"He can be a little overbearing," I mumble, looking at the dark floor where wood meets carpet at the threshold.
"You're one to talk," she mutters. "Overbearing is better than stalking."
With a grin, I walk into the room and sit beside her on the bed, far enough away to let her breathe, close enough she could reach me if she needed to. "Make no mistake. He does just as much stalking as I do. He just does all of his from the comfort of a screen and I prefer to do mine in person."
Mostly.
She's already been through enough today. There's no reason to tell her right now that I also enjoy watching her from behind the safety of my phone screen.
"Are you tired?" I ask when she says nothing.
Shaking her head, she lies back onto the smooth sheets anyway. "I've slept most of the day, then went straight into fight or flight. I think I'm still a little wired."
I nod, my gaze drifting over her, soaking in the quiet comfort of her in my home, lying on a bed I made, in a house I own, safe in our little bubble of my own making.
"I think you'll probably crash soon," I tell her. "You've been through a lot of tiring things tonight."
That's an understatement, honestly.
The fight for her life, obviously. And then having to almost immediately play pretend with Sky, followed by her facing the demon under my skin that wants nothing more than to see how she looks with blood welling at her thighs and dripping between them.
I tried desperately to keep the darkest parts of my desire for her under control, but there's no denying sheneededit.
She needed her fear and guilt to be stolen from her.
Guilt for killing someone.
Guilt for wanting me.
The terror she feelsbecauseshe cares so deeply for me. She needed an escape from it for a little while. And I needed to see and hear her coming undone for me again.
Her completely soaking the kraken tattoo was unexpected. I think even she was surprised at just how good it felt to unravel in my arms. Watching her writhe back and forth, taking what she needed from me left me in shambles, lost to her curves and the way every muscle worked together until she cried out, coming all over my leg.
Maybe her sitting on my thigh and licking herself off of it wasn't thehealthiestdistraction from the horrors she saw tonight, but it's the one she needed.
"I just..." she sighs. "I don't think I could sleep right now. Every time I close my eyes, I s—" a choked sob falls from her mouth.
Looking over my shoulder, I find her with the back of her arm covering her mouth, trying to keep the emotion locked in there.
She hasn't had any time to process, and now it's catching up with her.
"It's okay," I assure her, placing my hand on her knee in what Ihopeis a comforting gesture. "You witnessed something terrible tonight. You were almost—" I can't bring myself to say any of the possibilities that might have happened. "It's going to be a while before you feel secure enough to relax."
Her voice shakes, "How are you so...fineright now?"
A heavy breath slips out as I lie down beside her, my eyes on the cream ceiling. "I don't know. It's easy to say that it's because I'm glad he can't hurt you. It would be just as easy to say that it had to be done, and I hate that it happened that way.
"But the unfortunate truth, Brigit, is that... I don't care that I killed someone. I was so afraid of what it might feel like to do it. If I might feel powerful afterwards and want to chase that high. But I don't. He needed to die, and it happened. Theonlything I feel is relief that you're okay."
She sniffs, and her hand finds mine on top of the bedding, winding her warm fingers through it until our palms press together.
"I hated pulling the trigger," she confesses. "He looked so scared."
I don't give a fuck that he was scared.
Telling her that wouldn't help anything, so instead, I turn to look at her, watching a tear drip from the corner of her eye down her temple before disappearing into her hair. "You looked terrified, and it didn't stop him. Don't give him more regard than he was willing to spare you."
Only seconds before I came through the sliding glass door, I heard the gunshot, the sound so jarring I nearly lost my balance. I would have broken that fucking door to let myself in if I needed to.
