Ten Thousand Lies (41 page)

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked.

“Removing the tattoo,” she answered, like it was no big thing. She looked up into my face. “What? He’s already dead.”

“Nersty.” Jaime snorted, groaning in pain from laughing.

I hugged her a little tighter, and Jaime melted against me.

“Did they do anything else to you, Jaime?” I asked softly.

“Nuh.”

A sloppy, squelching noise brought my attention back to Xanthe and Rex, and I saw her peeling the skin off Mikhail’s chest and depositing it into a plastic bag Rex was holding.

“You know, this was really anticlimactic,” said Xanthe, disappointed.

“It ain’t the damn movies,” said Ellen. “Only dipshits make conversation with the people they’re about to take out.”

Rex patted Xanthe on her bushy auburn head. “You can rewrite it to be what you were hoping for.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I insisted Jaime go to the Locals’ hospice.

“Em fine!” she told us, her speech thick and barely understandable.

“The hell you are. Your jaw might be broken,” said Ellen.

At the hospice, we found out that it wasn’t, but Nikolai had walloped the shite out of my Dollface, and it would be some time before the bruising and swelling went down.

After the X-rays came back, she was sent home with an ice pack and a bottle of heavy painkillers.

It was a blessedly quiet ride home.

Ronen hadn’t joined us, instead deciding it was time to have a talk with Lilla, who was disappointed no one had needed tasing.

So, Jaime and I were alone in my house. We took a quiet bath together where I got to assess the damage for myself. She was covered with bruises on one side of her body, which could be chalked up to when she’d been tossed into the van, and her wrists were black, blue, and chapped red.

“I was so scared,” I confessed as I gently washed her back.

“Mmm.”

“It was the most terrifying thing that’s ever happened in my life, Jaime. When Nikolai came up and laid you out—”

“Dern’t even ’member,” she said.

“You don’t even remember?”

“No.”

“Weren’t you scared?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Berly erwerk.”

“Barely awake?”

“Mmhmm. Just…” She heaved an irritated sigh and spoke slowly, “This ’ucks.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

Very slowly, she tried to speak through her swollen jaw. “Jus’ woke uh when yuh come in.”

“Shh. You don’t have to say anything.”

“Do. I lerve yuh.”

“I love you, too, Dollface.” I pulled her back into my chest, resting my face on the good side of hers. “Jaime, I can’t stand the thought of that happening again.”

She grumbled something incoherent.

“But I can’t stand the thought of living without you either.”

“Erf yuh dempin’ meh, I werl kerl yuh.”

“If I dump you, you’ll kill me?”

“Yers.”

Laughter rumbled through my chest, and she relaxed into me.

“Good to know.”

Jaime

One Year and Some Months Later…

“I’ve got something for you,” said Ricki as he handed me my beer.

It was a relaxing night, just the two of us. He’d been on a mission that had taken over a day, and when that happened, we’d just hole ourselves up together at home.

“What’s that?” I asked, scooting close to him on the couch to snuggle.

“Close your eyes, and hold out your hand.”

“I’m not falling for that again.”

He snorted. “Just do it.”

So, I did, and he gently placed a tiny object in the center of my left palm.

“Open,” he whispered.

In my hand sat a fat diamond on a delicate silvery band.

“Oh my God,” I gasped.

“Fancy getting married, Dollface?”

Mouth hanging open, I stared at the sheer size of the diamond. “Holy shit, Ricki.”

“Is that a yes?”

I turned to face him, staring into his aquamarine eyes; he always took the contacts out when we were at home. Right then, they were bright and sparkling with happiness and hope.

“Yes!” I cried.

I launched myself onto him, fisting the ring, and I kissed him for all I was worth. His strong arms wrapped around me, and he kissed me back.

“Put it on,” he said after I’d calmed down.

“You do it,” I said, handing it back to him.

“Do you want me on my knees?”

“Nope. You never have to beg me for anything; you know that.”

His smile created a warmth within my heart that spread a tingling all the way into my fingertips and toes.

“I happen to know for a fact that you love it when I beg.”

“That doesn’t count. You love begging during sex.”

“So do you.”

“And that is why we’re perfect for each other. Now, shut up, and put the ring on me!”

Taking my left hand, he slid the ring onto my finger.

“Let’s do it tomorrow,” he said.

Surprised, I looked into his eyes again. “Tomorrow?”

“Why wait? I already booked our honeymoon. We leave for Thailand in two days.”

“Thailand?” I echoed.

“You want to go somewhere else?”

“Wherever you are, Ricki, that’s where I want to be.”

