Chapter 26 #2
“I’ll do a sweep of the perimeter,” Jagger adds, though his usual bravado is subdued. “Check for any signs of encampment, disturbed sand, and footprints.”
“I’ll review the security footage from the gate,” Damon says, turning from the window. “See if we missed anyone coming onto the property.”
They move with efficiency and purpose, filing out of my office with promises to return with updates if they find any evidence as to who did this.
Unfortunately, their competence doesn’t comfort me.
Nothing erases the knowledge that this man watched us make love, fuck, and violated the sanctity of me giving myself to Gunnar. And he is not pleased about it.
Alone with Gunnar, surrounded by the photographic evidence of our intimacy turned into ammunition against us, he holds me in silence.
His arms are banded around my waist, his chin resting on top of my head.
He strokes my hair, pressing kisses to my temple whenever my sobbing crests and breaks.
He lets me cry, giving me the opportunity to process this latest violation in whatever way I need to.
“He was here,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and broken as I break the silence. “He saw us. He saw… everything.”
“I know, baby girl,” Gunnar husks. “I know.”
“What if he comes back?” The question tears out of me, ragged and desperate. “What if he’s watching right now? What if he’s out there, in the dark, with his camera and his… his hatred?”
“We’ll find him,” Gunnar promises. “We’ll find him, and we’ll stop him. He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”
“But the note,” I press, my fingers clutching at his shirt. “He said… It reads like… Like I belong to him. Like I’m his… And I betrayed him.” The words taste like ash in my mouth. “What if he’s coming for me? What if he decides he has to punish me for being with you?”
Gunnar pulls back slightly, his hands cupping my face and forcing me to meet his eyes.
They’re dark, churning with a rage that matches my fear, but his touch is gentle.
“He won’t get to you,” he vows, each word deliberate and absolute.
“I will die before I let him lay a finger on you. You understand me? I will burn this world down.”
“But what if he doesn’t come for me?” The thought has been building quietly since we started this. “What if he comes for you? The note… it was angry at me, but it was threatening us. What if he thinks he has to eliminate you to get to me?”
Gunnar stares at me for a long moment, his expression shifting.
He makes a sound that’s a mixture of laughter and a growl, and he pulls me close again.
“Of course he’s jealous,” Gunnar ventures.
He tilts my chin, his thumb brushing over my lower lip as his eyes fall to the erotic spread on my desk.
“Look how well you take Daddy’s cock. Anyone with eyes could see how much you love it. ”
I blink at him, shocked by the crude words falling from his lips in this moment of vulnerability. “Gunnar—”
“I’m serious,” he says, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, a deliberate attempt to pull me from the abyss of fear. “He watched us, didn’t he? He saw you come apart for me. He saw how you beg for it, how you take every inch, how you scream my name when you—”
“Stop,” I interrupt as his hand slides down to grip my hip, his fingers digging in with possessive intent.
“He’s jealous because he knows you belong to me.
That your body knows it. Your heart knows it.
He can see it every time I touch you, that you’re mine in ways he can never replicate.
He’s watching something real and true, and it drives him mad because he’ll never have it. He’ll never have you.”
His words wrap around me, shielding me from the darkness. He’s reframing the violation as evidence of our connection, our bond.
“He called me a whore,” I sniffle, realizing how trivial this small thing is in the grand scheme of things.
Gunnar’s expression darkens, the humor fading into a fierce and protective stare. “He’s wrong. You’re not a whore, Devyn. You’re mine. And what we do together… What he saw… that’s sacred. That’s ours. He doesn’t get to define it. He doesn’t get to touch it.”
He kisses me, hard and claiming, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with a desperation that speaks of his own fear and rage at this violation. When he pulls back, we’re both breathless and clinging to each other.
“We’ll get through this,” he promises, resting his forehead on mine. “Together. I won’t let him take anything else from you. Not your peace, your safety, or what we are.”
“And what are we?” I whisper timidly.
The question hangs between us as I wait what feels like an eternity for Gunnar to answer. His thumb brushes away a tear trickling down my cheek, and his eyes search mine with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. “Everything,” he exhales. “We are everything.”
I swallow hard as his eyes hold my stare, and his voice drops into a whisper when he roughs out, “I spent years convincing myself I didn’t need anyone.
Years coming home to empty rooms because silence was easier than disappointment.
Easier than letting someone close enough to leave.
I got good at being alone. And then you happened. ”
His hands cup my face, pulling it up toward his as he places the softest kiss against my lips.
“Now, every part of my day begins with wondering where you are. Whether you’ve eaten, if you’re smiling, and making sure you’re safe.
When you laugh, I swear I breathe easier.
When you’re beside me, everything inside me finally settles.
The only time my mind is actually quiet is when you’re in my arms.” His jaw flexes, and emotion burns behind my eyes, tears threatening to fall.
“You are the first person who’s ever made life feel like more than surviving.
The first person I’ve wanted to build my world around. ”
A tear slips free despite my best effort to hold it back as I stare at him, barely able to breathe. His lips dust across my cheeks.
“I don’t know how to be halfway with you.
You’re my peace, baby girl. My home. The only place I’ve ever belonged.
” His normally stormy blue eyes flood with vulnerability as he lightly shakes his head.
“So, when you ask me what we are…You’re the woman I didn’t realize I’ve been waiting my whole life for. ”
The air leaves my lungs in a shaky exhale, and before I can find the words to respond, he cups the back of my neck and kisses me.
This time, it isn’t with desperation or possession, but with certainty.
His lips move over mine as though he’s sealing every vow he’s just made.
It is slow and unhurried, patient enough to let me feel each heartbeat between us.
I melt into him, my hands finding his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my palms. My eyes burn as he slowly pulls away and rests his forehead on top of mine again.
I don’t say a word. I don’t have to.
Somewhere between his promises and this kiss, my heart stopped wondering if it belonged to him. It has simply accepted that it does.