Chapter 40
CHAPTER 40
BETH
M artin walks into the ring, leaving me by myself, and my fingers twitch from the anxiety coursing through my veins. Nigel approaches in time with his opponent as I try to keep my cool. Like Oliver said, Martin will be fine.
He can take him.
I’ve seen Nigel take down Martin with ease so many times that it’s hard to have that faith in Martin.
Since Nigel first told me about him getting into the ring, I’ve been worried about him everytime he steps inside, but that worry has transferred from him to Martin and been magnified.
Please, be okay.
The ref doesn’t even have the chance to say the rules before Nigel lunges for Martin, but Martin is faster, dodging out of Nigel’s path.
The ref gives up and gets out of the ring as Nigel goes for Martin again. Martin dodges him another time.
“Are you that much of a pussy?” Nigel snarls in anger.
“Nope. Not all, but I rather like hers though.”
Stop taunting him!
I know this is a part of the game. He has to keep the match going for so long for the entertainment of the match, but I really wish Martin would just end the fight already and it’s barely begun.
“I’m going to kill you,” Nigel warns, looking ten times as pissed off as he did a minute ago.
“I’m sure you can find a better reason to do it than hooking up with your ex. You didn’t mind when it was Casey, but you mind when it’s Beth? She dumped you. Did you forget that?”
Nigel charges again and tries to hit Martin, but Martin ducks out of the way and punches Nigel in the stomach hard. The wind is knocked out of him and he wheezes as Martin backs away, giving him breathing room.
“She doesn’t belong to you. She doesn’t belong to anyone. Not to me. Not to Oliver. Your whole she’s my property bullshit is the reason you lost her in the first place. You hurt her. Not just once but every fucking day you treated her like garbage. Can you really blame her for running away from you and straight to me? I’m just surprised she didn’t do it sooner.” Martin calmly shakes out his hand before he continues, “No matter what you do, how hard you fight, she’s not leaving with you tonight. No, no, no. She’ll be leaving with me and I’ll be the one sleeping next to her . Do you know why? Because compared to what you have done to her, I’m her fucking Prince Charming.”
I mean…he’s not wrong.
Martin has treated me with nothing but understanding, care, respect, and affection with no ulterior motives involved. The only ways he has wanted to get back at Nigel has been directly about how Nigel hurt me.
Nothing more.
Nothing less either.
Nigel’s rage intensifies and he goes for Martin again, but this time, Martin doesn’t hold back. He hits him again, again, and again. He hits him so hard and so many times I can’t keep track of their locations.
Nigel tries to hit him back but other than one Martin receives in the gut which he seems to not even notice, he can’t get him.
And, the entire crowd gasps as Nigel falls to the ground, receiving his first ever defeat in front of all of his adoring fans. Everyone watches him fall like a bag of bricks, crashing to the floor.
Some small voice in the back of my head begs me to run over and check that he’s okay, but that’s not my circus anymore. Not my monkeys either.
I don’t take any joy from him getting his ass handed to him, but I know it needed to happen and he deserved it. Every hit was for him holding me down, ignoring me when I screamed for him to stop. When his body hit the ground, it was retribution for him pretending not to see my tears or the way I would flinch from his touch after he raped me.
Martin walks away as his side of the crowd starts to cheer. He comes right over to me, wraps his sweaty arms around me and steals a fiery kiss, a kiss so powerful I’m surprised I’m still on my feet.
“Come on,” he says as he releases the kiss and drags my dazed ass behind him.
I hate to admit how surprised I am that he actually defeated Nigel. That’s no small task either. Nigel was undefeated. I should’ve had more faith in Martin but that’s hard to do when all the evidence I’ve seen shows the exact opposite of what he promised.
Martin escorts me back to the locker room and we slip inside the dimly lit space. The lights flicker as we walk over to where he abandoned his stuff. Instead of grabbing his things and leaving, he pulls me into him, running kisses up and down my neck while grabbing handfuls of my ass.
Someone is horny as fuck and I can’t say I’m unaffected. A moan falls from my mouth as I tilt my head back, giving him more room to work with.
“Take off your panties,” he demands and with very little effort, I shimmy out of them.
Anyone could walk in and see us, but I don’t give a damn. Hell, Nigel could walk in while Martin is mid-thrust and I wouldn’t give a fuck.
