Irrevocably Mine (Imagine Ink Book 3) (24 page)

“Babe, we need to get down and spread out now, okay?” Stacy’s coherency was returning and she nodded.

While going to her stomach, she turned to him. “I didn’t mean any of it. I need you know that. I didn’t mean a single word. I…I love you.” With her declaration, she dropped to the floor like a stone and assumed the position.

Dax did the same. “I know, babe, I love you, too.” Then he yelled to the officers who were still on the other side of the door. “We’re in position.”

His only thought as the cops entered—from seemingly every direction—was,
she said it. She fucking loves me. I am the luckiest man on the planet.

“
A
re
you sure you are ready to do this?” Dax asked as they pulled up in the driveway of the house where she killed a man. As much as she’d like to think of it in another way, she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she doubted her actions, because she didn’t. In her heart, she knew she made the only choice she could, but the fact remained that she had taken a life. No matter how you slice it, that’s what it boiled down to. Justified or not, even in the eyes of the law, it was still something she had to deal with. Any human being would feel the same. Taking a life should affect someone, no matter the conditions.

So, while she didn’t question her actions, she still took a life. She’d cope with it and would continue therapy, but she would never forget. And, she’d made peace with that part, too.

Dax was supportive and seemed to understand her feelings about it. Most men would have told her to get over it or it’s not the same as murder, but not Dax. He shared her view of it still being a life. For a long time, she wanted Troy’s rapist dead, but now, she understood a harsh truth. She still hated the bitch and damned her to Hell each and every day, but if given the opportunity, she wouldn’t end her life.

She answered Dax honestly, “Yep. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Of course, she knew there was more to his inquiry than just moving her stuff out of her rental. Dax was hurt when she opted to stay with Gus instead of him while waiting to see if she would be tried for Hank’s death. Hell, John was pissed to high Heaven, too.

As far as John was concerned, she normally ran to him. He was her rock, but he was so busy beating himself up, Stacy couldn’t soothe him and that just created a cycle between them that wasn’t helpful to either. Honestly, she couldn’t stand the look on her brother’s face. It was pity, and that shit didn’t fly, not from him. Even the knowledge it was caused by his pain didn’t help. Stacy needed to help him release his guilt, but right after everything went down, she didn’t have it in her.

Her choice not to stay with Dax was fueled by her concern for him and Macy. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to curl into Dax’s protective love and wish away what happened, but she just couldn’t. Not with his daughter there. As much as it hurt him for her not to meet Macy, he understood her position. Stacy refused to enter this kid’s life at the peak of this crap in hers. Letting his daughter get attached to her only to find out she would go away for murder would leave both Dax and Macy counting their time apart. She wouldn’t visit that Hell on anyone.

Plus, she hated to admit it, but she needed Gus. Really needed her. With that admission to both her brother and Dax, they relented and she stayed with Gus until word came down that she wouldn’t be charged. Not that Dax and John weren’t over there at every opportunity.

Today was the day. The day they were packing up her stuff, the limited things she planned to keep anyway, and moving it in with Dax and Macy. Dax’s question was probably only ten percent in reference to the house itself. The other ninety was about starting a life together. Now that she was free, that’s exactly what she planned on doing. Free in so many ways. Free from her past. Free to love and free of possible murder charges. Mostly, free of her self-imposed restrictions.

If she learned anything from all this, it was love can make you stronger. If it weren’t for her overwhelming love for Dax, she would have lain there and accepted what Hank had planned. Her life until Dax seemed like a series of tragic events that she let shape her, and not all for the better. And the big, bearded galoot who was currently opening her car door for her seemed to love it all, the beautiful and the flawed. Or rather, he found the flaws beautiful.

Tori and Michael were already inside with the moving company. John wasn’t there, but that was at her insistence. He had a life, and she wouldn’t let him put it on pause any longer just to hold her hand.
Of course, when I told him that, I expected that “getting on with his life” part to involve Gus, not to actively avoid her.

Another thing she realized she gained by letting love in was a whole new layer to friendship. Stacy’s mind snapped back to her channeling Tori that night. She could laugh about it now, and Tori had a field day with it, hooting and hollering about being
numero uno
friend. “In your face, Erika,” she’d said. Truth was, Stacy laughed, too.
This is the month of fucking firsts
, she thought.

“You ready to do this, chica?” Tori asked while expertly directing movers.

“Like I told this one,” she thrust her thumb toward Dax, “as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Tori clapped her hands together. “Alright then fellas, all the furniture goes to charity. The shoes in the truck bound for her new digs. Any questions?” Tori knew exactly what she wanted to keep and didn’t. They had discussed it ahead of time.

Stacy found her attention was drawn to the specific spot on the floor. The place where there had been so much blood, she had felt like Carrie. The exact location where she killed a man. It was weird that it looked just like the rest of the floor. Not a single clue as to what happened. One day, another family would move in. Their kids would play right there, running miniature Mustangs over where she had almost given up. Maybe they’d put a throw rug down and no one would have to touch it again.

An empty laugh escaped her. What a weird thought to have. Stacy went to the sink to wash her hands. It was something she did often lately.
If that’s the worst thing I come away from this with, that’s a fucking win in my book
. As she pumped soap onto her hands, she noticed Tori’s wedding ring in the soap dish. The lady was hands-on and slinging boxes around with the movers. It must be why she removed it. As she lathered and rubbed her hands under the water, she stared at it. She felt bad that she didn’t want one. Isn’t that what all women are supposed to aspire to? White dress, band of gold? She planned to stay with Dax forever and build a family, but did they have to have a piece of paper to do that? Stacy wasn’t knocking anyone who did. It just wasn’t her thing.

