Chapter 42
Rhys
On the drive home from the clinic, Trace keeps glancing at me. “Am I telling Mum what happened? Any of it?”
“No,” I say quickly.
“She’ll want to meet Fallon. Especially if this thing between you two is real.”
I scoff, “You had it easy with Shea. You grew up with her. Mum already loved her.”
Daylight has broken over the city, and without the darkness and shadows, everything feels too bright. The air feels thin from the recent snowfall, blanketing the landscape in white.
All of which adds to the steady, dark, and ugly rhythm pounding in my head.
That, and the nausea Cormac warned me about.
Trace drives us in his Mercedes, jaw locked, knuckles white on the steering wheel like he’s anxious to get home to his wife.
When we reach my building, he puts the car in park and turns to face me. “Do you want me to come up with you? Talk to her for you? Back you up? Tie her up?”
I laugh for the first time in hours. “I wish it were that simple.”
I shake the painkillers in my pocket. I took one an hour ago, and the faint buzz still blurs the edges of my sight.
“No.” My voice comes out rough. “This is between her and me.”
Trace watches me another moment, then nods. “All right, brother. Just be gentle. We like strong women, but we can’t always assume they’re made of steel. They shatter sometimes, and that’s okay.”
Be gentle. Right. Like I know how.
“Thanks.” I turn to give him a hug and then leave the car.
I pass through the lobby with my head down. The elevator ride is endless. My ribs throb with each breath. The corridor carpet pattern blurs and seems to be moving, lifting up and down.
Dizziness. Check.
I hold my breath until I’m in front of Fallon’s door, gently knocking.
“Fallon,” I say, leaning my forehead against the cool metal. “It’s me, love. Please…let me in.”
Silence shatters me.
I knock again, softer. “Please.”
Nothing.
A cold dread drops my stomach. I shove off the door, pushing back the panic. Maybe she’s in the garden. Even though it’s early, freezing, and snowy.
The snow! She’ll want to cover the plants.
I take the stairs this time, two at a clip. But the garden is annoyingly empty. Fallon’s beds look brittle and bare, their earth hard and cold. She’s not here.
Good. At least she’s not outside freezing.
I consider climbing the fence to replace her tarp, but fear I’ll fall and crack my skull open.
I keep moving, chasing shadows of her across our neighborhood to all the places she talks about.
Every place I’ve ever seen her smile. The cupcake shop on the corner.
No Fallon. The tea shop where she misunderstood me.
No Fallon. The ornament shop where she pressed her nose to the glass like a child last week.
Not there either. Even the security guard at the school hasn’t seen her.
No Fallon. Anywhere.
By the time I make it back to our building, I’m staggering from the meds. Each step is a challenge to my balance. On our floor, I knock on her door again, harder this time.
“Please,” I say, voice breaking and loud. “Let me explain, love, please.”
Silence.
I press my fist to the door and stand there until I’m crying, and my legs threaten to buckle.
“I’ll do anything. Fallon, I can’t think straight. I’m sick and fucking out of my mind. Please…”
Nothing.
Then I give up. I hate myself for it, but I walk away. I’m ready to fucking drop.
My keys rattle as I get my door open, and I toss them, not caring where they land.
Inside, my place is dark from the blackout curtains. They’re a cruel metaphor for my life stripped of Fallon’s light.
From my pocket, I stare at the pills. “This is strong crap.”
For a moment, I consider taking them all to end this pain. Pain in my head. Pain in my heart.
Fuck, I won’t do that to my family. Or Fallon. I won’t ruin her with selfish guilt. I don’t want to take this pain with me to the other side. I can’t fix anything from there. I take just one more pill and let it drag me down.
If I’m breathing, I have a chance to make Fallon forgive me.
Even if it takes every day for the rest of my life.
When I open my eyes again, the world is night-black, just not darkened by expensive shades. My head is cotton, my mouth dry.
Something shifts in the shadows. Someone is standing over me.
I move on instinct, gun in hand, from under my pillow before I can think. “Don’t move, fucker.”
The shape freezes. Then a sliver of light hits red hair.
Fallon.
“Love! You scared me.” I drop the weapon to the floor.
It clangs on the hardwood, and I consider kicking it under the bed. I’m terrified she’ll pick it up and shoot me. Just like I taught her.
“You betrayed me to your family.” The calm control in her voice scares the hell out of me.
“I know.” My throat burns. “Let me explain, love.”
“Do you really love me?” she asks, her tone cutting and eerily flat. “Your cousin thinks you’re just keeping me quiet.”
“I was,” I admit. “At first.”
