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And this man really thought he could share me? The five years apart drove him so crazy, he went from my obsessed husband to a masked killer, stalking our old friends for sport in order to keep me for himself. I honestly did him a favor. Tommy, too. If I didn’t make Clay choose, he would’ve eventually snapped and turned on his best friend anyway the first time I fucked Tommy and Clay wasn’t involved. I know it to the marrow of my bones, just like how I hate that dead bitch Summer even more knowing that she was fucking Tommy at the same time I was.

Choose? Oh, no. There was never a choice. Not for any of us, but most of all, not for Clayton Rivers.

“God fucking damn it, Cyn, I love you so much,” he grates out between clenched teeth. “I never stopped. I never will.”

I lean down, tilting my forehead toward his as I grip his shoulders. His eyes are wild. Desperate. I could drown in theirdepths, and know that it would be as reckless as shoving my mother’s head beneath the water.

Infinitely more satisfying, too.

I grin at my husband.

“Oh, babe, Iknow.”