Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ledger
The room hums with quiet, the kind of silence that only settles after something raw and electric. The sheets are tangled around us, Galeana’s hair spilling over the pillow in dark, messy waves against the white cotton. Her chest rises and falls in a rhythm I’ve memorized without meaning to. She’s warm against my side, grounding me in a way nothing else ever has.
I lean in, brushing a line of lazy kisses along her bare shoulder, my fingers ghosting over her skin as if I need to remind myself she’s really here. We’re here. And for now, it’s enough.
At least, it feels like enough—until she breaks the silence.
“I hate lying to them,” she murmurs, her voice soft but heavy with something unspoken, something I know she’s been holding on to.
I glance down at her, my brow furrowing. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, her gaze fixed on the ceiling like it holds the answers she can’t bring herself to say aloud.
“Umm, context would help here, darling,” I say, a little edge of humor in my voice because she just went from fuck me harder, Ledge to . . . well, whatever this is.
“My friends,” she says quietly, her voice breaking just a little on the word.
“Your friends?” I repeat, trying to catch up.
She nods, her throat bobbing as she swallows hard. “Aiden and Delilah. I’ve never lied to Aiden. And Del . . . well, she’s my Birchwood Bestie. However, we’re still getting to know each other, but lying like this just feels wrong. It’s like I’m hiding this massive part of my life from them, and they can tell something’s off. But I can’t tell them why.”
I shift onto my side, propping myself up on one elbow so I can see her better. Her eyes meet mine, wide and vulnerable in a way that twists something deep in my chest.
“You know why you can’t, darling,” I say gently, brushing her hair back from her face. My thumb skims her temple, a small, grounding touch. “It’s not only for our safety, but theirs too.”
She sighs, the sound filled with a mix of frustration and resignation. “I know. I do. But it doesn’t make it easier. I was on a video call with Aiden earlier, reassuring her that there’s no danger.”
I exhale, my fingers trailing down her arm. “We’re safe,” I remind her, though the word tastes bitter on my tongue.
Her gaze sharpens, and she turns toward me, her expression hard to read. “Are we?” she asks, her voice low. “Because I’m not sure anymore. There’s a reason we have guards stationed around this house and at the construction site of the new one. And I can’t explain that to Aiden. If I told her the truth, she’d freak out—and Del? Del lives here. She’d lose it.”
“I get it,” I say softly, my voice carrying the weight of more than just understanding. “God, do I get it.” And I do. I understand the tightrope she’s walking, the constant calculation of what to say, what to withhold.
“But we can’t risk it, Gale,” I continue, my tone firmer now. “Not with the syndicate watching. Not with the stakes this high.”
Her eyes flicker with something—anger, frustration, exhaustion—it’s hard to pinpoint exactly, but it hits me like a punch to the gut. “I know that. I do. But knowing doesn’t make it any less shitty, Ledge,” she says, her voice quiet but laced with an edge. “I feel like I’m losing a part of myself every time I look Aiden in the eye and pretend like everything’s fine.”
I don’t have an easy answer for her. Hell, I don’t have any answer. What am I supposed to say? That it’ll get easier? It won’t. That this will all magically go away? It sure as fuck won’t. So instead, I lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger there like it might soften the ache in her voice or at least remind her she’s not carrying this alone.
“We’ll get through this,” I murmur, the words as much for me as they are for her—a promise I’m determined to keep even if it kills me. “But listen, if at any point you want to leave, if it’s too much and you need to be in Denver with her or go to Seattle, I’ll make it happen. No hesitation. We won’t give two fucks about what happens here.”
She pulls back slightly, her brows knitting together, her lips parting in protest. “You should care,” she says, her voice firm.
“I do,” I reply, the words tumbling out rough, raw, and immediate. My hand slides to the back of her neck, pulling her closer until her face is inches from mine. “But I care more about you. Don’t you get that, Gale?” My voice drops lower, heavy with emotion. “You’re my everything now. I can’t—” My voice catches, and I have to take a breath before continuing. “I can’t fathom something happening to you.”
Before she can say anything, I crash my lips to hers, hard and unyielding. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a plea, a declaration, a goddamn vow. My hands tighten around her, pulling her impossibly closer, as if I can shield her from everything with just this moment. Her breath hitches against my mouth, her hands fisting in my hair, and for a second, the world falls away.
When I finally pull back, my forehead rests against hers, both of us breathing hard. Her eyes search mine, glassy and unsteady, and I know she feels it too—that magnetic pull, that terrifying certainty.
“I mean it,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, the words scraped raw from the deepest part of me. “Whatever it takes, Gale. Wherever we have to go. As long as you’re safe, nothing else matters to me.”
Her eyes soften, shimmering with something I’ve never dared to hope for. Then, in a move that’s so her—unexpected and utterly disarming—she tilts her head, her lips brushing against my jaw. “I love you,” she whispers, the words breaking something wide open in me.
Before I can respond, her hands slide down my back, pulling me closer as her hips press forward, aligning herself against me. My already-hard length meets her heat, and the simple motion sends a bolt of need through me so sharp I can barely think.
Her legs wrap around my waist, and I grip her thighs, steadying her as I push forward. The resistance is exquisite, her tight, slick heat giving way inch by inch until I’m buried completely inside her.
“Fuck,” I grit out, my head falling to her shoulder as I pause, the sensation of her surrounding me so intense it borders on overwhelming. Her nails dig into my back, and she gasps, her body arching against mine in a way that makes me lose whatever thread of control I thought I had.
“You feel . . .” I rasp, my lips finding the curve of her neck as I begin to move, slow and deliberate. “Like heaven, Gale. Like you were made for me.”
Her response is a breathless moan, her hips meeting mine as we fall into a rhythm that feels less like something we’re doing and more like something we’re becoming.
It’s not just sex. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted to say but didn’t know how. It’s love and possession and the desperate, aching need to prove to her that I’ll never let her go.
“Touch me, thrust harder, make me feel,” she orders, her voice thick with need and desperation, her words igniting something primal in me.
My grip on her hips tightens as her demand echoes through me, my pulse hammering in my ears. “You want to feel, baby?” I rasp, my voice rough and low, dripping with the promise of everything I’m about to give her. “Then feel this.”
I slide my hand between us, finding her swollen clit with practiced ease, and begin circling it with just the right pressure—firm and unrelenting. At the same time, I drive into her harder, my thrusts deep and punishing, each one staking a claim she already knows is hers.
Her nails rake down my back, her gasps turning into moans, her body arching beneath mine like she’s trying to take even more of me. And fuck if I don’t want to give it to her. All of it.
“You’re mine,” I growl, my fingers working her clit faster, my movements matching the rhythm of my thrusts. “Every gasp, every moan, every inch of you belongs to me.”
Her body clenches around me, her breath catching as her climax builds, and I feel the moment she surrenders to the pleasure ripping through her. It’s like watching her come undone and putting her back together all at once—beautiful, raw, and fucking perfect.
“Say it,” I demand, my voice rough as I slow just enough to draw out every second. “Say you’re mine, Gale.”
Her head tips back, her eyes locking onto mine, glazed with ecstasy. “I’m yours,” she breathes, her voice breaking, her nails digging into my shoulders. “I’ve always been yours.”
And just like that, I’m gone. Lost in her. In us. In this moment that feels like the only thing that’s ever mattered.