Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

He knows what I’m asking.
Knows that no matter how impossible and ridiculous this
whole situation is, I’m closer to a yes than a no.
Moistening his lips, gripping my head in his hands, he says
gruffly, “A few times a month. For a few days at a time, if I
can manage it.”
Oh god. That’s barely any time at all.
“And you’d only come here? I could never go to where
you live?”
“Never,” he repeats, his voice stony. “We can’t take that
risk.”
Risk?
It sounds like there’s something more to it than just him
trying to keep me safe from his lifestyle. I mean, mafia men
must have families. They must have wives and girlfriends. At
least in the movies they do.
So why couldn’t he?
“You’d have a whole other life I know nothing about.”
“Yes. That’s the point. That’s the only way to keep you
safe.”
“But…how do I know you don’t have other women?”
“Because I’m giving you my word that I don’t. And I
won’t. I never will. If you tell me you’re mine, you’ll be the
only woman for me. Forever.”
He’s so serious, staring at me so hard with this unblinking
intensity, saying all these words like they’re nothing at all.
Making all these crazy promises like he actually means it.
Because he does actually mean it.
David was never like this.
It’s a terrible time to think of him, but a memory pops into
my mind of the day David and I went engagement ring
shopping.