He lifts me up his body and I wrap my legs around his waist while using my feet to push down his shorts.
“Please, fuck me. I want everyone to hear me scream for you.”
He digs his teeth into my neck as he thrusts his cock in all the way, slamming his hips into mine until he is fully inside me. That familiar sting and ache greets me as he tugs down my shirt until my breasts are exposed.
Slamming my back into the lockers, Martin samples my tits as I greedily take him in and out of my needy cunt. Fuuuck. He feels so good.
“Fuck me harder,” I demand and he meets my command with zero resistance. He drills deeper and harder through my channel, taking all I can give. My jaw slacks as the scream is right on the tip of my tongue and he uses his thumb to circle my clit.
Then, the locker room door opens, the sound of skin slapping, Martin’s grunts, and my moans flowing out.
I look up and see Oliver standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. What the hell is he doing? Was the video I sent not enough? Does he need to see his cousin fuck me to get the point that I’m through with him?
I don’t tell him to leave. Instead, I hold his icy blue gaze as he watches me come undone for Martin, screaming from how good he’s making me feel.
“Atta girl,” Martin rasps as he releases my breast and moves his lips to my ear, whispering to me. “Was that orgasm for my cock or his eyes?”
Martin knows Oliver is watching us and doesn’t seem to mind at all.
“Both,” I gasp as he hits that sweet spot deep inside me.
“Good. Come all over my cock while he can do nothing but watch it happen.”
I didn’t know it was possible to orgasm so soon after getting off, but Martin just proved that wrong.
So fucking wrong.
* * *
I turn over in bed as Martin gets up and I rub my eyes. “What are you doing?” I ask, pushing myself to sit up.
“I’m being summoned to Casa De Gray,” he grumbles, not sounding happy about it at all.
He tries to avoid going home by staying with me. It gives him a reprieve from his father and I’m happy to give that to him.
No one else seems to be able to help his circumstance, but I’m glad I can provide some solace.
“Why?”
“Who knows really?” He shrugs while I turn on the light and watch him put on his nice black silk dress shirt, still naked on his bottom half.
I do have a question that I’ve had rolling around in my head for days and I’ve wanted to ask, but I didn’t have the guts to do it.
Now, I do.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
He nods. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I ask, the question sounding more stupid than I originally thought it would. It’s just a curiosity. I thought he was dating Casey, but then he proved that was false when he rebuked the title she gave him.
“No,” he admits before grabbing his boxers, slipping them on.
“You never found anyone you’d be interested in that way or…” I trail off to let him fill in the blank and he smirks.
“There’s only one woman who I’d ever consider giving that title to and, until very recently, she acted like she wanted to slap me every time I opened my mouth.”
My heart speeds up as he leans over the bed and gives me a sweet kiss, one that runs down to my toes.
Damn him.
Me.
He’s talking about me.
That’s probably the sweetest thing I could get out of him and the idea of being his girlfriend isn’t off-putting at all. If what we have been doing together has been any indicator, I think we would be good together.
I could give him the ability for him to get out of that toxic house. He could move in here and he wouldn’t ever have to go back to that awful place. We could be happy, just the two of us.
It sounds like a fantasy and fantasies rarely work out the way people want them to.
He gives me another kiss before pulling away. “You can go back to sleep. I might be gone for a while.”
I give him a smile. “Okay. Just don’t scare me when you come back, okay?”
I’m way easier to spook in my sleep. The slightest move will make me jump out of my skin and Martin doesn’t move a lot in his sleep.
“You got it, baby.”
Baby.
He called me baby.
Don’t you dare turn into a wet blanket now. It’s a term of endearment, not a proclamation of love.
I lay down in my oversized t-shirt and wrap myself in the blanket before turning to face the wall. I will worry about him the entire time I’m laying here, but the sooner he gets back, the sooner I’ll be able to relax. I know his father might hurt him while he’s gone and there won’t be anything I can do about it.
Yeah. He just needs to hurry up and get back here as soon as possible.
* * *
I wake to a pounding in my head and I clench my eyes, wondering why the hell my head hurts, but then as consciousness comes back to my mind, I realize that my head isn’t pounding. No, it’s something far worse than that.
