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My body is mine.
When he says zero—when I’m able to move my limbs—I’m up. Alive. Filled with light and desperate for his warmth.
I climb into Marcus’s embrace, still naked. Cum leaks from my pussy to his slacks as I straddle him. His shirt crumples as my fingers clutch onto it.
“I haven’t remembered any of that.” I don’t let up on his shirt, even when his hands slide up to squeeze mine for comfort. “Why couldn’t I remember any of that?”
“Shh.” Marcus cups my cheeks, drawing me to him, pressing my forehead to his. The cruel Marcus is gone. He’s gotten what he came for. “You should rest. We’ll discuss this later.”
Later.
I trust him. I love him.
For the time being…that’s enough.
It has to be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Marcus
Leighton’s cheek feels soft beneath my lips.
Her breaths are shallow. Her body is warm, cradled into mine. Her hand rests on my bare chest, connecting the two of us. Making us one.
We’ve been spending the night in the same bed for the past three days. Ever since her revelation. Ever since she realized I’m not the problem. She now knows down to her marrow that she doesn’t have to stay away because of me, per se.
Her memories have conditioned her to do it. Because an unhinged, reckless version of me will miss the signs. It’ll let Rylan hurt her.
Ever since, both of us have found peace in the knowledge that she won’t leave me.
Leighton hasn’t tried to fight me on it. Even though I haven’t explained everything to her, she’s mine.
And my cruel side has been put to rest. I’m nowhere near what you’d call a cinnamon roll. That’d never be me. I am, however, kinder. Less on edge.
It was less of a conscious decision and more of a natural progression.
I haven’t had the need to shake Leighton to her core. I don’t have to push her. Don’t say moon without a warning.
In my calm state, I allow her mind to process the things that had been kept locked down for almost a decade. That’s all I do for now.
Until then—until I decide otherwise—I’m enjoying this downtime alongside her.
It’s wrong, though, to stall. We don’t have time for this. For delaying the inevitable.
The pain will come whether I tell Leighton the truth today or tomorrow or next year. No one wants to hear their best friend intended—scratch that, still intends—to kill them.
Sadly, the overwhelming proof will leave her no choice but to believe it.
As painful as it might be. And fuck, will it be. I remember how I agonized over it the first time I learned what my daughter had been up to.
The day in our garden—the day I dug and found that—was one of the hardest of my life.
Sure, I’d had my suspicions. Alexa’s and Sylvia’s disappearances were unexpected. Abrupt. One day, we were a happy couple, and the next, I’d get dumped and ghosted after a cryptic text.
Rylan just wasn’t herself, not entirely, while I’d dated. Once they were gone, her smile returned to be natural. Her voice less shrill.
After Sylvia, I couldn’t sleep. It made no sense.
