29. Normal is Overrated
NORMAL IS OVERRATED
Flynn
The police gave up on monitoring Lachlan’s house a few days ago, but I still drive into the garage before getting out.
The pressure in my head is manageable at the moment but my body jitters with the need to see Hazel. Except the second I walk into the front room and find her sitting on the couch, her legs pulled up to her chest, I stop moving.
She’s staring off into space, her normally peachy skin far too pale.
I whip around, zeroing in on where Lachlan’s sitting at the kitchen island. “What happened?”
Lach sighs and gets up from the stool. “Everything’s been dealt with. I need to organize the clean-up.” He stops by the archway to the hall and glances between Hazel and me. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
I glare after him, the urge to smash my fist into his face rising hard and fast. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I know Hazel didn’t leave me looking like she’d seen a ghost. I trusted Lachlan to keep her safe and while she may be physically unharmed, she’s not okay.
Something has happened to my Little Lilac.
I force myself to let Lachlan go and cross the limestone floor to the couch. “Hazel,” I say her name, trying to bring her back to me. She doesn’t meet my eyes though.
“Is Ana safe?”
“Yes. Everything went perfectly, so are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing.” A quiet, broken laugh. “Everything.”
Some emotion I don’t recognize flares inside my chest, burning and vicious. I crouch down and cup Hazel’s cheek, drawing her gaze to me. “Lilac, talk to me.”
Hazel bites her cheek and I want to level cities at the fear in her eyes.
It’s not the same flash of fear she gets when my hand is around her neck or when I catch her lying to me.
This fear runs deeper, tainted with sadness.
I don’t know how I can read Hazel so well when I can’t even understand my own emotions, but I can, and I know I’m going to hate what she says next.
“What are you going to do with the video from Ana?”
I run my thumb over her cheekbone. “You know what I’m going to do with it.” Claren will be found with the evidence of his crimes, just like the others, and the world will know what sort of monster he really is.
Hazel wraps her hand around my wrist, not pulling me away, just holding on. “What if we just gave it to the police?”
“Lilac…”
Her grip on my wrist tightens, her nails digging in. “You don’t have to kill him, Flynn.”
“The senator just sent two mercenaries out to murder Ana in broad daylight. Do you really think he doesn’t have contacts in the police?
” I would do anything for Hazel, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m letting Claren live, not now Hazel’s on his radar.
My number one priority is keeping her safe, even if she hates the steps I have to take in order to do that.
A tear slips down her face and catches on my thumb.
“Hey,” I say, wiping it away. “It’s okay.”
Hazel shakes her head and leans forward, resting her forehead on mine. “I can’t do this, Flynn.”
I slide my hand around the back of her neck. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of it.”
“No.” Hazel rips away from me and stands up. “I mean this.” She waves a hand between us. “I can’t stand by and watch you plot to kill someone. I need to go. I need to get away from you and this insane life.”
My spine straightens. “Hazel,” I say, shards of glass in my voice. “You’re not going anywhere.” I take a step towards her, but she backs away, pain twisting her face.
“This isn’t normal, Flynn.”
That feeling burns in my chest again and I move fast, backing her against the wall, my hand finding her throat like it’s designed to fit there.
I press my thumb under her chin and take her mouth, dragging at her lower lip with my teeth and biting down till she whimpers.
“Normal is overrated, Little Lilac,” I whisper. “I told you I wouldn’t let you run.”
“Flynn—” she starts, an apology glistening in her eyes.
“No,” I say, cutting her off. “You’re mine, remember.” I push up her shirt, splaying my hand over the faded remnants of the words I inked onto her skin. “You don’t get to leave.”
She doesn’t say anything, just presses her lips together, and rage fires inside of me. I yank her pants down and thrust two fingers inside her cunt. She doesn’t fight me, her head tipping back against the wall as she gasps at the intrusion.
I curl my fingers inside of her and roll my thumb over her clit, dragging her body to the top of a cliff before pulling away. She doesn’t get to come. Not now.
Her hands come to my shoulders, nails digging into my skin through my shirt. “Flynn,” she begs.
“Promise me you’ll stay,” I demand.
A tear tracks down her face, but she refuses to give me the words. My nostrils flare. I keep one hand around her neck as I tear myself free of my pants and drive into her.
She chokes, her throat spasming against my palm as she coughs from how deep I’ve buried myself.
It’s not enough. I want to go deeper, leave my mark so thoroughly on her that she can’t tell where she ends and I begin.
I want to lay my claim with ink beneath her skin so that she never again questions who she belongs to.
My hips smack hers as I fuck her, forcing pleasure from her with each brutal thrust until she shatters around me and I spill my seed so deep inside her she’ll never be rid of me.
I stay buried in her cunt, one hand secured around her neck. “I won’t let you run from me,” I warn, my voice dark as night.
Tears flow down Hazel’s face, her cheeks flushed. She twists her fingers through my hair and holds me to her, our lips a whisper apart. “I’m not running,” she says. “I’m going home. To my life without serial killers and secret societies.”
“Without me,” I growl.
Hazel cries, her breath hot against my chilled face. “I love you, Flynn, but I have to go.”
My heart stops beating. Pain, deep and violent, hits my gut. I want to throw Hazel over my shoulder and lock her away until she changes her mind, until she realizes that this, that we, are something worth fighting for.
The tiniest flicker of guilt grates at my mind. I’ve spent the last four years killing monsters. It’s not fair of me to ask her to love one. Except I’ve never really cared about fair.
I tighten my hold on her neck, her pulse fluttering under my fingers. “You don’t get to do this, Lilac.”
Flynny. Hope’s voice is sharp in my head and I loosen my grip. The tattoo I got for her rests between my thumb and forefinger, a skull and roses flush against Hazel’s neck. You have to let her go. If you love her, you have to let her go.
I stumble back, tucking myself away. My gaze staggers on Hazel’s tear tracked face. I don’t want to be the reason she cries.
“Go,” I growl. “If this is what you want, go.”
Hazel looks at me, her eyes glistening. “It’s not what I want.”
Maybe not, but it’s what she needs. I look away. “Go,” I say again. “Before I change my mind.”
Hazel’s clothes rustle, then she brushes past me and crosses the room to the front door. I don’t look at her until her back is turned then I watch as she opens the door I can’t follow her through and leaves.
The pressure in my head slams back into me and I want to scream.
Lachlan comes back into the room and walks up beside me. “Are you okay?”
I turn around and punch him in the face.