22. Sawyer
Chapter 22
Sawyer
I held her in my arms, repeating those words. You did so good. You’re safe. Soon, her tears reared their full, ugly heads, and she sobbed into me. I never stopped saying those words. She was okay, and I was never going to let anyone touch her like that again. I didn’t care if she never wanted me back; until the day I died, I would make sure she was safe.
Eventually, she stopped crying, each exhale coming out in a smooth, mellow breath. She needed to be hydrated and given time to rest, but we could deal with that later. Right now, she needed comfort. We both did.
She looked up at me. “Do we need to go?”
I nodded. Erica had a silencer, but eventually, the cops would show up. And though our contacts in the police department would help us, we had to keep up our end of the bargain: making sure that everything was as clean as possible. I called one of my hunters who was the best at taking care of the cleanup.
“On their way,” I told Fiona. “What do you need? ”
She blinked up at me, trying to focus. “What?”
“Food. Water. Bathroom.”
She laughed softly, stunned by the words, as if she didn’t expect me to ask about those things. She fell into my arms then, and I held her as close as I could, smoothing her hair, enjoying this small moment when she was truly coming to me for comfort. And I knew, then, that I was going to protect and nurture her forever. As long as she’d let me.
But after this, she might never come to me again.
Though it killed me, I had to let her live her life. She needed a game of her own, a chance at her dream, even if it was without me.
Eventually, a team showed up, ready to make the place look like Erica had disappeared off of the grid like her husband had. And if someone raised an eye at Hatchcom Focus dissolving at the same time, we had the paperwork to ensure that nothing was amiss.
Though they moved around us, shifting around the house and washing the stains, I kept my arms wrapped around Fiona, matching her deep breaths, trying to make sure she felt calm and secure.
One of the men stopped over the corpse, nudging it with his foot.
“What do you want to do with it, boss?” he said.
Fiona glanced up at me, raising a brow.
“Load it into my car,” I said.
“You’re calling Erica an ‘it’?” Fiona asked.
I stared at her, knowing that anything I would say might hurt. The guilt was surfacing in Fiona, making her want to protect Erica’s memory.
But Erica hadn’t cared about her.
“You did it to protect me,” I said, trying to reassure her. She shrank back down, and after a minute, she pressed herself close to me. It was a lot to process. I had grown up around death. There were things you did to cope. Call a corpse an ‘it.’ Kill as a way to blow off steam. You couldn’t let the corpses disturb corpses, or you’d become one yourself.
But Fiona? Her life had been sheltered from all of that. And yet, she was here, nestled under my arm.
I helped her into my SUV, her body still off-balance from the drugs, then got into the driver’s seat.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Your sister,” I said.
Her shoulders relaxed, and for the first time in a while, a small smile crossed her lips. That confirmed it for me; I knew what she needed. Even when she didn’t.
By the time we made it back to the farm, she had finished her bottle of water and was sitting up fairly straight. Maisie met us in front of the house, Wilder looming behind her, making sure nothing got near her. I hadn’t understood his need to be around his wife before, but now I understood it.
“What the hell?” Maisie asked. “How did you?—”
Fiona threw her arms around Maisie, and the two sisters hugged each other, not letting go. Finally, after they had exchanged embraces, Fiona pulled back.
“I can see why you didn’t tell me about your husband,” Fiona said. Wilder acknowledged her statement with a dip of his chin, and Maisie laughed.
“At least I got to work up to that moment where I learned he was a killer. Not you.” Maisie shook her head. “It was sprung on you. That’s pretty intense.”
Fiona glanced over her shoulder at me. “Very intense,” she said.
I rubbed my forehead, and Fiona turned back to her sister. The two of them went inside of the house and I called one of our clients, a private doctor who worked off the clock for us. He checked me over quickly, urging me to rest and let him take x-rays, but I ushered him to Fiona; she was the one he needed to worry about. And once he said she needed to let the drug work out of her system and let her bruised face heal, I relaxed.
When Fiona came out to the front room, I gestured toward the pastures. Erica’s body was already in the Dairy Barn, but we still needed to destroy it.
“You want to come with me to put the corpse in the incinerator?” I asked.
She wrinkled her nose. “No way.”
I nodded, then walked there by myself. Slid the door open. My heart pounded, knowing that this would be over soon. Fiona would be gone. And for what? The Feldman Farm didn’t matter to me.
Not unless I had her.
I picked the corpse up in both arms, then shoved the body inside, shutting the door before I switched on the machine.
A hand slid around my back.
Fiona lifted her shoulders. “I changed my mind,” she said, her voice reluctant.
I stared at her for a moment, my heart heavy, but hopeful. This was why I had hated her. These things she could make me feel. Like love. And hope.
It was also why I loved her.
“Sometimes it’s better to watch them disappear,” I said.
“Did you watch your father burn?”
I stretched my fingers. “I put the bullet in his chest. I didn’t need to.”