I’m no longer in my bed, surrounded by blankets. No, no, no. I’m stuck in the trunk of someone’s car. My wrists and ankles are bound and a piece of duct tape is over my mouth. I thrash my body around, kicking and punching whatever I can reach.
This can’t be happening. I’m not a heavy sleeper. How the hell could I sleep through being kidnapped and thrown in someone’s trunk?
I scream through the duct tape, hoping someone hears me, but before I can find the damn trunk release, the vehicle starts to slow down.
The one time I slept in that bed without Martin next to me, I just had to be snatched. Just my fucking luck.
Well, whoever took me is going to get a rude awakening when I throat punch them the second this trunk opens up. It’s not going to be all fun and games then, will it?
The car comes to a full stop, the engine turns off, and I hear the distinct sound of the door open and close. I try to control the sound of my breathing as I get ready.
The second the trunk pops open and a figure comes into view, I pull my legs back and kick them with all the force I have. The kidnapper falls back as I move to crawl out of the trunk to see that my so-called attacker is none other than Nigel fucking O’Reilly.
Is this man never going to get the fucking hint?
Then the color drains from my face.
Nigel. Fucking. Found. Me.
How did he figure out where I was hiding?
I swear, if Oliver told him where I was, I’ll kill that beast myself. I won’t even need a weapon. I’ll claw his eyes out and make him eat them before moving onto his dick and balls.
I manage to get out of the trunk as Nigel sits up on the driveway.
“I guess I deserved that,” he mutters.
You think! is what I would say if I wasn’t fighting the duct tape over my mouth. Instead, I scream the best that I can through the duct tape.
“Calm down, baby. Stop screaming.”
He moves over to me and I swipe my arms at him, ready to deliver a few punches of my own. Was Martin beating his ass two days ago not enough for him? Does he need me to finish the job?
Instead of hitting him, he grabs my bound arms and throws me over his shoulder as I fight and scream, hoping and praying someone hears and helps me.
Martin isn’t here to save me. Nigel grabbed me when Martin was called away by his abusive father. He must’ve waited until he saw an opportunity to strike.
Martin is going to freak out when he sees I’m not there.
The front door opens as I continue to scream.
“What the hell, Nigel!” someone yells.
“Who is that?”
“What are you doing?”
“You can’t just kidnap someone. Are you insane?” That was definitely Ronan. They’re not doing anything though. They aren’t stopping him.
So much for all-powerful vigilantes.
“Calm down. It’s just Beth. She’s fine.”
I scream again into the duct tape as he turns around and I look up. All of them are watching in shock, but in a flash, Oliver jumps up from the couch, pulls the gun out of his pants, and points it at the back of Nigel’s head. He cocks the gun and the breath catches in my throat. Tears run rampant down my face as the gravity of the situation dawns on me.
I’ll never escape him.
I’m stuck being his proverbial punching bag.
At least I was given a reprieve in the form of Martin Gray for a little while. He showed me how a man should treat me, something Nigel never will.
“Put her down, man, or I’ll pull the trigger,” Oliver warns as he looks in my eyes, but I can’t decipher why he is looking at me like that. There’s no emotion there. That or he has it well hidden for a reason.
Nigel freezes and stays completely still.
“You know I’ll do it. Put her down and get the fuck away from her. Now.”
He hesitates, but Nigel slowly leans down and sets me on my feet. I fall to my hands and knees as Oliver moves to me, shoving his gun back in its spot. He lifts me up in his arms and carries me over to the couch. Oisin moves out of the way and drags Charlie with him as Oliver puts me down on the cushion. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a pocket knife and uses it to cut through the duct tape on my wrists and ankles. I hurry to pry the duct tape off my mouth, gasping from my panic. I cry from the pain of tiny hairs and a layer of skin coming off with the tape.
“Are you okay?” Oliver asks and I slowly nod. “Where’s Martin?” he presses.
“Jesus fucking Christ. I didn’t hurt him. He wasn’t even there,” Nigel spouts off and I scowl at him. Like that makes this any better.
“He was called away by his father. That’s the only reason I was alone. I woke up in the trunk.” My voice breaks as I rub my arms. Now that the adrenaline is gone, I feel so fucking cold.
Oliver’s entire expression darkens as he jumps to his feet. “You put her…in the fucking trunk?!” Oliver charges at Nigel and slams his body into a wall, the impact making a loud thud, as he hits Nigel over and over again. “Do you have any idea how many people suffocate inside the trunk!”
