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It took me a few days to connect the dots. To sneak out in the middle of the night to my daughter’s new favorite spot in our backyard.
The gruesome sight had me choking. Understanding who was behind it felt like someone was carving my heart out.
I called in sick for a week. Showered my daughter with love. Loathed myself for the world I brought my daughter into. The things that her mother’s death made her do.
Most of all, I despised myself for missing out on the signs. Looking back—really, truly delving into every part of my past—they were there.
My daughter wore a mask. One a narcissistic, psychopathic sociopath wears.
Had I noticed it sooner, maybe I could’ve done something to prevent Rylan from going off the deep end. I could’ve protected the other women.
Could’ve saved Ry from being a…
Murderer.
My daughter could’ve gotten the help she needed. I’d have forced it on her whether she agreed to it or not. For her sake, more than anything.
Once the women were gone, though, there was nothing I could’ve done about that, as miserable as it made me feel.
I decided then to spare other lives by not dating. Years later, it was when I knew I’d avoid being around Leighton the way I wanted to at all costs.
Shaking myself to the present moment, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. Train my gaze on the sleeping woman beside me.
I’d been too late and way too fucking neglectful on two occasions. I’m making amends now.
I. Will. Make. This. Work.
Rays of light play on Leighton’s beautiful face. Where the harsh sun of the early morning turns my features into stone, it injects softness into Leighton’s. Illuminates her in a warm glow. Bathes her in an ethereal aura.
Her pink hair glistens. Her eyelashes curl at the ends, long and thick.
The rest of her naked body is better than art. It’s downright godly.
Each curve, each valley and mountain. The cute dip to her navel and the roundness of her thighs.
Perfect.
And mine.
I. Will. Make. This. Work.
My hand slips from her arm to the space between her breasts. Her heart beats there.
I’ve been listening to her heart for the last couple of hours.
I want more.
Venturing lower, I coast my fingers along her stomach, stopping at her pussy. Her skin breaks into goosebumps wherever I touch. My cock jerks at her responsiveness.
No matter how many years pass—how many days I spend by her side—I’ll never quit this habit. This love. This obsession. I’m constantly aroused around her, and that’ll last forever too.
There’s no question about it.
I’ll always love and want her as if it’s the first time I laid my eyes on her.
“Mmm,” my Leighton hums as the tip of my middle finger parts her lips.
The hum transforms into a groan as I press it to her swollen clit. The beautiful pink thing has been abused by me throughout the night. Licked and sucked until she broke down in tears.