It would take hours before the corpse was reduced to bone fragments. But the machine hummed, and the two of us stood there. My hand twitched, wanting to hold hers. I didn’t know why Fiona was there, but I had to say something to make it right. Trading my life for hers wasn’t enough for what I had done.
“There’s no other way to say this.” I held my forehead. “I messed up. I hurt you. And I guess”—I threw up my hands—“I thought that was what I wanted. To show you that you weren’t invincible. That none of us were. That you could be just as vulnerable as I was, even if you lived this protected, normal life.” I locked eyes with her. “But that didn’t feel good. I hated seeing you like that.”
She glared at me. “You were a dick.”
She was right. “I’m sorry.”
“I can forgive you, but I don’t know if I can forget what you did.” I let out a long breath, bracing myself. How could anyone forgive someone like me? “You’re a killer, but I am too.” With those words, her whole body quivered. “But I couldn’t let her do that to you. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand your family’s business.” She shook her head, her forehead scrunched. “But maybe I don’t have to. Maybe I just need to trust you.” She sighed deeply. “But you almost let me kill myself or kill you, Sawyer, so I don’t know if I can trust you.”
Those words sunk into me. How could I expect her to feel any differently? Her distrust of me was well-deserved.
She reached for my hand, a warmth surging through my arm, straight to my heart.
“But I want to try,” she said. “We were both being stubborn.” She tilted her head. “Maybe one of us was more stubborn than the other, but sometimes we don’t know what we’re doing until we’re already halfway through it. Trust me, I know. ”
Her copper eyes sparkled with light, and I knew that this was where I was meant to be. Gazing into her eyes, knowing I could feel something other than the desire for power.
The desire to protect and cherish her.
“You know I love you, right?” she said, like I had said to her by the lake. “I mean, I just killed for you, so I can’t really deny it anymore.”
I grinned, scooping her into my arms, kissing her harder than I ever had.
“I love you so damned much,” I said. Then I carried her across the farm, to my car, leading her back to my penthouse.
A few days later, when our swelling had gone down and Fiona was up to it, I took her to the library. It was still closed. After what had happened, reopening it was the last thing on my mind. And I wanted Fiona to have that honor.
“You’re putting me to work?” she asked. “Already?”
“Who the hell is going to run this place?” I asked. “You killed our potential manager.” She forced a smile, but clearly did not approve of my joke. “Check your desk.”
She picked up the dice, rolling them around in her palm. “Another game?”
“If it’s even, you win. And if it’s odd, I lose.”
She wrinkled her brows. “That means I win either way.”
“Check your drawer.”
Her hand clenched around a manila file. As she scanned it, her cheeks reddened.
“What is this?”
I came closer, then spun her around until she was nestled in my arms. Then I placed the document on the desk in front of her, arranging her body until each hand was on either side of the file.
“Here’s another game. One you’re familiar with.” I breathed onto her neck. “Read it aloud. Sign it. And when you’re done, I’m going to make you come so hard you’re always reminded who owns your pussy every time you see this desk.”
She sucked in a breath, then began to read: “ This purchase agreement, for the real property described below between Sawyer Feldman and Fiona Ross as described in Section— ” She turned to me, her eyes wide. “The library?”
I put my mouth on her neck, licking her sensitive skin, goosebumps emerging all over her. My hands wandered, squeezing her breasts through her button-up shirt. I pointed to the purchase price of one dollar.
“Can you handle that?” I asked, skimming my hands down to her pussy lips. She still wasn’t wearing any bra or panties. My dick throbbed for her.
She did it for me.
“Sawyer,” she whispered.
“I’m not going to do anything until you sign it,” I said. “Then I’m going to fuck my librarian.”
She quickly put her pen down to the signature and scribbled her name. I pressed my lips to hers, and she quaked underneath me. She was determined. Ambitious. An intelligent mind with one hell of a heart. And I didn’t deserve her, but somehow, she was giving me a chance. And there was nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do to make sure she was mine forever.
My brilliant librarian. My angelic plaything. My good girl.
I smacked her ass over the pants. She yelped, a giggle escaping her throat, and I growled. I loved that sound. I pulled down her pants, then smacked her ass until her cheeks were a beautiful bright red, sprinkled with purple dots, and I rubbed her warm skin.
“Please, Sawyer,” she whispered. “Please fuck me.”
I ripped off our clothes and thrust into her cunt. Luckily, the shutters were still closed. I wouldn’t mind giving a show, but as the new librarian, Fiona needed to keep her reputation intact. And I was happy to grant that. I would do anything for her.
“You’re such a good girl,” I said into her ear. “Always ready for me. My little slutty librarian is all mine. Always ready for my cock.”
“Yes, Sawyer,” she said, pressing into me. “I love you.”
My heart swelled. They were just words. But with Fiona? It was real. A dedication to each other that would never stop. When I hated her, despised her, loathed her, I still looked out for her. And now, now that I could accept my feelings, I would do absolutely everything to keep her safe and happy. Even if it came to giving up my family’s business to keep her safe. Even if it meant losing everything.
As long as I had her.
And I knew, more than anything else, that she would do the same for me.