Charity's Passion
Authors: Maya James
Charity’s Passion
By Maya James
Copyright © 2014 Maya James
All rights reserved
Charity’s
Passion is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
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Acknowledgements
As always, a special thank you for the ladies that beta read and edited Charity’s Passion and really made it better. Keep the comments coming!
Thank you Warriors! You are the best!
Becky Paprota-Martindell
Shay Lich
Crystal Marie, Little House of Edits
A special thank you to Robin Harper at Wicked by Design for the cover work.
I
could never properly explain to her why I do this, but I also I don't think I'll ever be able to stop myself from doing it. It's an impulse that my words cannot do justice to describe. She thinks it's adorable, something I do to be cute, and I let her believe that. The truth is, there's much more to it. Mornings are when I find the peace that keeps the rest of my life in order. Something as small as this little ritual can be so important that my life almost depends on it.
While I'm doing it, I go right back to the very beginning, back to the comfort of the Manhattan Grill on the night that my heart stopped and the air was trapped in my lungs. At that moment I had thought my life was over, and I was right. The miserable existence that I thought of as life up until that point was most certainly over. Thank God for that.
Thank God for Charity.
From that moment on I've had something new and better, something worth living for—something worth killing for. All I want to do for the rest of my new life is love her and make her love me. Anyone that gets in the way of that will be eliminated—painfully.
My eyes trace the beautiful contours of her face, those perfect, sexy lips, and full cheeks. Her eyes closed so lightly I always expect them to open at any second and catch me staring at her, which they eventually always do.
When I wake up next to her, my first need is always to see her face, before I breathe or move, I have to see her. It brings me back to that first time at the Grill. Every morning, I get to relive it; that makes me the luckiest man alive. I get to fall in love with her over and over, and all I have to do is wake up beside her.
I hate business trips that I have to take without her, fucking hate them.
When I'm away I still wake up early and as soon as I'm conscious I grab my phone and log into the webcam that I had installed in the ceiling fan above our bed. It's not the same, not really, but it's better than nothing. I'm off balance when I don't wake up to her.
So, I'll keep letting Charity think it's cute that I wake up and watch her sleep every day. She doesn't have to know how much I need and depend on it.
She takes a deep, peaceful breath and I know she'll wake up soon.
I'm worried about her. She's brave to the point that it's hard to keep her safe the way I like to. Months have passed since she took care of the John Fillmore problem with a bullet through his brain, but we're not any closer to locating Brian Marker. Now is the time to get worried. If it was me, if I were him, I'd wait, crawl into a safe hole someplace and give it time for everyone to become complacent. And now everyone is—even Charity.
The safer we all think we are, the more danger we're in.
Killing John had been hard on her, more than she had expected, more than she had admitted to anyone other than me. Charity was an angry woman, a dangerous thing as John found out, but she's no killer. She didn't shed a single tear, he didn't deserve one, but her body trembled for days. It was heartbreaking for me not to be able to help her through it or be able to take away her pain.
That was the last time I ever want her to do something like that. Had I been stronger, not laying in a hospital under tight security and a fake name, I would not have let it happen.
I'm out of that end of the business as soon as Brian Marker is dead, no more. I'm done. I don't care about myself, but my life includes her now whether I want it to or not, even at work. I live now only to keep Charity safe and nothing else. I’d lose it if I couldn’t protect her. I'll make sure Garrett is completely trained to run the team and I'm taking over the safer functions left open by John's absence in the office. The same will happen for Lena, her role at Panther Inc. is expanding until she will have nothing more to do with the team other than consulting. Trisha is assisting her now, and that is working well for both of them. I see Trisha finding out the truth at some point, no matter how hard we hide it, especially with her interest in Garett—and his obvious interest in her.
Something will happen soon, I can feel it. Getting rid of John was only the beginning of the end. Time hasn't healed the wound of his death as much as I wish it had. He was with me for so long; he was more like a brother to me than a friend, and it left a hole filled with rage. There’s nothing I can do with the anger I have inside for him. I want to knock his fucking teeth in, but he’s not around to do it. I still can't believe he tried to have me killed—
twice!
The prick.
Charity rolls gently to one side. Her beautiful face slides closer to me and I feel the calm wash over me.
John's wife is absolutely devastated by his disappearance. She still believes he will show up at some point, but lately I can see the painful doubt beginning to seep into her eyes, like rusty water, diluting her tears. We comfort her the best that we can, it's not her fault what he did, and that's more than he deserves, the fuck-hole he turned out to be. She deserved better than him, but fortunately she'll never know that.
