I felt the smile grow. Tense, but hopefully good enough to pass as real. “I just got out of a long relationship,” I told him, gesturing to the scars on my face again. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”
His eyes flicked to my cheeks and back. “We could have fun, and if he ever came back, having me around wouldn’t be a bad idea,” he offered.
A nice idea, but Steven was never coming back, and if he was alive, and he had the bright idea of coming near me again, I’d honestly rather have the wrong side of justice in my back pocket than the right side. As horrible as that was, I’d rather him dead than in jail for a few months before he was inevitably released. But just before I was going to answer, the radio went off, talking of a burglary downtown.
“Ah,” he said, turning it down and standing. “That’s me. Thinkabout it? We could have some real fun, I promise you that.”
I nodded, allowing a pressed smile as Lucy tracked him down the stairs.
As soon as his back was to me, I frowned, turning back to the dog. A couple of weeks ago, I was grateful that there was an officer living down the street from me, now I hated it. I hated that he was hitting on me, that he didn’t seem like the type to take no for an answer.
It was fine though. I would handle it. It wasn’t like I didn’t have cameras everywhere around my house. If Everett thought something was up, he would deal with it.
Until then, I wanted to write.
~~~
I was in my bedroom, staring out the window, watching that sun set. The orange fading to dark blue, the stars coming out.
I stood, pacing the room, sanding my hands together only to grab the chess piece as I stopped in front of the window.
I had spent the day just trying to kill time until this moment. I had cleaned, done my laundry, I even called and talked to Stella, who seemed completely understanding of what happened to me when I came to visit. I even invited her over, telling her that I would love to see she and Baily again.
She was grateful for the invite and told me she would get back to me.
I may have a real friend. A normal, everyday, regular woman as a friend. I was excited about the prospect, but even that conversation only killed about 20 minutes.
But now? Now it was 9:43PM. The sun was fully gone, and the moon was out.
I turned to my bed, my heart skipping a beat. Okay. This was it. This was when I figured out the truth. The real truth aboutwhat that mark on my leg meant. The truth about what I had promised after following his lead.
I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. I took off my shoes, my socks, and pulled back the blankets, Lucy watching me curiously. I crawled into bed and slowly pulled the blankets over my head, turning on my phone flashlight on the lowest setting.
I rolled onto my stomach and slid my hand under my pillows, sliding it around until I froze, my fingers touching a piece of paper.
My heart skipped and I pulled it out, lighting the envelope up to see my name written in Everett’s scrawl. Beautiful and swooping, like some sort of artist.
My breath caught and I quickly set my phone up, ripping into it, pulling the paper out, heart racing.
Hello, little writer,
Here we are again, a page in our story that I’m sure you’ll store away like you did the last one.
I frowned. I only kept the last one because I was going to throw it in his face that he was a damn dick. It wasn’t out of anything other than malice that I kept that letter.
I suppose until it shifted into something more. Until the day, not long after he and Evie left, that I had held it above that trashcan only to tuck it away. I didn’t know why I did it then, but I was glad I had.
Just make sure you keep this one in a more secure place than a book on your shelf. It was far too easy to find.
You, Olivia, need to read and understand this letter carefully. Your contract is already signed, so thechoice you make after reading this will define the rest of your life. I would hate to end it so early because you decided to step back, but I feel I know you well enough to know that your stubbornness and attitude will keep you in the game for as long as I want you.
And I want you. Severely.Probably more than I will ever admit in clear words out loud
First, I should tell you that this goes against everything I was raised to be. You were not supposed to be an option in my life, and I’ve been fighting that truth since I first saw you running through the park with your wolf hound.
It came to a catalyst when I read your secret stories. Stories so sick and twisted, part of me wondered if your inspiration wasn’t Azrael. Your defiance, your anger, your spoken and written words, every part of you calls to me in ways I wish it wouldn’t. In ways I can no longer deny, so I took what was mine. I took you. I marked you. I claimed you.
Being claimed by one of us means being chained to that person for the rest of your days. It’s far deeper than marriage, far deeper than anything you could put words to. It’s something my brothers and I came up with a long time ago because we are the kind that the conventional world just doesn’t work for. We had to come up with something that matched who we are, and we came up with this.
