There Will Be Freedom (not mine)

36. Hands of Lucifer

JUSTIN POV

I drove the Mercedes smoothly and steadily, letting my hands caress the steering wheel to calm my nerves. I tried to go as slow as possible, watching my surroundings pass me by. The twisted and gnarled wrought iron gates of our house were up ahead. Large B's were warped into the metal on each side, loudly announcing who lived beyond the entrances, just in case you didn't know.

The guard, who basically lived in the same spot, never moving or leaving, noticed me and the gates slowly opened. I purposefully let my foot idle over the pedal before pushing the car forward. I crept up towards the house, which stood grand and lofty, illuminated by lights on all sides. Men with guns silently crept around the grounds, patrolling and keeping my most precious items safe.

I got out of the car and didn't even bother turning it off. Someone would put it in the garage later. I was more concerned with getting inside.

With my clothes grimy and my shoes still bloody, I climbed the stairs of our elaborate stone porch and the door opened without question. Gioni was there to take my jacket, silently nodding his head in greeting.

"Where is she?" I demanded an answer with my harsh tone.

"Outside, sir."

I bit my lip as I walked through the house, letting my footsteps echo off of the walls. My heart thundered in my chest when I neared the back porch. The large, glass French doors were open, letting the warm breeze flow. It blew the drapes in a rhythmic motion that was oddly soothing.

Maddie was in one of the comfortable outdoor couches, the fire pit in front of her raging with the flames lapping at the night air. Both dogs had accompanied her. Francis was curled up to her side, making soft puttering noises as he slept. Bosco's head was nestled on her lap, providing her with more comfort than I probably could at this point. A bottle of white wine was on the table near the couch, more than halfway emptied. She held a large glass in her hand.

She didn't turn when my shoes clicked on the pavement, but I knew she had heard me. The dogs both raised their heads, though they didn't move.

"Maddie?" I called to her softly. She didn't answer. "Maddie, please..."

Her face was stained with tears that had since dried, but it still hurt me like hell to see the red of her cheeks and the purple under her eyes. Seeing my wife cry was one of the worst pains in the world. Maddie in any kind of distress was almost too much for me to bear. I hated it, and even more, I hated that this time, I had been the cause of it.

"May I sit?" I asked, my voice tentative like I was walking on glass.

"If you want." She took a sip of her wine and sniffled.

I kept to the far side of the couch, pushing myself away from Maddie at all costs. I wanted to comfort her, wrap her in my arms and tell her that I was sorry, because I was. She was the only person in the world I could apologize to without feeling shamed or embarrassed, and even now, the words wouldn't come. An apology didn't seem to be good enough to right the wrong I had made her witness.

Maddie didn't raise her head to look at me, but all I wanted to see was her eyes. They would tell me how much pain she was in. She ran her hand through Bosco's thick fur behind his ears. He purred at the contact, and I detested him for being so close to her and enjoying her touch.

"Maddie, I never meant for you to see me like that," I began. "It was never my intention to scare you. I just wasn't thinking."

She nodded. "I understand."

That was all I got. Her tone wasn't clipped or angry. I expected more, something, anything. I needed to be yelled at and scolded like the criminal I was. Yet, she gave me nothing. It made me feel even worse.