“She’s fine. Chillax.”
“Ollie, stop!” Ronan yells as he pulls back Oliver’s arm, gaining a modicum of his attention. “We will deal with him later. Right now, we have to make sure she’s okay.”
My arms shake as I look down at them, noticing the rash created by the duct tape. I peel it back, hissing as I do, trying like hell not to cause more damage than was already done. Like, what self-respecting kidnapper uses duct tape? Go for ropes next time, asshole.
“Don’t pull it off,” Ronan mutters as he walks off. “You’re going to hurt yourself. We have some Goo-Gone in the kitchen. Come on.”
I nod as Ronan escorts me to the kitchen and I go willingly.
* * *
Ronan gets me set up in the spare room after all the duct tape has been dealt with and I just sit on the bed, my knees pulled up to my chest, waiting for something–anything really.
I don't know what they are going to do about what Nigel did. Technically, he didn’t break the rules. He did what he did in Hempstead, not Grove Hill, and even then, nothing he did was against the rules. He didn’t hurt me. I’m still breathing, too. So, what can they really do?
Not even the Bastards can help me.
Tears run down my face as my bottom lip trembles. I was fine. I was doing great back in Hempstead.
I.
Was.
Happy.
Nothing good ever lasts in my life. Not Shawn, my friends, my freedom, or even the tranquility I found with Martin.
There’s a soft knock on the door as I look down at the marks on my wrists. There’s still an irritation from the tape, but it’s not as bad as it would’ve been if Ronan hadn’t helped me get it off. My face is worse.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice cracking.
The door opens and Oliver steps inside, scratching the back of his neck. “I called my cousin. I didn’t tell him what happened, but I told him that you’re here and for him to pick you up when he’s done,” he explains while holding up his phone. “What you want to tell him is up to you.”
I slowly nod. “How did Nigel find me? I covered my tracks. Hell, how the fuck did you find me?”
He smirks, but there’s no positivity in his expression. Actually, he looks rather glum. “The video you sent. I recognized the room from the pictures in your house in Grove Hill. As far as what he’s willing to give, you had a tail back from the warehouse. He followed you straight to your house and just waited.”
My chest aches from the realization. “He was just waiting for Martin to leave,” I assess, feeling even more hopeless.
“Yeah. He was staking out your house all weekend. We figured he just needed time and was processing. We had no idea what he was doing.”
Fresh tears fall down my face as I nod. “Did he treat Casey like this or am I just special ?”
The silence rings through the room and for a moment, I thought he might’ve left, but then he speaks, “He’s never been like this toward anyone except you. There’s toxic, then there’s you and Nigel together. It’s ugly and I fear it’s only going to get worse. You’ve woken something up in him that I had no idea existed until you ran outside that night.”
“Do you think I asked for this?” I roll my eyes. “He pursued me, not the other way around. I never wanted to be with him outside of sex and that was just one fucking time.”
“I’m not saying that at all. What I’m saying is that you need to stay as far away from him as you can.”
A loud sob falls from my lips as I cry, “I tried . I left! I was fucking careful so he wouldn’t find me. How was I supposed to know he would follow me? I kept my phone turned off most of the time. I left my mom’s car when I could’ve taken it. I did everything right, except going to that fight with Martin. I didn’t even know that’s where we were going until a few minutes before we got there.” I slowly shake my head to myself. “There’s no way Martin could’ve known he would do this. If he had any inkling that this would happen, he wouldn’t have left me there by myself.”
Oliver nods, his jaw set in a thin line. “No, he wouldn’t have. We’re at a loss here. We don’t know what to do about him. We can’t kill him. We’ve had zero confirmation of him breaking any rules in Grove Hill. I can’t exactly keep him on a leash, but Ronan is going to watch him closely.”
“And, what’s to stop him from coming for me when Ronan and Judy need some alone time or when Ronan goes to sleep? Nothing.”
He looks rather pissed off at the point I’ve made.
I shake my head. “It’s fine. No one can truly protect me from him. I just need to accept that as my reality. I have a crazy ex intent on holding me hostage like a goddamn trophy.” I should be used to this, but I got used to my freedom and now it’s being ripped away from me.