With Xanthe and Deo as witnesses and Ellen, Lilla, Ronen, and Rex for moral support, Ricki and I headed to the courthouse the next morning and got married.

We were officially Mr. and Mrs. Richard Darcy Conklin. Then, the six of us, minus Lilla, headed over to the Locals headquarters. Lilla had work at the hostel with two new unfortunates Ricki, Ronen, and Rex had rescued the day before yesterday.

Ricki headed to the men’s room, coming out a few minutes later with his aquamarine eyes dazzling.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“What? Like Ursula doesn’t know my true identity?”

“What’s going on?”

Taking my hand, he tugged me along to a separate room where Ursula stood, smiling, dressed like a fancy politician in a pantsuit.

She wasn’t alone.

Ricki stopped in his tracks, his face showing shock. I was getting ready to throw myself in front of him to shield him from the man and older woman who stood there with Ursula.

“Max?” Ricki gasped. “Mama?”

The woman—Mama—burst into tears and ran toward my husband, throwing herself at him. Ricki held her with one arm, refusing to release my hand. If anything, his grip on me was becoming painful. He whispered something to her that sounded to be in Russian.

Max came up, smiling, and I could only see traces of Ricki in this man’s handsome features. Born less than a year apart, they looked more like distant relations than brothers.

“Jamey, let go of your wife, so I can say hello to my new sister,” said Max.

It was so strange, hearing my name in reference to Ricki. Ricki turned his face toward his brother, his eyes leaking into his beard. Releasing his mother, he threw an arm around Max.

“What are you doing here?” he half-whispered, half-choked.

“Ursula called me to tell me she was notarizing your marriage as James, so Mama and I came to see you get married,” Max replied. “We’ve missed so damn much already. We couldn’t miss this.”

When Max had said
Mama
, I turned to look at the woman who had raised her sons to fight for humanity, whatever the cost. Ricki hadn’t lied; he’d gotten his mama’s eyes. In fact, he looked like the spitting image of the woman but with a beard.

Mama held out her hands and took mine. “It’s wonderful to meet you,” she said in a perfect British accent. There was no trace of the Ukraine in her speech.

“Likewise.”

Pulling back from Max, Ricki sniffed. “How long are you here for?”

“Until this evening,” replied Mama.

Ronen bounded into the room, giving a cry as he spotted Max. The two of them hugged like brothers, heartily slapping each other’s backs. When Deo came in, he and Max man-hugged the crap out of each other, too.

“Come on! We don’t have all day!” said Ursula.

Before anyone could do anything, I was swept into Max’s arms and given a squeeze.

“You promise to take care of him, right?”

“Until my dying day,” I replied.

Ursula beckoned Ricki—James and I over. Xanthe, Rex, and Ellen had filed into the room behind us and stood with Max and Mama.

A strange sadness squeezed my heart. I hadn’t bothered to call my own mom to let her know I was getting married. I hadn’t spoken to her since the week before I’d left New Jersey. I hadn’t called her to say good-bye, a small part of me hoping she’d remember I was leaving and she’d reach out to me. She hadn’t, so I’d left it at that.

I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly nervous. Ricki was already my husband. I smoothed my hands down my vintage 1950s ivory tea-length dress, loving the texture of the lace and baby-pink rosettes beneath my palms. They looked like polka dots, and for some reason, that made me absurdly happy. I’d found the dress years ago in a secondhand shop with no idea of when I’d wear it. I’d just had to have it though, and I had schlepped it with me across the Atlantic.

James reached out and took my hand. “Ready for round two, Dollface?”

I turned my head to look into his aquamarine eyes. Deo had given Ricki a hell of a polishing. His hair was trimmed and stiffened with pomade, and his beard had been manscaped to perfection. My husband looked dapper in his gray slacks, button-down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and dark gray vest.

“I love you,” he told me.

I was going to lose it soon. “I love you, too.”

“No matter who I am, no matter what I do, Jaime…I’m always your man. Promise you won’t forget that.”

“I promise,” I whispered.

Five minutes later, I was also Mrs. James Charles Godwin.

Ricki wasn’t messing around.

He’d booked us into a fabulous hotel in a huge suite with all sorts of fancy features for an entire month.

On our second day, after finishing a fabulous breakfast, we were sitting on the balcony of our suite, and I was looking out over the ocean, taking all of it in. Within me was this sense of peace, tranquility, and acceptance for the moment.

Then, it struck me. “How the hell can we afford this?”

Ricki shrugged and then shot me a sheepish look. He hadn’t put in his brown contacts since we’d arrived.

“I guess I need to tell you something.”