Chapter Fourteen

Aurelio

I slipped out of bed in the early hours of the morning, pulling my pants back on, then going in to lift the babbling Judah out of his crib, and bringing him into the kitchen to get some food going.

At some point during the night, the guard had brought bags of Judah's toys and his highchair up to the front door. But after breakfast, I had to bring Judah with me, back and forth, to get the rest of the stuff out of the car, since this house wasn't the least bit baby-proofed.

Claire slept long and deep, not so much as shifting her position until it was nearly ten in the morning.

I was sitting playing blocks on the floor with Judah as she suddenly ran out of the room, wearing nothing but my shirt I'd left on the floor the night before, only one button secured, and flying into Judah's room. Then back out in a panic.

"Oh," she said, her shoulders loosening when her gaze landed on us. "Hey," she said as Judah got up and walked over to her.

"Play blocks," he said, reaching for her hand, and pulling her toward me.

Where I got to watch with no small amount of amusement as she tried to sit down without exposing herself.

"What time is it?" she asked as she piled a brick on top of the house Judah was building. I say Judah because anytime I tried to add a block, Judah shook his head and removed it. Apparently, my building skills were not up to snuff.

"Ten. There's fresh coffee and some cold eggs," I told her.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asked as I looked at her gorgeous face, marked with dark blue and purple bruises on her jaw and cheek that had my body tensing.

"You deserve to sleep in every now and again, angel," I said, shrugging.

"Moms don't really get that luxury," she said.

"They do when they have someone around who cares about them," I shot back, watching the way a shy little smile toyed with her lips as her gaze slid away.

"Mama," Judah called, making her head whip over.

"Yeah, baby?"

"What's this?" he asked, reaching up toward her face. I imagined he was just trying to touch her cheek, but he ended up slapping her hard enough for her to suck in her breath.

"Just a boo-boo," Claire said, and I could hear the pain in her voice as she said it. Not the physical kind. The internal kind. At having to make excuses for the evidence of violence on her skin that his father had put there.

Judah took this at face value, though, and leaned upward to press a wet kiss to her jaw.

"All better," he said before going back to his blocks.

"Mama's going to go get some coffee," she told him, using my shoulder to help her get to her feet.

I followed her a minute later, after glancing around to make sure there was nothing Judah could get into.

"Thanks," she said over the lip of her mug. "I don't think I realized how much I needed some solid sleep until I got some."

"It's peaceful here," I agreed.

"Are there no neighbors?" she asked. "It was too dark to tell last night."

"We're backed up to protected woodlands, and there aren't any houses for about a five-minute drive. This way, whoever is staying here would be able to tell if someone who is approaching, doesn't belong here."

"That makes sense. And there's no one around to realize that no one is ever in the house."

"Exactly. The only people who ever come here are the lawn service guys. And they would just assume the residents are at work."

"The quiet is nice, but I actually like your place better. There's a certain… security about having neighbors."

"Yeah, this is nice for a vacation, but I wouldn't be into country living in my everyday life. I like being close to stores. And family."

"I met Sofia," she told me. "I didn't get a chance to tell you that. She came over with groceries. I really like her."

"She really liked you too. She was texting me when I was at my meeting."

"She didn't love that you called her Smush, though," she said, her brows raising.

"Yeah, I should have mentioned that," I admitted. "She fucking hates that nickname. But we're all just so used to calling her it. Didn't start really being a problem to her until she was like twelve or so."

"Does she know?" Claire asked.

"Know what?"

"About me? About… this?" she asked, waving around the safe house.

"She knows something is going down," I said. "Especially now, since she's moved to a safe house, too, with Elisa and our mom."

"Because of me?" she asked, sounding choked.

"Because of Warren," I corrected. "Everything is his fault, not yours."

"How is the man? Your guard outside?" she asked, eyes going round and haunted. "He was… he wasn't moving. I couldn't help him…"

"He's… alive," I told her, torn between whether to give her the whole truth, or if I should sugarcoat it. "He's not out of the woods yet, but he made it through the night," I added. Because, at the end of the day, if this was going to go how I wanted it to with Claire—the way that meant she and Judah moved back into my house after this and… never left—then I needed to be honest with her.

