Chapter Thirty-Seven
XADEN
I didn’t go to her.
I can’t.
Admitting how I feel or even trying to is not something I am capable of. I’m not the guy who does feelings. Who will buy you fucking flowers and cook you dinner. I’m the guy you call when you’re angry and want to kill someone or hide a body.
After we left the warehouse, Ken was prepared to take us to the hospital but I told him to head home. None of them argued. I showered and tried to sleep but after laying there for two hours, I gave up and drove here.
I’m sitting on the sand, watching the waves roll in with the letter Alex gave me in my hand. One was for Cas and one was for me—neither of us have opened them. I have a feeling I know what’s inside. I refuse to open it because if it is what I think it is, then that means I’m in the Butcher’s debt.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and do something I haven’t done in years, I open my camera roll.
The first picture I saw has a lump the size of a fucking baseball forming in my throat. It’s the last picture we took together. All four of us, standing in front of the rink after we won against the Dolphins.
I brush my thumb over her face, the sight of her eyes alight with joy and the smile that could light up the world is like a fucking sledgehammer to my chest. Neave and Miles both have their arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders as I stand behind her.
Both the guys are grinning like idiots. They loved to get me riled up and flirt with my sister just to piss me off.
That day I remember it not bothering me because I realized if there was ever anyone in the world that would be good enough and deserving of Emery’s love, it was one of them.
They would have shown her a different path, helped guide her away from the Cosa Nostra and put her and her happiness above anything else.
“It should have been me,” I choke out. Guilt crushes me from the inside, I was supposed to be in that car.
It was meant to be me. I’m living a life that was never meant to be mine.
It was supposed to be theirs. I can’t even look at Maddy without feeling like a worthless piece of shit.
She knows her brother's death is my fault but won’t say it.
“I’m sorry…” I feel the backs of my eyes burning and scrunch them closed until the feeling abates.
When I open them again, I lock my phone, unable to stare at the picture any longer.
I can’t. I push to my feet and strip until I’m just in my boxers.
I stalk toward the water without feeling the bite of the cool air, I need the shock to my system the cold water will give me.
I grit my teeth when the water laps at my ankles but don’t stop. I keep going until I’m fully submerged. I stay under the water as long as I can before my lungs begin to burn, then I break the surface and stare out at the ocean’s wide expanse and marvel at how vast it is.
When the hairs on the back of my neck rise, I spin around, prepared to fight, thinking it’s some motherfucker trying to get the jump on me while I’m alone, but the sight on the shoreline has me freezing on the spot.
Her blonde hair falls around her like a curtain, her eyes locked onto mine, and the look on her face is equal parts confusion and devastation.
When she begins making her way into the water, it’s only then that I notice she’s only in her bra and panties.
The sight alone has my cock leaping to attention, but when I take in the sight of her stomach, all the fear inside me rushes to the surface.
There is no more running from it.
I can’t deny it any longer.
I’ve been trying to hide from the truth but I’ve run out of places to hide now.
That’s my kid.
She stops ten feet away from me. We just stand here looking at each other. So many things are unsaid between us, yet words won’t fix what I broke.
We aren’t compatible. She’s soft, silk and savage when she needs to be. I’m tortured, broken and hungry for the misery of others. We’re toxic. Damaged.
“Tink—”
“I don’t want to talk,” she says in a fierce tone, cutting me off.
I raise a single brow and take a step toward her. “What are you here for then?”
She matches my move and creeps closer. “You.”
One word.
So simple, yet it has so many different meanings.
“Let me say goodbye the only way I know how.” She moves closer, my breathing turning chaotic.
“Let me show you without words.” She’s right in front of me now.
She places one hand flat against my chest and an involuntary shiver rolls through me.
“I need you to let me, let you go.” Her plea knocks the air out of me.
I snap my arms out, one encircles her waist and the other grips the back of her neck.
The feeling of her flush against me is intoxicating.
I dip my head so my lips ghost over hers. “I don’t know how to do that,” I admit. She doesn’t use words, she seals her lips to mine and then every thought, feeling and excuse flees until all I can think about is her.
She consumes me in a way nothing ever has. Killing is exhilarating and numbs me but this, this right fucking here, is the only thing that can force me to feel everything without it feeling like I’m drowning.
She wraps her arms around my neck, then tangles her fingers in my hair and tugs on the strands, making me growl my approval. I grip the backs of her thighs and lift her. Her legs lock around me and the instant she feels how hard I am, she gasps into my mouth.
I begin walking back toward the beach with a sense of déjà vu, but it’s different this time. Last time was all about hate and manipulation but this time… I don’t know… can’t even explain it but it’s different. Something has shifted in the both of us.
When we reach the shore, I lower to my knees without breaking the kiss and reach to unclasp her bra, then gently lay her down.
I finally break the kiss and pull back. I peel the bra off and groan at the sight of her tits, they look bigger, fuller and my mouth waters for a taste.
I bend down and capture her nipple in my mouth.
She arches her back and cries out. The sound is like music to my fucking ears and fills my black soul with delight.
I switch to the other side, eliciting the same response from her.
She’s so damn responsive. I pull back and rest back on my haunches, then grip the band of her panties and peel them down her legs.
She looks worried as I toss them to the side, she looks side to side and that's when I realize what has her worried.
I grip her chin and force her focus back to me.
“Nobody gets to see you like this except me.” Her mouth parts with a silent gasp.
I use my free hand to cup her pussy making her gasp and jerk in my hold.
“No one else will ever get to know how fucking incredible it feels to be inside this tight cunt.” Her eyes blaze with need.
I glide a finger through her pussy, making her moan.
When I ease a finger inside her, I fucking groan, she’s soaked.
“Xaden.” She pants as I push a finger inside her, tip forward and brace my weight on my elbow, hovering just above her, as I keep fingering her perfect little pussy.
“Kiss me.” Her wish is my command. I slam my mouth on hers.
She tries to fight for dominance but she knows it's useless, I’m always in control.
A good man would be concerned that she’s here and not in the hospital, wondering if she’s okay and asking if she needs anything, but I’m not that guy.
I’m the son of the Devil and feel no remorse.
That’s why my last name has the perfect letters to spell devil.