Gone are the fantasies of a nice and peaceful life with Martin in my childhood home. It’s not possible with Nigel waiting to snatch me.
Oliver takes a seat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on my knee. His touch drags my gaze up to his, determination filling his normally emotionless eyes. “I swear to you, I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from him. If he raises a hand to you, hurts you in any way, you tell me and I’ll deal with him–consequences be damned.”
My eyes narrow. “Why do you even care? You made it clear you didn’t give a rat’s ass before.”
His fingers tighten on my leg as his eyes narrow. “I never said I didn’t care. You assumed I didn’t because you heard the tail end of a conversation you weren’t involved in. Asking for context and waiting for an answer before badgering and throwing accusations around would be a good place to start in the future.”
It didn’t feel like context was really needed. I heard the guys yelling about how Oliver could do this–i.e. screwing me–to Nigel and then when I got downstairs, I heard Oliver say I was just easy.
Fucking easy.
My face feels cold just from reliving that horrible moment. It wasn’t necessarily the worst moment of my life, but it’s in the top ten for sure.
I look at him, waiting for him to continue. If he wants to explain himself, he has the floor. It’s not like I have anything better to do. I’m confined to a room where Nigel can’t get to me without the others knowing and they swore they would keep him away from me.
I don’t trust that as much as I wish I did.
Having Oliver here is the only real deterrent for Nigel. After all, he pointed a gun at Nigel earlier for kidnapping me.
“Well? Let’s hear it. What could your explanation possibly be for saying I’m an easy slut?”
His eyes narrow. “I never called you a slut, except when you wanted me to.” That’s a deflection if I’ve ever heard one. “What I said was She makes things easy which none of you do. I don’t have to deal with being badgered for my motives. She makes things easy. She is easy. ”
My heart lodges in my throat. What is the appropriate response to hearing that?
I’m not so sure I believe that was what he said considering he turned around as soon as I confronted him and told everyone that I’d had sex with Martin.
Maybe he did say that. Maybe he didn’t.
Maybe I’ve become so untrusting of people in this house that I don’t know what is real and what isn’t, but one thing I know is that Oliver is always there to protect me when he can. The scene earlier in the living room was evident enough of that.
“When I found you after what he did to you that night,” he starts, his grip loosening on my knee. “I told him that if he ever did it again, I’d put him down myself.” My eyes meet his, unsure of why he’s telling me this. “If I’m not above the rules, neither is he.”
“Why tell me that now?” I ask, confused.
“Because that’s your leverage against him. He won’t do anything to you that you don’t want him to do if he wants to keep breathing. If he touches you in any way you don’t like, all you have to do is tell me and he won’t be a problem any longer. The others are on the same page as me with this. However, I also told him if he ever made you cry again, I’d take you from him, so there’s that.”
Oliver already did that though. He did that while Nigel was off screwing whoever he was with. In that short amount of time, Oliver made me fall for him. He made a spot for himself in the beating muscle in my chest, carving his name against the tissue.
Martin did, too, and in a different way. The spot takes up the same amount of space as Oliver’s, but just as their personalities differ, so does the part of my soul that latched onto them.
The part that has Nigel’s name is a fraction of the space Martin or Oliver takes up. It’s like an ink bleed compared to the canvas that belongs to his best friend. The shitty part is that once someone’s name is there, it can’t be erased.
Shawn still has his spot marked.
However, I don’t tell him any of that. I keep my mouth closed. I have a lot to think about before Martin gets here. I have to figure out my next move.
* * *
My fingers knot in the blanket under my body as my eyes start to feel heavy, but then the bedroom door opens. At first, my guard is down because I figure either Oliver has come back to check on me or Martin is here, but then my eyes flutter open as Nigel walks in.
Immediately, I’m awake and scrambling for the edge of the bed, ready to bolt again.
He’s not supposed to be in here.
“Hey, hey.” His voice is soft and disarming as he holds up his hands, a look of grief on his face. “I’m not going to hurt you, baby.” His head drops, his expression covered in shame and regret.
I clutch the blanket around my body, my back stuck against the wall. I don’t say anything. I know I could scream and someone in the next room would come running to remove him, but for some reason, I don’t.
I don’t even know why I can’t open my mouth, not even to say a word.
