She flinches, just a small jerk of her shoulders.She nods, slowly, as if a part of her already knew.Maybe she just needed someone else to rip the wound open and bleed the truth for her.
"I still want to hear it from him," she says, voice harder now."I want to look him in the eyes.I want to hear him say it.Hear him admit what he fucking did.Hear him own it."
I see it.That fire, that rage in her.The betrayal carved so deep it’ll never fully heal.She’s not just chasing answers anymore.She’s chasing closure.And she’s ready to burn the whole world down just to get it.
"I’ll get you to him," I promise."And when he finally tells you the truth, Em..."I reach up, my thumb brushing along the sharp line of her jaw—grounding her, grounding myself."If you don’t want him breathing after that..."I lean in closer. "I’ll fucking end him for you."
I mean it.
Every goddamn word.
"Then we work out our plan," I add."But not before you get all the answers you deserve."
She lets the silence settle between us.Then I see the shift in her.The heartbreak twisting into something harder.Something sharper.That’s the thing about Emery… she doesn’t stay broken for long.She bleeds and then fucking burns.
She pulls the sheet tighter around her chest, and turns those fierce, wounded eyes back at me.
"If it’s true," she says, voice razor-edged, "and by what you’ve told me, it is..."
She swallows hard, jaw locking tight like she’s holding herself together with nothing but stubborn rage.
"Then we need to come up with a plan.Because once I face him and hear it from his mouth… I want to know what he did, why he did it, and what the fuck he was hoping for.Then we decide what we do next to survive."
She’s pissed off. Done being anyone’s pawn.
"I’m tired of waiting for someone else to make the next move," she snaps."If your father wants to come for me, fine.If mine still thinks he’s got a card left to play, let him fucking try.But I’m not walking blind into another ambush."She leans forward, voice hard as steel now."We take control.We stay in control.Whatever it costs.We decide the next move."
She’s right.No more letting these fuckers choose the battlefield.It’s time to take the fight to them.
I nod, my eyes never leaving hers."Then we start now," I say."No more looking over our shoulders.We hit first.We hit so hard they’ll never forget who they tried to fuck with."
She exhales, the weight of it all flashing across her face, but she doesn’t back down.
"We end it," she says."All of it.Starting with my father."
It’s been days.
Days of planning, fucking, and falling harder for her than I ever thought was possible.
We spend the time mapping out every move, every escape, every contingency, until we can recite it in our goddamn sleep.But mostly….mostly we spend it tangled up in each other.Fucking like we’re running out of time.Because shit, maybe we are.
Every moment I fall in love with her all over again.
Harder this time.
Deeper.
In ways I don’t even know are still possible for me.
The way she moans my name as she comes apart around my cock, clawing at my back like she’s trying to drag me deeper inside her.
The way her body fits against mine when we sit in front of the fire, her back pressed to my chest.My arms locked around her waist like I’ll fucking kill anything that tries to take her from me.
The way her laughter slips out, soft, real, wraps around me, a goddamn life raft in the sea I’ve been drowning in for years.
I memorize it all.
Every look.Every sound.Every goddamn inch of her.Because every second feels stolen.Every breath feels too fragile.And if the world comes for us tomorrow, I’m going down with her name in my mouth and her body imprinted on my fucking soul.