The life of a mafia wife wasn't easy. It involved sometimes being frustratingly in the dark. And, other times, being privy to uncomfortable or upsetting details.

Like men who were shot.

Like ones who might not make it.

Once I set up my phone while Judah ate his breakfast, I got an update straight from Lettie, telling me that while things were still touch-and-go, that she was hopeful, that my man was a fighter.

I said a prayer for him. And his ma, since he had one who really fucking loved him. Then checked in with Luca, who assured me that my family was safe, and that he was doing everything he could to track down Warren.

Who was on the lam ever since the attack at my house, something that likely had everyone on edge.

I should have been more anxious than I was about it as well. But my concern was trying to keep things calm and comfortable at the safe house.

I wasn't too worried about Judah. He really was an easy-going kid. But his mom, well, I knew she was struggling more than she let on. Or if she wasn't yet, that she would be eventually. Once she settled in.

There was no way all this trauma wasn't going to catch up to her eventually. Days, weeks, months. Eventually, it would start to bleed in.

Luckily, though, I would be there for her when it happened. Picking up the slack with Judah. Allowing her to take all the time she needed to recover mentally.

"I hope he pulls through," Claire said, dragging me back to the present.

"I have all the faith in Lettie. She's the best at what she does."

"So… what now?" Claire asked.

"Now… we settle in," I said. "Find ways to fill the days. And nights," I added with a grin that had her cheeks looking a little pink.

"Relo," Judah said, coming into the room, talking to me.

Aureliowas not the kind of name a two-year-old could say easily. So… Relo it was.

"What's up, bud?"

"Noodles."

"Noodles? Already?" I asked. "Where are you putting all this food?" I wondered, then watched as he yanked up his shirt, and pointed at his belly. "In there?" I asked, getting down, and knocking on his stomach. "You know what? It does sound empty," I said. "Guess I need to make some noodles."

"I can make the noodles. I know you said you had errands to run today."

"If you want… we can all go. After noodles," I said, grabbing a pot, rinsing it off, then filling it before putting it on the burner.

"Really?" she asked, cautiously hopeful.

And it suddenly occurred to me just how much Claire, and Judah, had been missing. The only difference being that Judah had no idea what he was missing out on.

When was the last time Claire had been to a store? Been able to browse aisles and pick out new things?

Had Judah ever been anywhere aside from Warren's house, mine, and that brief stint to the library?

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "We shouldn't make a regular thing of this, for the time being. But there's no reason we can't all go to a store today."

Though I would be sure to pick a store further away from the house. Just to be safe.

"Judah has never seen a store. It might be a bad idea. He will probably pick out everything off the shelves."

"So?" I asked, shrugging. "He's gonna have to go to a store sooner or later. If he picks out twenty new toys to keep himself occupied while we're here, so be it. Maybe we can even introduce him to fast food on the way home. He's a bottomless pit."

"I think he's going through a growth spurt," she agreed.

"And with all the excitement, he will probably pass out hard after," I said, letting my hand brush across her lower back as I passed her, fingertips grazing her ass a bit.

"After noodles, do you want to go in the car?" she asked Judah.

Judah wholeheartedly agreed to that.

"Thank God you picked me up that makeup when you went to the store," she said as she reached up to run a hand over her jaw. "I hope the concealer does a good job."

She went ahead and got herself ready while I finished the noodles then set Judah in the highchair to eat.

"I don't like how good you are at covering those up," I said, walking into the bathroom to find her standing there in a towel, finishing up brushing some loose powder onto her carefully made-up face.

"It's not a skill I'm going to need after this," she said with the kind of certainty of a woman who would never again be with a man who raised a hand to her.

"You've got that right," I agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Where's Judah?"

"Stuffing his face using both fists. Don't worry, I cut the noodles up small," I told her as I reached around her, teasing my fingers up her stomach until I reached the tuck of her towel, and worked it free.

