Page 114 of Beautiful Forever
“Up,” she says, lightly tapping each arm to raise them, so she can get under my arms.
“I appreciate you doing this.” It’s amazing how much better you feel when you feel clean.
Her ministrations cease, and she finds my gaze in the mirror. I lose the ability to breathe altogether when her lips press against my shoulder blade. “Anytime.” Taking a new roll of compression wrap from the black medical bag, she secures it around me. “Let me know if it’s too tight.”
“It’s not,” I croak.
Going back to the washcloth, she rinses it off and hops onto the vanity counter. Without realizing it, my hands mold to her upper thighs, pushing them apart wide enough for me to settle between them.
“I never thanked you.”
With the same care, she begins to clean my face. “For what?”
“For coming for me.”
Something in the air shifts between us. It’s like the power lightning holds right before it strikes the ground.
“I will always come for you.”
Going back to her work, she lightly dabs the cuts on my face and applies antibiotic ointment to each one. Being this close, her fragrant skin gives off the scent of the gardenia lotion she loves to use. The lights above the mirror catch in the gold streaks woven through the red of her hair as it falls in waves over her shoulders. Femininity forged with steel. Beauty and strength. A beautiful heart with a soul made of fire. There is no other woman on earth who can compare to her.
She traces a fingertip over the bratva tattoo on my chest. “What does this represent?”
“Brotherhood. It’s a symbol that is unique to each bratva family. The dragon around the circle is the mark of the Petrovs. Aleksei and I both got them.”
“When?”
“On our twentieth birthday.”
I remain absolutely still as she traces the design. “I like it.”
Swallowing thickly, I tell her, “I saw him. Aleksei. When I was in the room. It felt so real. Like he was right there with me. I talked to him.”
Her gaze lifts, and I stroke my thumb across the bruise on her velvet cheek, my conscience warring with my desire, longing, and love, knowing I’m about to alter everything between us with my confession.
“He made me promise to tell you something if I made it out of there alive.”
Her head lists to the side, just a fraction, and she nuzzles her cheek in my palm. “What did he want you to tell me?”
My pulse starts to pound wildly, a drumbeat that matches the disordered rhythm of my heartbeat. What if saying it broke everything? The friendship we’ve forged that means the world to me. Every laugh we’ve shared, every late-night talk, every quiet moment, every smile. I can’t lose her. Ican’t. But the weight of what I feel strangles me as each day passes, a slow suffocation of silence that I’ve endured since we were kids. And I can no longer contain the words. Staring death in the face has a way of stripping away all the denial and tossing caution out the window.
“That I love you.”
Her breath hitches, a soundless gasp in the quiet that follows. She takes my hands and holds the DEVIL and ANGEL inked across my fingers to her heart, then turns her gaze toward the doorway—and my stomach violently twists when I notice Tristan standing there, his expression set in stone.
Gently moving me from between her legs, Syn gets down from the vanity.
“Could you help get him back into bed?” she asks, raising on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Sure.”
Prepared to get my ass handed to me, I have no doubt that he’s about to finish the job Viktor didn’t. I’m a little wary when he doesn’t say or do anything, only takes a step back to let me hobble my way back to the bed. It takes a good minute for me to get comfortable. I hate feeling this weak, but I hate it more that he sees it.
Tristan props a shoulder against the bedroom jamb, and I start to squirm under his intense scrutiny.
“How much did you hear?” I ask.
“All of it.”
