Magner looks giddy now; he’s visibly excited. His eyes are gleaming; his lips are spread in a manic smile. I match the sentiment, for sure, because shit like this gets people like us off. Causing pain and discomfort to someone like Fredrick isequivalent to a trip to Disneyland, but unlikethatexperience, this one can’t be eclipsed.
Fredrick claws at Magner’s hand when he clutches strands of his hair in a fist. He then tries to twist his body in an attempt at breaking out of his hold, but quickly realizes that Magner’s strength far surpasses his pointless struggles.
As Magner drags Fredrick away from Cigs and I, the dense raking sound of fabric against grass fills my ears, accompanied by the sweet smell of crushed blades and Fred’s desperate, muffled groans. He goes back and forth between clutching his already injured neck to his scalp, which I’m pretty sure is throbbing in pain right now, given the vise grip of Magner’s fist.
“This is so satisfying,” Cignette says softly.
I glance at her, then get to my feet before walking over to her. Offering her a hand, I help her stand, then erase the short space between us by stepping close to her. For the first time since she was taken from me over an hour ago, I look at her.Reallylook at her. I study the purpling bruises on her angled face, along with the small scars scattered across her cheeks, her jaw, and her slender neck. With an invisible weight on my chest, I bring my right hand forward and gently push back the matted down hair clinging to her skin.
She winces at that, but lets me finger comb them back and behind her ears.
“I amsosorry,” I tell her, and feel my voice cracking a bit. “For not coming to you sooner; for getting so distracted with finding Timothy that I didn’t realize you might need me. I…” I sigh when she presses herself against me. “Baby, I am so fucking sorry.”
She shakes her head as her hauntingly beautiful eyes glaze over. “Stop.” She blinks and swallows, and I watch as a single tear slips down her waterline. “You couldn’t have known. Hell, I waswithTimothy, and he didn’t mention Fredrick being hereat all. So yeah, it’s safe to say that we were all blindsided by his presence, Dorran, just like we were by his actions.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I failed at keeping you safe, Cigs,” I say.
“Did I ask you to protect me? Have Ieverinsinuated that I need saving?”
“I–no. But–”
“Well, then fucking stop blaming yourself. That’s survivor’s guilt 101.”
“But you’re mine, Cignette, and I can’t see you like this,” I grit out, cupping the side of her face and aligning my face against hers. “You’remine, and absolutelyno onegets to hurt you and live. That is a luxury they lose the moment they decide to touch you.”
She smiles. “Iamyours,” she affirms. “And Iwantyou to give Fredrick tenfold the amount of pain he’s given me. But Dor, I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened to me tonight, because in our line of work, these things can be detrimental for our state of mind. Accountability is one thing, but outright accusing yourself isn’t reasonable.” She brings a hand forward and touches her bleeding palm to my jaw, then places the other on my chest. “Loving you is a fucking blood sport, Dorran, and I accepted my fate the night you climbed my balcony to see me after breaching my mother’s estate security. There’s no hesitation or doubt here; I know what I’m in for, and I’m perfectly fine with it.”
To say that I’m awestruck by her admission would be an understatement. As I study her – a breathtaking, physically maimed woman with the kind of strength not many possess – I feel a rush of something strong, something indescribable.
I run the pad of my thumb over the jagged cut on the side of her bottom lip, then lean in and kiss her. She inhales a soft breath as she parts for me, and when the taste of her blood hitsmy tongue, I close my eyes and let myself have this moment. I find comfort in the faint smell of her perfume as I hold her flush against me, and sigh when she wraps her lips around mine and kisses me harder.
There’s no feeling in this world more superior than the one of having Cignette in my arms. Of her beating heart reassuring me of her presence; of her delicate touches that are my kryptonite. She is my everything, plain and simple, and for her, I’ll incinerate the entire motherfucking cosmos if I have to.
I break the kiss and touch my forehead to hers. “I love you so much, Cigs,” I say. “Just like madness craves the wicked, I’m addicted to you. We are as close as two humans can be, yet I can’t help but ache for you. You’re my fucking anchor, baby, and without you, I know for a fact that I’d drown.”
She blinks as she studies me, then smiles and shakes her head a little. “Look at you, trying to woo me with words.”
I lift a shoulder. “Well, is it working?”
She chuckles. “It always does, doesn’t it?” she tells me. “And it always will; you know that already, you asshole.”
I grin, then run my knuckles over her cheekbone. “Good to know I’ve still got it in me.”
She rolls her eyes, but then her brows crease, and she stumbles against me, her hands swiftly grasping my forearms as she rights herself.
“Whoa, hey.” I hold onto her waist as she breathes heavily, her eyes seeming a bit out of focus. “Cigs, what’s wrong?”
She swallows and licks her lips, then sets a hand on my chest. “It’s nothing.”
I stare at her. “It’s not nothing, woman; you just tripped whilestanding.”
She opens her mouth to say something, most probably to deny my concern, but I stop her before she can give me an excuse.
“Look at me,” I tell her. “Look straight at me.”
She sighs and lifts her head, then brings her gaze to mine.
I shift closer to her still, and watch as her eyes track my movement.