I watched in the mirror as the towel fell away, leaving her bare to me, her skin still a little pink from the hot water in the shower.

"We don't have a lot of time then," she said, even as her eyelids grew heavy as my hand moved up to cover her breast.

"Want to bet I can make you come twice before we even have to worry?" I asked as my other hand slipped between her thighs, and teased up her pussy that was already slick with need, finding her clit, and working it with my thumb.

She sucked in a shaky breath as her fingers curled into fists on the countertop.

"See?" I asked as my fingers slipped inside of her, feeling her walls tighten greedily around them. "You're already halfway there."

Her throaty little moan was a jolt of need right to my cock.

"You want to come with my fingers?" I asked, flicking her clit a little harder. "Or my mouth?" I asked as her head fell back against my shoulder. "Or…" I asked, fucking her faster with my fingers.

"Or?" she asked, her hips rocking against the movements.

"Or… my cock?" I asked, grinding it against her ass cheek.

A loud moan escaped her as her pussy tightened around my fingers even more.

"I need you to say it, angel," I said. "Fingers, mouth, or cock," I repeated her options.

Her gaze lifted to mine, molten with her need.

"Cock," she whispered, grinding her ass against me.

"Thank fuck," I growled, reaching for my wallet, and removing my last condom from it, making a mental note to pick up a fucking mega pack of them at the store.

She lost my fingers as I freed myself and protected us before I reached to press a hand between her shoulders, bending her forward, then teasing my cock against her cleft before thrusting inside her pussy.

Hard.

Deep.

Taking every tight inch of her.

My hands slid up to grab her shoulders, holding her still, so she didn't slam into the mirror as I started to fuck her.

Hard and fast, determined to make good on the promise of multiple orgasms.

"You feel so fucking good," I hissed as I slammed into her as she angled herself upward, getting the angle just how she liked it.

Her response was a deep, ragged moan that only managed to spur me on, fucking her as I watched her face, her eyes going cloudy and her lips parting, rounding over her whimpers and moans as she got closer and closer.

"There you go," I groaned as her pussy became a vice grip on my cock. "Come for me."

Then, just like that, she did, crying out loudly enough for my hand to slap over her mouth, quieting her.

"One more," I demanded, even as the need for release was getting painful.

But when I promised her something, I wanted to make sure I came through with it.

She was still trembling from the one orgasm when I grabbed her knee, yanking it up, and spreading it wide on the counter as I started to move inside her again.

Slowly.

So fucking slowly that it ached.

My hand slid between her thighs, working her clit until she was whimpering again, until she was begging for more, for faster, for harder.

And, well, I had to give my girl what she wanted, didn't I?

My gaze slid from her face, features twisted in need and pleasure, to her tits that bounced each time I thrust into her, then to where my cock was moving in and out of her, claiming her.

It wasn't long before she was tightening around me, before she was crying out, then her pussy was pulsing, the intensity of her orgasm taking me with her.

I reached for her leg after, pulling it down, then wrapping my arms around her, holding her against me as she came back down from the climax.

Her gaze lifted to mine in the mirror, a little hazy still, but clearing as a small smile tugged at her lips.

"What do you win for being right?" she asked, leaning her head back on my shoulder.

"You in my bed again tonight," I said, leaning down to press a kiss to her neck.

"That sounds good," she said, eyes closing dreamily.

But it was right then that Judah decided he was done with being in his highchair.

"Mama mama mama!" he called, pounding on his tray. "Relooooooo. Relooooooo…."

"I'll get him," I said, giving her one last kiss before slipping out of her, tossing the condom, and washing my hands before making my way out to find Judah had pretty much bathed in his pasta sauce.

"You're a mess, little man," I said, trying to figure out the best way to handle this situation without getting covered in sauce myself. "Alright. You wipe your hands and face for me," I said, handing him a wet cleaning rag, then going to work on the tray as he scrubbed at himself.

"Oh, buddy. You're gonna need to get changed," Claire said, coming out wearing yoga pants and a long-sleeve tee.

With that, she got him ready, and I grabbed a few things to toss into the baby bag.

