Chapter 24
Graham
The grey that consumed my entire life before her doesn’t come alone this time. It comes with a blackness that coats my ankles, dragging me down under the asphalt, and a searing red that burns my skin with every single touch.
Valeria. That fucking psychotic bitch somehow escaped the psych ward and torched the mansion. With Maya inside.
Two of my own guards chose to walk straight into the flames and die in pursuit of her rather than face what I would do to them if she burns. They chose the fire over my wrath.
I can’t breathe. I swerve violently, narrowly missing a car that honks at me, the world blurring past my windows into streaks of blood and smoke. My throat is seizing up, and a paralyzing terror hits me that my state right now is mirroring hers—trapped in a blinding fire.
I haven’t told her I love her. She might die not knowing that she brought me closer to love than any human being on this earth ever could.
The moment I slide the car to a screeching halt in the driveway and see the size of the inferno, my knees completely give out. I drop into the gravel.
I can’t do this. I can’t be weak. I need to be strong. I need to tear this house apart piece by piece until I find her. Because if she isn’t here anymore, if she’s gone, I am going to wither away into dust. I will cease to exist.
I force myself up, tripping twice as I sprint toward the fire. “Maya!” I scream. “Maya!”
I roar her name even louder, lunging straight for the burning foyer, but three of my guards tackle me to the ground. I fight against them until one of them yells, “Sir! I think we found her!”
“Is she okay? Is she breathing?” I choke out, feeling a strange wetness streaming down my cheeks.
The guards keep their heads down, their eyes completely averted to the right. There, on the grass, is what appears to be a charred, grey skeleton.
The fire has been raging for thirty minutes.
“It… it may not be her, sir,” one of the men stammers. “The firefighters are on the way. It’s just that the estate is so secluded—”
An animalistic scream tears out of my chest. I drop to my hands and knees, crawling across the grass toward the body.
I can’t recognize a single feature. I can’t see her face.
The only thing left untouched by the heat is a patch of singed brown hair clinging to the scalp.
That is the only thing I can find. Nearby, the gardener is lying unconscious on the ground with a horrific burn on his right leg, but he won’t wake up.
He won’t wake up so I can ask him if he saw my Maya run.
“Ahhhh!” I scream louder.
The guards look down at the dirt, terrified to face me. One of them kneels next to me.
“Sir… it could be Sasha. It could be one of the house staff.”
“But she has brown hair!” I stutter.
The guard gulps. “A lot of the staff have brown hair, sir.”
I can’t hear him over the roaring in my ears. The world is ending. I crawl closer, reaching out a hand to pull her into my chest, but the moment my fingers touch her arm, a part of the charred bone crumbles and breaks away.
I am dying. My soul is ripping out of my chest. Is this what a broken heart feels like?
“No, no, no,” I sob as I gently caress the hair, burying my face against the charred ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, baby. I didn’t mean to leave you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Another guard desperately tries to drag me away from the remains. I pull the Glock from my waistband and fire a bullet into his leg. He drops with a scream, and from that moment onward, not a single soul dares to come near me.
I cradle what’s left of the body in my arms, crying my fucking eyes out.
“I love you, Maya,” I weep against the bone. “I love you so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m going to find Valeria and skin her alive.”
I reach into my pocket, pulling out the diamond ring I’ve been carrying for days. “Look… I got this ring for you. You were going to be my wife, Maya. You are going to be my wife.”
Maybe I’ll propose to her right here, and then I’ll put the gun to my own temple and pull the trigger. That way, we can cross over into the dark together. She won’t be alone.
I slide the platinum band onto the only finger that isn’t completely curled up from the heat.
“I love you, too.”
The whisper is barely audible. My mind is playing tricks on me. My love is answering me even in death. She is comforting me from the grave.
“Graham… please turn around.”
I slowly let go of the brittle frame in my arms, my head snapping back toward the tree line.
Maya is standing there.
She is alive. Seemingly safe, her body completely covered in black soot and smears of blood. She’s limping on one ankle, leaning against a tree for support.
The ground beneath me isn’t solid anymore.
Maya. My Maya.
I try to stand, but my legs completely refuse to work. I collapse face-first into the dirt—I crawl. I claw my fingers into the grass, dragging myself across the lawn toward her like a starved beast.
The firefighters and paramedics are pouring onto the estate now, but all I can focus on is her.
My Maya, who looks alive. My Maya, who just told me she loved me.
I don’t remember thanking God a single day in my miserable life, but today, I am on my knees, sobbing into the dirt.
Thank you, God, for keeping her. Thank you, God, for not taking her from me.
She limps toward me, and the moment we are within reach, we both collapse onto the grass. I latch onto her like a drowning man. We sob into each other’s skin.
“I love you, I love you so much, do you hear me?” I whisper. I don’t even have the energy to scream it. I thought I lost her.
“I love you too,” she sobs against my neck, lifting her face to kiss me on the lips. Our mouths meet, and it tastes like bitter soot, ash, and blood. But to me, it is the absolute sweetest taste on earth. It’s the taste of her soul still being here. The taste of life.
“You’re marrying me,” I command. “I don’t give a fuck. You’re marrying me.”
A giggle slips past her busted lips, her eyes shiny with tears as she caresses my face. “Okay,” she breathes. “Okay, Graham.”
“I promise to gut Valeria for you,” I hiss against her mouth. “I will skin her alive for touching what is mine.”
Maya immediately kisses me again, trying to soothe the beast.
“It… it wasn’t Valeria, Graham. It was a candle. It was an accident.”
My brows instantly furrow. Is my Maya lying to me? I can read her better than she can read herself. The scent of gasoline is thick in the air.
“Maya… why are you protecting her?” I ask. All I want to do is hunt Valeria down, drag her back here by her hair, and torch her alive so she can never, ever threaten to take my Maya away from me again.
“Because I forgave her,” Maya whispers, her eyes pleading with me. “And she forgave me. Please, Graham. Let it go. It’s over.”
Let it go? Every instinct I have screams at me to refuse.
But remembering the hell of holding that charred skeleton just minutes ago, I realize I am entirely powerless against her.
I would walk through hell if she asked me to.
After thinking she died, I will do anything for her.
I will make sure I never, ever fall short of protecting her again.
“Only if you wear my ring on your finger,” I growl.
“You need to get it off the corpse’s finger first,” she whispers.