31. Michael

31

MICHAEL

My back ached as I rolled over and stared at Claire. Two nights on the floor was hell on my body, but it was better than letting her anywhere near that bedroom. I'd take any amount of pain to ensure her dreams were as safe as possible.

As she lay beside me sleeping, I took the time to trace my fingers over her body. Five years without her felt like a lifetime, but she still had the same slender frame. Her breasts hung a little heavier, but only made her more desirable. I could still remember the way she looked in the hospital when she had Isabelle—the smile on her face as she held our daughter in her arms for the first time. When she looked up at me, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of my lungs. She was so fucking beautiful, and I knew then that I could never deserve a woman like her.

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at me, a slight smile tilting her lips. "What are you doing?"

"Staring at you."

"Why?"

"Because you're the most fucking beautiful woman I've ever seen."

A blush stained her cheeks as she tried and failed to hide a smile. "Remember when we were younger?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"We were different."

"I'm different than I was five minutes ago."

She smacked me lightly. "You know what I mean. Nothing's the same."

I slid my hand from her hip around to her back, pulling her closer to me. "Baby, a lot of things aren't the same. That doesn't make me love you any less."

"But I'm not…as flexible as I used to be. I don't know. I just worry that…"

"That I'll leave you for someone younger?"

She nodded, biting her lip. I shouldn't love her vulnerability, but it did something crazy to me. The fact that she would worry so fucking much about me leaving for a younger woman made this aging man feel like he was still in his thirties.

"First of all, I don't want a younger woman. I wouldn't be able to keep up with her. Second, do you remember when I cried out last night while I was taking you from behind?"

"Yeah."

I nodded, grinning at her. "Remember when I busted my knee when I was forty-two?"

"What does that have to do with?—"

"It still fucking hurts from time to time. If it's too cold. If I lean on my knees too long…If I kneel as I'm fucking you," I growled.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I love looking at you bent over as I take you from behind. I like the feel of my hand running down your spine and seeing you arch your back when you come. But most of all, I love gripping your ass in my hands and knowing no one else ever gets to have you the way I do. I may be getting older, but I'm not dead. I will continue to fuck you whether it hurts me or not because I have never felt more alive than when I have you in my arms."

Appreciation and understanding filled her eyes as she looked at me. I could tell she was trying not to cry, and that wasn't my intention. I only wanted her to understand how much I needed her in my life.

"We may be getting older, but that doesn't mean I love you any less."

"I never thought you did."

"Yes, you did," I grinned. "You thought I walked out on you and forgot about you."

She rolled her eyes, shrugging lightly. "Maybe, but I think I was hoping you forgot about me. Like, maybe it would be easier."

"I could never fucking forget you. I could be going senile and I would still remember that beautiful face."

"I'll have to be sure to tell the nurses that when we're put in an old people's home."

"Like you could ever get me in one of those."

"You're right. They wouldn't take you."

"That's fucking right. One look at me and they would know I'm trouble."

"Hmm," she grinned. "Trouble because they know you'll blow something up or because of all the distraction you'll cause with your good looks?"

"I'm going gray. I hardly think the ladies are looking for a man who's showing his age."

She shifted, propping herself up on her elbow and resting her head in her hand. "Do you really not see it? Women love the salt-and-pepper look. It's sexy as hell."

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah," she grinned.

I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. "So, are you saying you're going to have to fend off women to protect my honor?"

"I'll grab their canes and beat them away from you."

I was trying to hold off, but couldn't resist a second longer. I pressed my lips to hers and rolled her to her back, sliding between her legs. Her hands trailed over my back, digging into my skin as I settled between her thighs.

"I could be eighty years old and still want you."

"My boobs will be sagging a lot more by then."

My cock hardened at the thought. Not how saggy her boobs would be, but the fact that I would still be with her, making love to her in another twenty-five years. Her eyes widened as she felt me grow against her.

"Do saggy boobs turn you on?"

"Baby, everything about you turns me on."

I slid inside her in one hard thrust, swallowing her cries with my lips as I waited for her to adjust to my length. Fucking hell, it was hard to hold still when all I wanted was to fuck her hard. I wasn't sure she could handle it, though. After all she'd been through, the last thing I needed was to ruin everything by bending her over and taking her hard.

When I felt her muscles loosen around me, I slowly worked my cock in and out of her, enjoying the feel of her wet pussy wrapped around my dick.

"I won't break," she whispered.

I shook my head slightly. "I don't want to do more damage than I've already done."

"You didn't do that. You can make it better. Just love me like you used to. Don't hold back."

Her hushed but sincere whispers were all the incentive I needed. I lost control quickly, thrusting in and out of her, holding her gaze to mine to make sure she was with me. The trust burning bright in her eyes only spurred me on. I rolled over, taking her with me. As she sat astride me, I hugged her to me, kissing her breasts as she rode my cock. I was barely hanging on, doing everything possible to keep from spilling my load inside her before she could come.

But I couldn't take it.

I slid my fingers to her pussy, playing with her clit as she panted hard. She was close, so fucking close. And when she detonated, I gripped her hips and thrust up inside her one last time, wrapping my arms around her and holding her to me.

Breathing hard, I held her to me, only realizing then that I needed her close to calm my racing heart. "I can't believe you're really here," I murmured, pressing a kiss to her head.

She tilted her head back to see me, her eyes full of questions. "Why do you say that?"

"I've been selfish most of my life."

"Michael—"

"I need to tell you this." She stayed quiet as I gathered the courage to tell her what was coming. "I did what I had to for work. I told myself that when I slept with Larissa, it was because I needed to. I never loved her the way I should have. She was depressed half the time because she fucking knew something else was going on when I left. And my son…he was ignorant about everything that was going on in my life. The times I should have been there for him, I was at work. He was just a kid, trying to live up to my standards, but I wasn't there to encourage him. I wasn't a real father to him."

