Permanent Lines (31 page)

She wrapped her arms around his waist, a smile full of love and appreciation creeping
across her face. “Thanks,” she whispered to him again, holding him tight.

“My pleasure, honey,” he said before kissing the top of her head and stepping back.
He held his hand up to the rest of us. “Take care, you all.” He nodded before starting
for the elevator. Miles and Kayla followed.

“Take care, Stewart,” I called from where I was leaning against the side of the couch.

He didn’t answer, just smiled before saying goodbye to Kayla and Miles and stepping
into the open elevator.

After the elevator doors shut, Amelia turned and fixed her focus on me. My eyes met
hers as she walked to where I was standing, gripping my hand and almost petting it
with her other one. “Please don’t be mad, babe.” She was almost begging, her voice
sweet. “I had to keep Uncle Stewart’s and my relation quiet. I promised I would if
he helped.”

I looked at her blankly before deciding what to say. Her face was still glowing, her
eyes the only thing I could see. I could never get mad at her—disappointed, maybe,
but I could definitely understand her point. It wasn’t something stupid and small
that she kept from me. Stewart was a huge part of Operation Kill that Fucker. We needed
him. I got it. I just hate not being in the know.

I licked my lips before caressing her cheek with the back of my free hand. “I could
never be mad at you, baby,” I said softly. “You’re a brave-ass woman. I could never
fault you for looking out for our best interest.”

Her eyes sparkled before her mouth met mine. I cupped the side of her face as we yet
again slipped into our own little world, kissing each other like no one else was in
the room.

Our foreheads touched as our lips separated; she smiled before pecking my lips again.
“I love you so fucking much.”

A few days later, we were outside … walking the streets in freedom. Well, kinda. I
was on crutches, hobbling around like a fucking pussy, but I was out in public, breathing
the fresh air, Amelia by my side.

I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was like a new version of herself. She was carefree,
happy, and more witty and fun than I had ever seen her … even more than the first
night we met.

“You know you’re nuts, right?” she asked as I hobbled alongside her.

“Seems accurate.” I grinned.

We were walking from Kayla and Mile’s apartment back up to mine. We were officially
out of the downtown place and staying temporarily at
the
penthouse while they were gone on a business trip. I was told that my flat wasn’t
livable at the moment, but I wanted to see it for myself.

Miles arranged for his contractor to meet us there to appraise the damage. In so many
ways, it was useless, because I didn’t have that kind of money just laying around.
I was a paycheck to paycheck kind of guy, my race money the play money, but I wanted
to at least see it, see what it was going to take to get it up and running … someday.

Exhausted and in pain, we finally made it. The windows and door of the bar were boarded
up just like Miles said they would be. I shook my head and cursed the fucker that
did this. I was so happy he was ten feet under, getting what he fucking deserved.

Amelia wrapped her arms around my waist, knowing the ache that the sight gave me.
This bar was my baby … my first baby. It gave me the step that I needed in life. It
gave me second chance.

“Merrick?” A man dressed in faded blue jeans and a worn out t-shirt came up beside
us.

“Yeah.”

“Chris Miner,” he said, extending his right hand, his other holding a clipboard.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, shaking his hand. “This is my girlfriend, Amelia.”

They both smiled as they briefly shook hands.

“So this place is yours?” He turned to look at the front. “Miles told me it was in
rough shape. Hope the guys that robbed this place got caught.”

I grinned devilishly at Amelia. “Something like that,” I told him, kissing the top
of Amelia’s head.

“Well, let’s take a look inside, see what we can salvage and what’s going to need
some work.”

“Got a crowbar?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.

He chuckled, pulling a hammer from his tool belt. “This should work.”

He pulled back each corner of the board until it fell. There wasn’t a door. Fucker
yanked that shit right off.
Awesome
. It was on the ground nearby, thankfully, allowing Chris to examine it.

“It’s actually okay. Just needs a new piece of glass and hinges.”

“Look at that,” I joked, moving further in.

There were bar stools thrown everywhere, the cash register torn from the counter,
the mirror against the wall shattered. It actually wasn’t that bad, just a mess. Apparently
someone had fun tossing stools around.
Power-raged fuck!

Same thing was up with the kitchen; just a clusterfuck, but nothing crazy. I was beginning
to feel optimistic. Opening up in the near future probably wasn’t too farfetched.
Chris continued to write things down as we walked through and the list seemed doable
enough.

Next up was the apartment. No door again, but again, it was close by and salvageable.
I exhaled, annoyed, once we walked in. There was no floor, at least not a visible
one. It was a fucking disaster—the couch shredded, bed flipped and the mattress on
the other side of the room. The bathroom was … yeah, there wasn’t really one. Next
we walked into the kitchen. This time I had to chuckle, pulling Amelia close. It was
like a light was shining down on the only thing visible and alive, sitting above a
mess left by a tornado …

Our cactus.

