says huskily. And my pulse quickens - annoyance beginning to boil within me.

"Rio..." I spit, before the gangster's taller frame turns his back on me. Rio skips down my porch steps.

"Don't worry, darlin'. This business of ours, you've already started." He claims, turning to peer over his shoulder back at me. My feet are glued onto the cemented surface of my front porch, still. "But um, things are gonna get messy, I'll give you that. And to answer your question, about the cash," He flicks his glinting gaze down to the thick stacks in my hands again.

"Think about what you said on the plane. About what it always comes down to and whatnot." He says - his full lips quirk up to form a grin once more - before he turns around to head off and enter his sleek black BMW parked in my driveway.

I stand on the desolate porch alone with my thoughts. And it doesn't take a sliver of deep thinking to place just what the gangster was referring to.

My affection and inevitable feelings for him have already been established. But his own? The way he feels? Not so much.
Unless, the clue that just rolled from his own tongue gave me the answer to my question.

I run a tiresome hand through my brown hair, and release the breath I didn't realize I held. Maybe I'm just remembering what I want to remember, and gathering only what I want to gather - because I may know the answer about the cash I just received; why he gave it to me.

I spin on my heel, turning to unlock my front door. I step inside, the cool air from the AC smacking against my skin the moment I shut the door behind me. I lean my back on the wooden door, tucking a strand of my slightly disheveled brown hair behind an ear.

I was nervous. His hand was warm in mine, comforting my anxious frame the whole flight, high in the clouds. As long as you know how to protect yourself, he said. I asked him about the cost of doing so. And the cost can be crossing a line, when it comes to the people you love, he concluded in his husky tone.

And love - how it always comes down to that, those were my words.

He gave this money to me because he loves me.

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I am so tired! I hope you guys have a blessed night. Love you all, truly!

Lots of love,

xx