"Where is he now?"

I chuckled as I thought of that. "Despite everything, he turned out pretty good. He's got a wife and kids, a good job…a good life."

"Then why are you being so hard on yourself?"

"Because my choices affected him. He got the better half of me, but he also turned out just like me. And then there's Rafe and Cash. Somehow, Cash turned out to be a better man than I could ever be, and I thank my lucky stars for that every day."

"He seems like a very good man."

I nodded to myself. "He's the best. You should see the way his men look up to him. They would follow him anywhere. I've watched him for years, always in awe of how he's able to lead his men anywhere, taking on impossible jobs and always coming out on top."

I thought back to the grid failure on the west coast. I'd watched from afar, always working in the background. But he was on the front lines, working the problem and finding out who was behind it all. He was fucking amazing.

"And Rafe?" she asked.

"Rafe," I sighed. "He's my greatest achievement and my greatest failure all at once."

"How can that be?"

A smile touched my lips as I thought of the man he'd become. "Because he turned out just like me in every way. He has a wife he adores, though he tries to hide that and pretend he can walk away from her. But he's giving it all up for his sister—to save her life. I'm so proud of all he's doing, and when I realized he was just like me, I thought…he has that sense of determination and drive that I have. He knows what's right and he stays the course. Even when things seem impossible, he won't give in."

"How is that your greatest failure?"

I slowly looked at her, dread filling the pit of my stomach. "Because he's giving up everything to save his sister. Libby will be devastated. She's a fighter like him, but she doesn't deserve to lose him because of his determination and drive. Because of me," I clarified.

"Michael—"

"I can't let him do this."

She sat up, taking the sheets with her. "It's already in motion."

"He's there because of me—because I let him turn out just like me. He's sacrificing his life because he thinks it's the right thing to do."

"He's doing it for his sister!"

"He's doing it because it's what I would do," I said gently. "And I love him for that. I love that he would do anything to get his sister back, but look at him. I sacrificed three relationships in the name of the job. Isabelle was taken. You were attacked. And I could never truly admit that it was because of my actions that the people I loved most were hurt. The job always came first."

Tears filled her eyes as she stared at me. She knew what was coming, and there was no way to stop me. I didn't want to leave her, but I couldn't allow this to go on any longer.

"It's because of me that he's so willing to sacrifice his life."

"He made those choices."

"Because I trained him to be that way. He is my greatest accomplishment," I whispered. "And if I don't do something about it, he's going to end up dead. I can't sacrifice another child because of my ideals. I will get Isabelle back. I swear to you?—"

She stood in a flurry, wrapping the sheet around herself. "But you'd sacrifice yourself to do it. After everything that's happened, after we're finally together again, you'd risk it all and leave me again!"

"Claire, it's not that simple?—"

"Nothing in this life is simple!" she cried. "Do you think I don't realize that in order to get Isabelle back, someone else might die? I know that! I had resigned myself to a life of only speaking to her on the phone. I knew it was unlikely I would ever see her again!"

A tortured moan left her lips as her chest heaved with emotion. I wanted to go to her, to hold her in my arms, but she was too distraught—too fucking filled with anger—and it was all my fault again.

"Now, your son has run off to save her," she whispered, "and your guilty conscience is taking over. You're going to leave me in the hopes of saving your son."

"What would you have me do?"

She shook her head slowly. "I don't know. I really don't know. It's not a situation we can win. No matter what, someone loses."

I slowly stepped toward her, sliding my hand up her arm. I could feel her tense from my touch, and I fucking hated that, but this was something I had to do.

"I couldn't save Isabelle," I croaked out. "But Rafe found a way, and now he's put himself in the worst situation ever. If he—if Zavala finds out that he's related to us, he won't just kill him."

"Maybe he won't find out," she whispered, her breaths shuttered as she tried to hold back the tears.

"Zavala always finds out, and when he does?—"

I didn't even want to think about what he would do to Rafe. If I thought what he did to Claire was bad, what he would do to Rafe was unthinkable. I had put him in this position with my selfish causes and my need to be the Shadow—the man pulling the strings behind the curtain. The problem is, there's always someone in life who is stronger than you, who's more powerful and can take you down. I just didn't realize that until it was too late.

I lost Isabelle, but I would not lose Rafe also. I could never forgive myself if my son died because he followed in my footsteps. It would kill me.

Claire flung herself into my arms. Her body shook against mine as she cried for the loss of what we might have had. I hated that this was going to happen, but it was the only way I could live with myself.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, hoping one day she could find it in her heart to forgive me for all I had put her through. "I love you so fucking much, Claire."

"I love you too," she whispered, bending her head back to look up at me. "I just got you back. Please?—"

I cupped her cheeks in my hands, my own eyes filling with tears as I stared down at the woman I loved. "I need you to know that no one has ever made me feel the way you do. I know I did wrong by you, and I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am that you let me back into your life. You have given me more happiness than any man could ever ask for."

Her eyes slowly closed and tears slipped down her cheeks. It fucking gutted me to say these things to her, but I would not be like Rafe. I would not walk away without her knowing what was going to happen.

"When Isabelle calls and we get the message to her, I'll take you to OPS. Cash will look after you and protect you, but then I need to find a way to save my son. I need to get him back…no matter the consequences."

A mewling sound left her lips as she buried her face in my chest. I held her to me, wishing and praying that I could find another way to get Rafe back. But I made my decisions a long time ago, and now all of my children were paying the price.

"You are the greatest love of my life."