It was sitting, untouched and perfectly fine, on the counter where Amelia left it.
It withstood the fucker, his gang, and the rampage they were on. It was sitting there,
full of life, not an ounce of neglect showing through.

I looked down at Amelia, who was staring at it too. Chris looked at us like we were
smoking crack, but I didn’t care. We were fucking cacti. We lived through our separation,
fought for what we had, and took down the most dangerous gambling ring on the East
Coast. We didn’t need anything. We didn’t need constant caregiving or pampering. We
were ruthless, fighting for us. The nurturing we needed was each other.

We were fucking cacti and would never let anything come between us. No matter the
storm that surrounded us, we would survive. We would still stand, untouched and perfectly
fine.

We were permanent.

“You ready for this, baby?” I asked as we walked into my buddy’s shop in Jersey.

“You have no idea,” she said, quickly pecking my cheek.

Connor came up front to where we were standing. “If it isn’t the Drake,” he greeted.

“What up, man?” I shook his hand before bringing him in for a loose hug.

“Chillin’, chillin.” He smiled. “This must be the Mrs.,” he said, turning his attention
to Amelia.

“Soon,” I told him, winking at her. There was no ring on her finger yet, but I was
working on it. I hadn’t had an income in a while; I was living off the last bit I
had, and Miles. God, I fucking hated saying that, but it was the truth. I
would
pay him back one day, though. That was for sure. And as soon as I got enough money
in the bank, Amelia would be mine on paper, too.

“Hi,” she smiled, “I’m Amelia.”

“Shit, dude,” he shook his head, checking her out, “she’s a winner.”

I punched his shoulder. “Get off my shit!”

He laughed. “You’re lucky I got one at home of my own, because shit …”

“And don’t forget the two littles,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah … the whole package. I got ‘em all,” he said, crossing his arms grinning
proudly, instantly becoming more genuine and not such a sarcastic scumbag.

“They good?” I asked.

“Perfect as can be, man.”

I smiled; he was a good guy and deserved the best. “Good to hear.”

“Nothing like it, my man.”

I pulled Amelia into my side. I knew there wasn’t anything like it because I knew
there wasn’t anyone that compared to Amelia. Having little babies with her … damn.
That would just be the icing on the fucking cake.

“So what are ya in for today?” he asked. “Adding to the sleeve?”

“Nope. Not me today,” I answered. “We need to get something covered.”

He raised a brow. “Ya gotta a good one, huh?” he asked, looking at Amelia.

“Not so much a good one,” she told him, “but one that definitely needs to be gone.”

He nodded his head. “We can do that.”

We walked back to where his station was set up, Amelia sitting on the big chair while
I took a seat on the one next to it.

“So you have any ideas of what you want to get?” he asked.

Amelia pulled the printed picture from her pocket.

He nodded his head and looked impressed. “Never done one of these before,” he admitted.
“But it’s much radder than doing another fucking flower.”

Amelia snickered. “Flowers are pointless,” she told him with a mischievous grin. “They
don’t last.”

It was just after three in the afternoon when Kayla came waltzing into the bar. I
hadn’t seen her in what felt like forever. She and Miles had just gotten back from
their month-long honeymoon cruising around the Atlantic on the yacht that Miles’ parents
bought them for their wedding gift. I know—who gets a yacht for their fucking wedding?
But anyway, she looked as beautiful as ever, hair pulled up in her usual discombobulated-but-worked-on-her-bun,
sunglasses on, tanned skin, and a smile that reached both sides of her face.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I asked as she pushed her sunglasses up on her head
and took a seat on an empty bar stool.

“Oh, ya know, just got back from lounging around on my private yacht; nothing crazy,”
she joked, acting all extravagant and making me chuckle. “What’s new with you?” she
asked, helping herself to a glass behind the bar and some soda from the dispenser.

My smile turned devious. I wouldn’t be able to hold onto my secret. Kayla and I told
each other everything; there was no way I could keep this news in. I pulled my left
arm, which I had been strategically hiding since she walked in, out from behind my
back, holding it up to reveal the shiny silver ring around my finger.

“What? Are you kidding me?” she shouted, standing up to get a better look at it. “When
did this happen?”

“Um, we may or may not have taken an unannounced vacation to Vegas after your wedding.”

“You got married in Vegas?!” she continued to shout.

I couldn’t stop laughing at her loud excitement. She was hilarious to watch.

“Yup.” I nodded my head proudly. “At one of the Elvis wedding chapels and all.”

“You’re kidding, right? Am I being punked or something?” she asked, looking around
for some hidden cameras to appear.

I chuckled again and shook my head. “I’m serious. You wanna see the license?” I pointed
to the upstairs where we had it filed.