Then we were off to the store.

Where Claire and I got to watch with smiles as Judah rode in a cart the first time. As he looked at and said hello to strangers for the first time.

"You okay?" I asked as she watched Judah rush back and forth up and down one of the toy aisles, his eyes huge.

"This is both really sweet and really, really sad," she said, looking over at me with watery eyes. "This should have been something he experienced ages ago."

"He never got to go anywhere?" I asked, my hand rubbing her back.

"Nowhere. His pediatrician even came to the house. I don't think he even had a carseat."

"It's a testament to you just how well-adjusted he is, considering he was an inside kid," I said.

"Thanks," she said, leaning her head into me for a second before breaking away to save Judah from getting crushed by the box he was trying to pull off of the shelf.

Within half an hour, the kid had the cart and the shelf underneath nearly full of toys and books.

"Why don't you pick out some more clothes while I get another cart?" I suggested, picking up Judah, so she would have some time to herself to really look around. I planned to take him around the arts crafts section before doubling back to check on her too.

"I can take him," she insisted.

"I got him. This way, if you wanna try sh—stuff on, you don't have to worry about him."

When I came back, she had two pairs of jeans and a couple shirts and sweaters.

"You can do better than that," I said as Judah showed her the coloring books he'd picked out where you painted with water and the color showed up on the page. Mess-free. Always a win.

"This is plenty," she insisted, taking Judah and putting him back in the front of the cart while I checked her pants sizes, then went and grabbed several more of those and some more tops. "You're crazy," she said, but her eyes were warm.

Aside from family, I'd never gotten a chance to really pamper a woman before. I couldn't have anticipated how good it would feel to see the way her eyes would light up when I snagged something off of a shelf for her that I knew she'd like, but wouldn't ask for.

Someday, when all this shit was done, I would find other ways to spoil her. Get her appointments to get her hair and nails done. Facials. A massage.

After all the stress of the past few years of her life, she deserved to learn how to relax. To have a soft life.

"You look far away," Claire said as we waited on the check-out line after stocking up on food, leaving us with two overflowing carts.

"Not far," I said, wrapping an arm around her, and pressing a kiss to her temple. "Just thinking of the things we can do when we're back home."

If she had any reservations of me calling my place our ‘home,' I couldn't see it in her face.

"Like what?" she asked.

"Well, the kid needs to go to a sit-down restaurant," I said as Judah started to wiggle and whine in the cart, clearly done with this trip, getting hungry and likely tired since he'd skipped right over his nap to shop.

"That will be… interesting," she said.

"He needs to go to a park. A movie. Maybe an arcade."

"He'll love all of that," she said as we moved up, and she started piling things onto the belt.

I figured it was best to talk about what she could give to Judah, not the experiences I wanted to give to her. Eventually, she would become more comfortable again doing all the things she did before Warren, and before becoming a mother.

It would all just take time.

Luckily, when all this shit was done, we would have nothing but time.

After the store, we treated Judah to his first taste of fast food nuggets, cheeseburger, and fries that he dipped into a milkshake, and he ate like he'd been starved for weeks.

"I feel I should be offended that he's never eaten food I've cooked him like that," Claire said as she looked back at him in his carseat, humming and rocking to himself as he ate, his little toy plushie getting the occasional ‘bite' of food as well. It was going to need to go in the wash when Judah went to bed.

"It's hard to compare with deep-fried junk," I said, shrugging. "But he would've eaten the entire tray of brownies if you'd have let him."

By the time we got home, got the stuff in the house and put away, Judah had put himself to sleep on the floor in the living room amongst a pile of his new toys, including one of those big, squishy toys that he was using as a pillow.

Claire put him to bed while I poured us wine from one of the bottles I found in the pantry. We had to drink out of coffee mugs, but neither of us cared as we curled up on the couch, amongst the chaos of toys on the floor in front of us, my fingers toying with her hair, her head resting on my chest.

And, suddenly, I could envision nights just like this, over and over and over, for the next several years.

All I could do was hope Claire's head was in the same place…