I am hers. I’d pull the stars from the sky if she asked for them. And I intend to show her that I mean it.
Nothing is as important as keeping her safe and mine. Whatever mattered before, doesn’t mean shit today.
Well, that’s not entirely true... I still want that evidence. Now more than ever. Not because it’ll help keep my father or the people he does business with out of jail.
Not even because it will keepmeout of jail and alive.
It’s because once I have that evidence, I have Hailey’s safety. Rhett won’t touch her. No one will touch her.
The evidence is leverage.
I’ll find it. It’s only a matter of time, but a problem for another day. Right now, I have more pressing concerns.
Vaughn’s desperation doesn’t bode well. There must be some reason other than my father that got Vaughn so bent out of shape about Hailey’s safety. Rhett’s unpredictable, but Vaughn knows better than to think he’d hurt his daughter.
It’d be a one-way ticket to a life behind bars. Surely Vaughn doesn’t believe Rhett’s that stupid.
So what spooked him enough to hide Hailey at Lakeside?
What am I missing?
I fucking hate this game and I hate that Hailey’s the epicenter. It’s a joke that the person most tangled in this web of sophisticated lies is the person most in the dark.
She knows she’s in danger but has no idea about the mess she’s in thanks to Alex. She doesn’t know the only reason she’s still alive is because Babyface ran out of time before he could put a bullet in her head to match Alex’s.
She doesn’t know her mind holds a key.
She’s oblivious, asleep beside me, her cold feet tucked between my thighs, hair scattered across the pillow, perky butt flush with my groin.
New... all of this. Holding her, caring about her,feelingthings I never felt before... new, scary, and wrong.
She deserves better.
If I were a decent man, I’d tell her the truth. But I’m not a decent man. I’m selfish and in too deep to risk the truth. It wouldn’t set us free. It’d shatter her trust in me. I’d lose my chance to find the evidence before anyone else.
I’d loseherand that’s not an option.
It will never be an option.
She’s mine and I’m hers. Her virgin blood still marks my chest, proving I had her first. It doesn’t hold any value in this day and age. Virginity is only important because its end signifies the start of a life of experiences, not because it’s some fucking token of purity.
That’s small-minded thinking.
But... the psychotic part of me feels like the king of the fucking world knowing I introduced her to sex, even if it didn’t go down the way it should.
We didn’t talk about why she thought she’d already had sex. Why the thought she might be a virgin never occurred to her. The evening was too perfect to ruin it by combing through the past.
We’ll get to that in time.
I rise on my elbow behind her, my other hand under the comforter, around her middle, holding her close for a while before I sneak out for a twelve-hour drive to Chicago.
Three hours ago, I was looking forward to a break from Lakeside but now I dread leaving Hailey alone. I don’t want to lose her from my sight. I don’t trust her to take care of herself.
Brushing a tangle of hair that fell across her forehead, I map out her peaceful face. She’s so fucking pretty, somehow even prettier than the first day I saw her. There’s simplicity in her features, small nose, round cheeks, full lips. No freckles, no blemishes other than the scars covering her body. Each tells a story and, one day, I’ll ask about every single one.
Even in the muted light filtering through the heavy curtains the angry hickey on her neck stands out against her milky skin.
To think that a few weeks ago, my task was to break her...
