She blinks. Her brows draw tight. “Youwhat?”
I don’t react, even though she’s so fucking cutewhen she’s frustrated. At least, it helps sober me up from the heady effect of her lips on mine.
Doesn’t help the painful stiffness in my cock, though. That’s here to stay.
I won’t use it yet. As much as I want to show her that everything so far was just a hint of the pleasures to come, I’ll wait.
I need her to need it as badly as I do.
And so far, I think she justwantsit.
I’m sure she thinks she needs it, but I haven’t taught her what it is to truly fuckingneed.
“The department approved it. No questions asked, given the killer’s taunts. Now we can focus on what actually matters.”
“You had no right?—”
“I had every right. Your safety matters more than that badge ever did. More than the law. You’re mine now. And the rules don’t apply to us.”
I watch her try to fight it. Try to hold onto the system that’s failed her again and again.
But then it hits: that flicker of fire.
She wants to burn everything down, too.
I’ll light the match.
Let it all crumble. Let them scream.
I will go to war for her until there’s nothing left but blood and her name in my mouth.
30
GISELLE
On the third morning,Roman finally returns.
The days have crawled by like a hangover. Each morning I wake with a jolt, waiting for the sky to fall. It hasn’t yet. Maybe tomorrow.
I’m not a “vacation” type of person. I’ve never had more than two days off in a row. I teach Dakota to play spit and we watch TV until she falls asleep. Sometimes I hear Rosa and her talking behind closed doors in words I can’t understand other than a random one here and there.
The mansion feels less like a fortress and more like a series of interconnected cells: I pace the halls, run the perimeter, eat what’s in the kitchen, and wonder where the fuck Roman is.
He left the morning after we talked and hasn’t returned since.
So much for partnership.
The mark on my shoulder is fading. Too soon to say if it’ll leave a scar.
Maybe he won’t come back. Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore, now that he knows who I am.
What I’ve done.
Not to him. He still doesn’t know that, as far as I can tell. I don’t think he would have left me here with Rosa and Dakota if he knew that I’d betrayed him. I mean the role I played in what happened to Serena.
He told me it wasn’t my fault, but isn’t that just what you’re supposed to say?
Those thoughts are just me being cruel to myself, but the silence stretches longer each day, gives me more space to ruminate and regret.