“You don’t have any idea how much it kills me that you look at me like you think I’m going to hurt you,” he says as his jaw clenches and releases over and over. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to talk, work through what happened. I fucking love you, Beth, so much it makes me feel like I’m losing my mind sometimes.” He drops to his knees next to the bed, laying his cheek against the sheet. “The past week has been absolute hell. First, I didn’t know where you were and was worried Gray was hurting you, that he had you some place, tormenting you. I wanted to kill him because I didn’t know if you were safe, if you were happy, if you were even fucking alive. Then, I saw you with him and…I just wanted to hold you, tell you how sorry I was for upsetting you.”
He seems genuinely remorseful, but how real could it be? He’s not apologizing for the acts of violence themselves, but the effect they had on me.
Also, his words don’t make sense. I sent him the same video I sent to Oliver. The revenge sex tape with Martin. One would clearly see that I was doing that of my own accord.
Did he not watch it?
Maybe he saw enough to see it was me and Martin and decided not to watch more.
“Please, forgive me, baby,” he begs, not moving an inch from his spot.
I don’t move either. I barely fucking breathe.
* * *
I stand on the porch, the sun peaking over the horizon, as Martin’s sleek, expensive car pulls up outside of the house. My heart speeds up as he gets out of the car.
“What are you doing over here?” he asks as he runs through the front yard, right over to me. My bottom lip trembles as he gets close. He takes me in his arms and I savor the feel of him, his body, his touch, his heart beating in sync with my own. The smell of his luxury cologne.
I used to clump all of the elite together in a bin labeled as “human garbage”, but Martin took one space out of that. He’s the opposite of my perspective of the rest of them. He’s been my friend, my confidante, my lover, my salvation, my revenge. He’s been everything good and it feels like it’s been that way longer than just a week. Every moment with him expands past our time spent together.
God, this isn’t fair.
“I’m okay,” I whisper as he slowly pulls back.
His eyes narrow, confusion present. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
I don’t want to say it. I really don’t. I just want to stay in this moment with him.
He pushes the hair out of my face, showing the dried tears I’ve been crying since I came to a decision.
“Talk to me, baby. Tell me. What did he do?”
I take a breath before saying, “He didn’t hurt me.” That would be the truth if it wasn’t for the slight rash over my mouth that he hasn’t spoken of.
I can’t avoid this though. I did everything. I ran away with Martin’s help and Nigel still tracked me down. This is my only option left.
“I’m staying,” I admit, the words feeling so fucking wrong.
He doesn’t say anything, but I notice the disappointment on his face. I share the sentiment.
“He found me at the house. He showed up when you left and brought me here. He was just waiting for you to leave. Don’t you get it? He’s never going to let me go. No matter how far I run or how well I cover my tracks, he’s just going to find me. I can’t live my life always looking over my shoulder wondering if that’s the day when I’m going to have to make a run for it again. It was good while it lasted though.” He runs his knuckles over my cheek like he always does and I lean into his touch.
“I can get you to a safe house. We can–”
“No, Martin.” My voice is soft as I give him a fake smile full of the sadness in my heart. “This is where things are at. I have to stay, but this time, I have a failsafe. If he hurts me again…well, let’s just say no one will ever see him again and then, I’ll be free. We all know abusive partners don’t just stop at once. They can’t help themselves and, if it means I will be free of him permanently, so be it. He can’t hurt me more than he already has.”
Martin’s eyes narrow and I know deep down, this is killing him as much as it is me. “Are you sure about this?”
“No,” I admit. “But, the alternative is far worse. I wish it wasn’t though. I wish I could just go back to the house …with you.” His oceanic eyes flash back to mine, listening closely. “I’ve never been as happy as I have been this past week with you, Martin. You made me feel free, feel truly seen for the first time in my life. I’ll always be grateful for that. I got a glimpse into how my life could’ve been if I hadn’t left Hempstead and remembered that night with you. It wasn’t something grandiose or ostentatious, but it was beautiful all the same.”
He presses his forehead to mine, letting out a long breath. “You can’t say shit like that when you’re dumping me, little rabbit.”
I snicker from his words. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re fucking perfection, a goddess in your own right. If you’re staying here with that piece of flaming human trash, give him hell like only you can. Be the petty queen I know you are.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead and I feel so much love and understanding it’s drowning me.
“I will. I swear.”