I'm grateful John didn't go after Charity to get to me. He could have easily used her and I would have been a puppet on his strings, and I’m sure he knew it too. That may have been the last, tiny little piece of human decency that he had left in him. I know Marker won't be so decent, especially if he knows that Charity pulled the trigger on John. That makes her as dangerous as the rest of us, and fair game for him.
My gut tightens at that thought.
We have to wait for him to make a move; to poke his head out from beneath whatever rock he's hiding under. Arthur Shea helped us with all he could, part of the conditions of the truce between the two groups, which do not even feel like separate groups at this point. Both sides see benefits to treating Senator Lewis more like a merger than a pawn for now. John Roberts has the majority control. Shea told us everything he knew, how he made contact with Marker, how he paid him, where they met, but none of it led anywhere. Marker knew better, cut all his services and went under, just like I would have done.
So we wait.
Charity takes another long breath, a sign that she’s almost awake now. I see the rest of my life with her clearly, and I want it.
How can I not adore her? She's given me my mother back, and a brother I never knew. Even though we have different fathers, and didn't grow up together, we are so much alike it's scary. Garrett is learning fast; he’s a fucking natural, and someone both Lena and I finally trust to take the team over. Malcolm and the others are accepting him easily. We see the light at the end of the tunnel—if we can live long enough to reach it.
It's been much easier getting to know Garrett than it has been to connect with my mother, not for any reason other than that it's hard to forget the hate, even when she doesn't deserve it at all. My mother is nervous, and so am I, each afraid to go too fast. Charity and Garrett both have reminded us that slow is fine, we have a lifetime now. Garrett, I trust with my life and Charity's, which is huge. I know him; I might as well have known him for years. I don't need lifetime. He's my brother, and he's put his life on hold right now to help us with the group and with Marker. I know he wants to get closer to Trisha, but he isn't allowing it. He insists Charity and I have to be safe before he will focus on anything else.
My eyes will be on Charity until this is done and she is safe. I don't want to know a day when I can't lay next to her full of anticipation just to watch her eyes open and be the first thing she sees. These moments reliving the first time I saw her can never end; I'll make sure of that.
I don't deserve her; she's much too beautiful. I'm smiling at her even though she can't see me. That's how she makes me feel. She makes me happy when she doesn't even know she’s doing it.
My hands gently grab the sheet that covers us and I slowly pull it down, exposing her sensual neckline and soft rise toward her breasts. As usual, she has on a white, sleeveless tank top with no bra on under it. I feel myself stir at the sight of her nipples jutting through the fabric. It's more than a sexual response, I feel her in my soul.
Charity's breathing changes, and her eyes slowly blink open. She sees me and returns my smile. I touch her lips with my finger and she puckers against it. "Good morning, Beautiful," I whisper.
"Morning handsome," she replies, her voice sleepy and cracked. Her angelic smile spreads across her tired face. "You're watching me again?"
"Always," I reply in a heartfelt whisper.
"You're so fucking cute," she says as she rolls even closer to me and places her soft hand on my face. "I love you."
Holy Christ! I just don't deserve her. She's too beautiful, too kind, and too amazing for someone like me.
"I love and adore you, Warrior."
I
step up behind Justin and put my hands on his strong back, feeling the tension in every sexy muscle. "Babe?"
The slight tilt of his head acknowledges me, but his face doesn't move from the window. He's been in protective mode for days now, more so than usual. Those sparkling green eyes barely leave the horizon, insisting that it's time for the past to come back for us.
I want to tell him that he's overreacting, but this is Justin. If he senses something, then it is coming. So instead I'm expecting it as much as he is. I watch what he does and even try to learn from him every way that I can.
Still, there's no way for me to foresee the absolute shock about to overtake my life this morning.
I rub his back and press my lips to his shoulder, feeling the smoothness of his shirt. It provides the reassurance that both of us need right now. We're in this together, as we have been since that first day at the Grill.
"You two look so happy here," Justin tells my mother, talking to her as she enters the room behind us before I even know she's there. "I'm thrilled for you both, and jealous—it's absolutely beautiful."
My mother is beaming when I look around over my shoulder and I love seeing her like this. Last week they closed on this property, their new house on Tingler Lane in Marathon in the Florida Keys. Our old house in PA hasn't been sold yet, but it's under contact and it will probably be gone in a few weeks. The sale of my father's business was so amazingly quick that it made my head spin. My parents were good with it, much better than me for sure. I think that was largely because my father wanted out so damn bad, and because he trusts the buyer, Anthony Conti. If it were anyone else taking over the business that Dad often referred to as his baby, it never would have been so smooth. After several months of searching for homes, their agent showed them this one and it was all over. It was ready for them to move in, not needing a damn thing done to it, like it was waiting for them.
