Married To The Mafia: Book II

4 - Go Apeshit.

They had not taken more than a few steps down the empty street when Pamela yanked her hands from his.

"What is wrong with you?" She shot at him, giving him a rancorous frown.

"What do you mean?" He asked with exaggerated innocence that only served to annoy her the more.

She was already at her emotional limits, what, with the whole tumultuous maladies that had occurred in the span of few hours – a wedding, a resurrection, aiding and abetting assault, eloping with a dead man, having sex with a dead man, calling off the wedding – all that had stretched her to the very limit, but Devlin had a way of pushing her past her breaking point and leading her to nerve endings.

"How could you be rude to him?"

"You call that rude? He hasn't even had half of the shitstorm that's gonna hit him." He said with a lazy drawl.

"Devlin be rational, please!" She cried, her voice shaking with the intensity of her wail. She was angry, frustrated and worst of all tired at the same time.

He raised a brow and Pamela gritted her teeth in anger. The idiot could still do that? Raise one arrogant and finely carved brow in a manner that still made her heart go aflutter with love? How did God give him the ability to do things that made her endeared to him despite her anger?

"He's blind for God's sakes." She continued when she realized he was not going to give her a reaction that was more than the brows. "You can't just scare him like that, Devlin. We have to treat the handicapped with love, tolerance and affection."

"No shit, I have to write that down." He tapped his pockets as if looking for a pen.

Pamela heaved an irritated sigh. "I have to go back to explain to him –"

"No way."

"I want to!"

"I said no."

"Who gave you the right to make decisions for me?" Pamela asked, annoyed.

"Your dad."

Pamela scoffed scornfully. "Well he's not here anymore, is he? He has no right over me just like you don't."

"You moved on pretty fast."

Pamela swallowed against the tight knot that started to form in her throat. Move on? She almost laughed out loud. There was no moving on from losing her parents. Time, they say, will heal all wounds and while time had healed hers, it had failed to completely efface the pain, even though it had been reduced from the overwhelming and profound pain to a dull, occasional throb. But it was there nonetheless, as tranquil as a clock but still there as a painful reminder.

"The same way I moved from yours." She replied, tongue-in-cheek.

It seemed he saw through the insincerity in what she said because he ignored it. "Pamela, you need to trust me."

"Trust you? Don't make me laugh." She folded her arms beneath her breasts. "If there's anyone I trust it's Marcel because I have been with him for three years, while you, you're a stranger. I don't know what you've been doing all these time, so no, I don't trust you."

"Then don't. Trust our love instead but trust me when I say he doesn't deserve any kindness from you."

"Neither do you. Now get out of my face."

She tried to push past him but he held her arms in an iron tight grip. "Never."

"Devlin why are you doing this?"

"I love you, and I can't lose you again."

"How will going to explain things to a poor, blind man make you lose me? He's not going to yell abracadabra and vanish into thin air with me, will he?"