150. Mine
CHAPTER 150
MINE
MARGAUX
T immy is dead.
The words don’t feel real. They float in the air like smoke, curling into my mind but refusing to settle.
I first hear about it on the news. I’m curled up on the couch, a glass of rosé in my hands, when the anchor’s voice cuts through the room.
“This just in—a murder-suicide has left two individuals dead in a cabin in Montana. The victims have been identified as Timothy O’Malley and his father, Philip O’Malley.”
I leap to my feet, glass in hand, getting as close as possible to the TV, as if that might give me additional information.
The anchor continues. “Authorities are currently investigating the involvement of Dexter Barrett, who is already in custody.”
Dex’s mugshot flashes on the screen, and my world stops.
I gasp, the wine glass slipping from my hands. The glass crashes to the floor, shattering into a hundred jagged pieces. I barely notice. My heart feels like it’s doing the same thing in my chest.
“No,” I whisper. My voice is barely audible over the pounding in my ears. “No, no, no…”
I stagger back, my legs buckling as I sink to the floor. My body feels disconnected from my mind, like I’m watching myself from above, a broken puppet with severed strings.
The night stretches on endlessly.
I can’t sit still. My thoughts race, each one colliding into the next until they’re an unrelenting tangle of confusion and fear. I pace the living room, my feet crunching over the shards of glass I still haven’t cleaned up.
Timmy is dead.
Dex is in jail.
Do I finally get to be free of Timmy, only to have Dex ripped away from me?
The thought is unbearable.
Timmy, the man who tormented me, who broke me down piece by piece until I was a shadow of myself—he’s gone. Forever.
And yet… the relief I thought I’d feel is tangled with something darker. He deserved to suffer for what he did to me, but I never imagined it would end like this.
And Dex. Oh god, Dex. My anchor, my protector, my safe harbor in a storm. The man who put me back together when I thought I was beyond repair. He’s gone too, locked away for a crime I can’t even begin to comprehend.
I feel like I’m drowning, pulled under by conflicting waves of emotion. Relief, guilt, anger, fear—it all swirls inside me, leaving me breathless.
The hours crawl by.
I stare at my phone, willing it to ring, praying for some kind of answer, some clarity. I want to scream, to cry, to throw something, but I’m frozen, trapped in this limbo of not knowing.
What happened? Did Dex really kill him?
My heart tells me no. Dex wouldn’t… would he ?
But my head is less sure. I know how fiercely protective he is of me, how much he despised Timmy for everything he put me through. I saw the darkness in his eyes when he talked about wanting to make things right, about making Timmy pay.
Still, the Dex I know—the Dex I love—isn’t a murderer.
Is he?
I collapse onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. Hot tears spill down my cheeks, and I let them fall. There’s no one here to see me break down, no one to hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay.
Dex was that person for me.
And now he’s gone, too.
As the first rays of sunlight creep through the blinds, I make a decision.
I can’t just sit here, paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. I need answers. I need to know what happened.
I grab my laptop and start searching for something—anything—that will help me to figure out what’s going on. How I can help.
Because whatever it takes, I’ll fight for Dex. Just like he fought for me.
I won’t lose him. Not like this.
Not now.
THE NEXT DAY
I manage to find out which jail Dex is locked up in.
A couple of calls later, and I’m able to figure out who his lawyer is.
“He’s going to be let out in a couple of hours,” the lawyer explains. “Just got to get a judge to sign off on the charges being dropped.”
Three long hours later, I hear Dex’s motorcycle before I see it, and as soon as he comes into view, I run up and into his arms. “Oh Dex,” I exclaim. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay,” he grins. “I get to be with you for the rest of my life.”
My heart warms and my pussy clenches at the thought.
We spend the next few hours with Dex updating me on what he’d been keeping from me.
“I would have done it, you know,” Dex says, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“Done what?” I ask. He must be talking about one of two things. “Unloaded the dishwasher?”
“Very funny,” he rolls his eyes. “Stop using humor to deflect hard things. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I actually came very close… too close…”
He closes his eyes for a moment and I pull him close. “But you didn’t. That’s what matters.” I pause. “Wow, you really would have done all that for me?” Reality sinks in.
“I would have,” he says. “That’s the problem. I’m not a good man, Margaux.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say, brushing his own hair out of his eyes. “You’re loving, caring, kind, protective, strong?—”
“I’d do anything for you, Margaux,” he says. “Anything at all. Even kill.”
“I’m not finished,” I put a finger up to silence him. “—and very, very sexy.”
“Oh yeah?” he growls.
I bite my bottom lip, my gaze not leaving his. “Oh yeah.”
“And what are you going to do about that?” he asks, grabbing me without warning and hoisting me over his shoulder as he walks us in the direction of the bedroom.
“I’d like to show, not tell,” I giggle and he laughs. We close the door behind us and we both leap onto the bed.
He wraps his arms around me and I melt into him. His body is perfection, melding against my own.
Firm and warm and delicious.
He yanks off his shirt and I pull my own top over my head, and as I lean down to kiss him I run my hands over his rippling chest and abs.
He’s divine.
And he’s all mine.