Page 80 of Sole Survivor
“There will never be nothing between us, Rue. And goddamn you for thinking I’d ever let you walk away.”
“Are you the Lullaby Killer, Valen?”
I hang up the phone, not wanting to lie to her but also knowing she’s not ready to hear the truth.
She stares at her phone before sliding it back into her pocket. She wipes her face with her sleeve and plasters a fake as fuck smile on her face just as Hask walks out with two coffees in hishand. I wonder if he knew how she took it without her having to tell him.
She only knows this side of him—the hero cop side, the one who rescued her from hell. She doesn’t notice how he looks at her or gravitates toward her like it’s something out of his control. I recognize the signs because I do the same thing myself. The difference is, he can’t have her because she’s fucking mine.
With one last look at them, I pull out and drive to work, making plans for what I’ll say and do when she comes home and what I’ll do if she doesn’t.
“Will you need me for anything else, sir?”
I look up from the papers at the sound of Fauna’s voice and see her standing in the doorway.
“No. Go home and enjoy your weekend.”
“Don’t stay too late. You look like crap.”
My lips twitch at her words. Never let it be said that the woman is scared of me. “Noted. By the way, I’m flying out to the East Coast tonight.”
“Anything I need to be concerned about?”
“No, I just need to finalize a couple of contracts and sign a few last-minute things. I’ll be back Sunday night.”
“You taking your lady friend?”
“Lady friend? You sound like my grandma. And no, I think she needs a little space.”
She frowns. “Everything okay?”
I sigh, resisting the urge to tell her she’s my employee and that this shit has nothing to do with her. “It’s all good. Like I said, I won’t be gone long.”
“Okay, well, I’ll have my cell phone if you need me. That being said, you’d better make sure it’s an emergency if you’re pulling me away from my husband.”
I grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“See that you do,” she replies primly before leaving.
Sighing, I toss the pen I’d been tapping on the desk with and lean back. My eyes feel dry from hours of staring at my computer screen. I check my cell phone and see a text from Rue, sent an hour ago, to say she was at home and that we needed to talk.
Something settles in me at the knowledge that she didn’t run. But then I remember what she wants to talk about, and I feel myself getting worked up again. I should go home and face Rue now. But I’m not ready to see her look at me with anything other than love in her eyes, so I stay, finishing up what I’d been working on instead.
Hours pass as I stall before I finally give in and head home. The house is dark when I pull in. The only light on is the one on the porch. I dismiss the guards, telling them to go home for the night. Though they might think it’s unusual, they know better than to argue with me. I get out of the car and head inside. Once I close the door, I strip out of my jacket and hang it on the hook, then kick off my shoes, leaving them on the floor beneath it.
I go upstairs to the bedroom, where I find Rue fast asleep in my bed, curled up in a ball. Standing at the foot of the bed, I undress and place all my clothes on the reading chair before I grab a bag from the closet. It’s already prepacked with a spare change of clothes and other things I’ll need later.
Behind where the bag was sitting is a shoebox. I reach for it and carry it to the bathroom. I lock the door before turning the light on and place the box on the counter. Lifting the lid, I take a moment to stare at the contents.
I pick up the thick wad of letters held together by an elastic band—all penned to me over the years by the same person—andhold them to my nose, wondering if there is any lingering scent. All I can smell is dust, indicating that it’s been a while since I last looked at them. As tempted as I am to sit and read through them all, I know I don’t have the time or the mental capacity for it tonight. I place them on the counter, my fingers stroking the words inked by a ghost, and turn my attention back to the box. I search until I find the photo I’m looking for.
I look at the familiar face and feel my gut churn. Putting the letters back in the box, I place the lid back on top and grab the photo. I turn the light off and open the door, giving my eyes a second to adjust before walking back to the closet. I put the box back where I found it and place the photo on the nightstand next to the bed.
Tugging the blanket away that had been covering her, I growl when I find her in a T-shirt and not naked like I’d hoped. Crawling onto the bed, I ease her onto her back and slide the T-shirt up her body until I can see her bare pussy. The crack in the drapes lets just enough moonlight through for me to see, and what I can’t, my imagination fills in.
I take my cock in my hand and stroke it, pumping my hand up and down my length. Using my other hand, I spread her legs, exposing her to me completely as my dick begins to weep with pre-cum. I circle her clit with my thumb, dragging a soft moan from her, but she doesn’t wake up.
I grin, getting a thrill out of it all. When she’s like this, she has no control over what I do to her, no choice but to surrender to my wants and needs. I don’t want to hurt her, but that doesn’t mean my cock doesn’t thicken and pulse at the idea of her being helpless beneath me.