While staring at the ring and contemplating if it would make Dax happier to have one, she noticed engraving on the inside. After she dried her hands, she lifted it from its porcelain rest and gasped as she read the inscription.

Two words, simple, yet profound.

I CARE

I care.
That’s what the whole marriage thing was about. Not rings or flowers or mediocre fish for two hundred people. It was caring, even when shit got real. Dax caught her eye and did that panty-melting half-smile that made her wet. Pair that with the beard and damned if the man didn’t have the keys to the kingdom.

His eyes dropped to her hand and what she was holding. He headed her way. Stacy replaced the ring before she dropped it in the sink or something and met Dax halfway. “Do you…I mean, will it make you happy to do the whole thing the right way. Rings and all?” Dax hugged her from behind and dropped his mouth to her ear.

Damn, the man made her feel petite and giant at the same time and she loved the hell out of that feeling…out of him. “Babe, who says that’s the only right way? I don’t need to change your name to know your mine. I know it with every brush of your hand. Every time you look at me like I’m the only man in the world. Each and every quiver your irresistible body gives up to my touch.” His tongue caressed the shell of her ear and she damn near lost her mind. “Everything about you is irrevocably mine, and not a single piece of paper in the world can grant me that, or take it away.”

And just like that, she almost came in her pants.

“Tori’s got this, babe, what do you say we go home? You can meet Macy and then I can take you to the bed that awed you.”

Stacy had told him about her foray into his house—how she found the knife, how she called him, and how she spent a long time admiring the bed and tables. Dax took her having the knife as providence. He dropped it when he got the call about Macy or it wouldn’t have been there for her to find. Dax wasn’t a religious man, at least not in the traditional sense, but he damn sure was spiritual. He firmly believed things happened the way they happened because they were meant to be. Normally not her thing, but on this, she wouldn’t argue.

Tori came around the corner with a couple of beefy movers and slid to a halt in front of them. “Keep your pants on, you two. Dax is right, by the way, we got this, go home and get busy.” Stacy laughed out loud when Tori imitated Erika’s patented over-exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. With her whole body, she laughed.

And it felt amazing.

“
T
ori’s right
, let’s go.” Dax was anxious to introduce her to Macy. He’d spent the last two weeks telling his daughter all about her and vice versa. Both of them seemed to have no worries in the world about their place in each other’s lives. Macy was thrilled to meet Stacy.
Once she realized that I was loved, she was sold.
Stacy, well, she was sold from day one. She only pulled back because of her worries of not being there and not wanting to hurt Macy in the process. People liked to label her cold, but she was anything but. Stacy was just selective about who she let in. Dax was learning though, that once you were in, you were golden. As long as you didn’t break her heart, she was hot as Hell. Never cold.

“Okay,” she answered, and then turned toward the trio in front of her. “But I swear, if one single pair of my babies is so much as scratched, there will be hell to pay.”

“Fine, chill chica, they’re just shoes.”

Dax groaned, because he knew Tori knew better. She was just trying to get a rise out of Stacy and she damn sure did.

“But,” Tori tried to placate, “I’ll treat them like the precious cargo they are.”

Stacy got in Tori’s face with fake ire. Well, not her face so much as her chest. “Don’t you ever spew such blasphemy in my presence. Just shoes, my ass. I am holding you personally responsible, and don’t forget, I can file a lawsuit for damages that will make you weep.” Michael barked a laugh from somewhere in the vicinity of the bedroom.

“Burrrrn. She got you, Tori. You better watch out,” Michael said as he entered the room. Dax face-palmed. It felt like he would be doing that a lot lately. Stacy being comfortable as part of the group would prove interesting.

“Seriously, man, you should have stayed in the back,” Dax noted with an amused shake of his head. His gaze was drawn to the place where his world changed, then back to the people who were his family. He noticed Stacy no longer stared at that spot as she did when they first arrived.
Tori, you sly dog, you.
The therapist part of her found the perfect way to distract Stacy and help her have a good last memory of this room. Dax loved her all the more for it. He already considered her his sister, but his heart grew where she was concerned.
Well played.

Stacy pinned Dax with a look before turning toward Michael. “You, zip it. I wear heels bigger than your dick.” Then, she turned back to Tori. “And you, don’t forget, I will sue your ass. And in case you were wondering ‘
Mr. Burrrrn,’
I would name you as culpable.”

“I highly doubt that,” Tori mumbled, and cut her eyes to Michael’s crotch. “Alright, my little pocket litigator, bring it in.” Tori embraced Stacy and she hugged her back, fiercely. Dax had never witnessed her hug anyone like that but him or John. “Now, take your man home and fuck him stupid.”

By this time, the movers had busied themselves trying their damnedest not to listen. Michael grabbed her next and swung her around like a kid. With a kiss to her forehead, he put her down and whispered words of love. Stacy blushed but accepted them. Dax knew how close she and Michael were, but they seemed even more so now, and that choked him up a little. He figured they bonded over being victims or something that he couldn’t comprehend. He wouldn’t wish this crap on anyone, but a part of him was glad she had someone besides a professional to talk to.

A few more hugs, some manly back claps, and watery goodbyes and they were finally on their way to his house.
Their
house. Stacy seemed lighter now. Dax was unsure if it was being back in the house and making a measure of peace with it or his reassurance that he didn’t need to be married, but he was grateful for whatever caused it.