"I love you too," I said, and meant it.
He moved faster, his rhythm building toward that edge we both knew, and I held on to his shoulders and letmyself fall. The orgasm built slow and then crashed over me like a wave, and I cried out something that might have been his name or might have been prayer. He followed seconds later, my name on his lips like a benediction.
Afterward, we stayed tangled together on the counter, breathing hard. The coffee had gone cold. Outside, the city was waking up, traffic sounds drifting up from the street below.
"I should shower," I said eventually.
"Stay a little longer."
"I'll be late."
"Matt can wait." He kissed my forehead, gentle now. "Five more minutes."
I stayed.
The shower was hot enough to turn my skin pink, and I stood under the spray longer than necessary, letting the water wash away the lingering ache between my thighs. Nathan had left for his morning run—his discipline about fitness was one of the things I admired about him, the way he maintained his body like a weapon kept sharp—and I had the apartment to myself.
The vitamin bottle sat on the bathroom counter where I'd left it yesterday. I'd been taking them every morning since Nathan had suggested them—something about supporting my system after the chemical damage Gabriel had done. I trusted Nathan's judgment on medical matters. He'd been the one to help me through thewithdrawal, the nightmares, the moments when my body remembered things my mind tried to forget.
I shook out two pills into my palm and paused.
One of them was different.
Smaller. Slightly more yellow than white. A shape that didn't quite match the others.
I held it up to the light, studying it. The vitamin company probably just had quality control issues. That happened sometimes with supplements—Nathan had mentioned it before, when I'd asked about a previous bottle that had seemed off. He'd explained about manufacturing tolerances and natural variations in ingredients.
I should take it. I should trust that Nathan knew what was best for my body, the way I trusted him with everything else.
Instead, I wrapped the strange pill in a square of toilet paper and tucked it into the back of the medicine cabinet, behind the spare shampoo. Then I swallowed two of the normal ones and finished my shower.
The flashback hit while I was getting dressed.
One moment I was buttoning my shirt—a soft cotton blouse in pale pink, Nathan's favorite color on me—and the next I was somewhere else entirely. A basement. Concrete floor. The smell of copper and fear. My hands were wrapped around a pair of pliers, and the man in the chair was screaming.
"Tell me about the shipment,"I heard myself say, my voice bright and cheerful as a bird."Tell me about the girls, and maybe I'll let you keep the rest of your fingers."
He babbled something—names, dates, locations—and I made careful notes in my phone. Nathan stood in the corner, arms crossed, watching me work. His expression was unreadable, but when I glanced at him for approval, he nodded once.
"Good girl,"he said.
The words hit like a physical blow, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. Then the flashback faded, and I was back in my bedroom, my hands shaking, my reflection in the mirror showing a woman I almost recognized.
"Bunny?" Nathan's voice from the doorway made me jump. "You okay?"
"Fine." I smoothed my blouse, forced a smile. "Just... remembered something. From the old days."
His expression flickered—concern, maybe, or something sharper. "Want to talk about it?"
"It was nothing. Just the Anderson job."
"The one with the pliers?" He moved closer, his hand finding the small of my back. "That was a good mission. You got excellent intel."
"I know." I leaned into his touch, letting it ground me. "I just... sometimes I forget how easy it is. The violence."
"It's a tool." His thumb traced circles on my spine. "Like any other. And you use it to protect people. That's not something to be afraid of."
"I'm not afraid."