Something flickers in her expression. I push on, softer, forcing her to meet my eyes. “But Fallon, you know what I do. I had to protect myself. You saw something awful. I had to know how you were going to react to that. That would challenge anyone’s sanity.”
“Are you even really my boyfriend?”
“No,” I answer, shaking. “I found your journal.”
“You read my journal?” she responds with fire.
“Good, I need that fire. I want it all on the surface, no more going inward.” I reach out and bring her close to me. “I read it because I had to know how I could forget asking you to be mine. Turns out, I didn’t forget. You heard me wrong that day at the tea shop.”
“I did?”
“Aye.”
“None of this was real…” She swallows.
“Not for the two years we didn’t speak,” I breathe. “But Fallon, I was going along with it, long before you saw me kill that man for Ares. I never corrected you. I probably wanted it to be as true as you did. But I didn’t want to put you in danger.”
Somewhere inside, I was living the fantasy as well. That a sweet, quirky girl could be mine.
I sink to my knees in front of her, pain flaring up my spine.
My voice cracks as it pours out of me. “I’m sorry.
I’m so bloody sorry for not being honest with you.
I should’ve been upfront with you sooner about what I knew, that I checked you out.
I didn’t want to risk losing you. Please, forgive me. Please.”
Her eyes flutter as tears streak down her cheeks.
“Do you really love me?” she whispers again, sounding desperate.
“Aye,” I say, meeting her eyes. “I love you. Really, truly, honestly. With all my heart.”
“Even if I never take another pill?”
“I don’t want you to swallow another anti-psychotic pill ever. I swear. I will deal with every spiral. Every episode. Fallon. I love you. I love the person you are without all that shite. With your bloody rolling whiteboard calendar, your glitter, your plants, everything.”
“Please…” she squeaks.
“What, love?” I reach for her.
“Don’t ever go behind my back again,” she says, sniffling.
“Never.”
Relief crashes through me so hard my chest aches. I stand and pull her into my arms, holding her like I’ll never let go. I kiss her, soft and desperate, and she kisses me back like she’s breathing again for the first time.
We both are.
I cup her damp cheeks, pressing my forehead to hers. “Why don’t you let me do this properly. Fallon, will you be my girlfriend? For real?”
Forever…
Griffin may get his demands met after all. Fallon looks like she’s turning that over, weighing it.
“Really real?” she says, her breath faltering.
“Aye, love. Real. As real as the love we make. As real as how I hold you and ache for you to come around my cock.”
Nodding, she buries her face in my chest. “Yes,” her voice breaks. “I’ll be your real girlfriend.”
I let out a shuddering sigh and kiss her hair.
Despite the pain in my head, I strip out of the clothes I fell asleep in. It takes me less than three seconds to shuck the shirt over my head and unbuckle my pants.
“Now that you’re my girlfriend, I’m going to fuck you like a whore.”
Fallon peels her nightgown over her head, and I drag her down on top of me. I wrap my arms around her and pull her legs so she is straddling me. I like that her body is solid and that she can handle me.
“Rhys,” she hisses, her hands working the sheets away so her wet center lines up with the tip of my cock.
With that little connection, my head falls back. “Fuck,” I mutter.
“We have to get you a swear jar.” She rocks, her soaked cunt rubbing against me.
“I’ll give you my credit card.” I’d promise anything at this moment.
I turn Fallon onto her back and push inside her, taking her like a madman. I’m not even using protection. I don’t care.
Fuck, she feels so good. Skin warm and wet, wrapped around my dick.
“Rhys,” she moans, “you’ve made me so happy.”
“I’m happy, too.” I slide in and out of her, alternating my pace.
I have to slow down, so I pull out and kiss down her stomach, her skin quivering.
“That tickles.”
“You won’t be laughing in a moment, love.” I run my tongue down her hip and over a mound of soft red curls above her tiny slit that I now call home.
“Yes, I love that,” she groans, pulling my hair.
“Christ, you’re perfect.” I move my tongue between her legs and focus to find the exact spot that turns her into a feral bunny.
Fallon’s nails dig into my scalp, coming close to my bruise, but I don’t care. I only wish she was wearing those candy-cane tights. I’m a sick bastard because I love peeling them down enough that they’re partially on. Like I’m licking or fucking some forbidden elf.
Fallon’s hands slam down on my shoulders. “Yes, right there, don’t stop.”
Her core clenches and drenches my tongue with a flavor I’m addicted to. Her hips arch, and she cries out. She shudders against my mouth in a violent wave, and I suck on her clit until Fallon turns wild, shaking, and her legs thrashing.
Moans that I’m not sure are human scrape from her throat.
I drag my wet mouth back up her body and then flip her over. “On your knees.”