Chapter 22 Elio
ELIO
Ican't stop looking at her.
Annie is asleep in the bed, her copper hair spread across the pillow, her face peaceful in a way I haven't seen since this nightmare started. The sheet has slipped down to her waist, and she’s so fucking perfect.
She’s the love of my life—and now, for a little while, she’s mine.
In the dawn light, I almost think that what happened was a dream. A beautiful, perfect dream that couldn’t possibly have been real. But it was. I woke up naked next to Annie—next to my wife—something that I never thought would ever fucking happen.
And what I said to her last night is true. She’s ruined me. There’s no way any other woman could ever compare. No way I’ll ever be able to want someone else. She’s everything.
She’s it. I’ll spend the rest of my life wanting her. I’ve already spent all of it doing just that so far. And now that I know what it feels like to have her…
I’m completely, utterly done for.
I should feel relief. We accomplished what we set out to do. The marriage is consummated, which means Desmond can't annul it. Annie is protected, at least legally. Mission accomplished.
Instead, I feel like I'm dying.
Because last night was everything I've ever wanted, and I know it can't last. This was a practical solution to a dangerous problem.
Once Desmond is dead, we'll divorce quietly and go back to our separate lives. I’ll have to try to forget what it felt like to be inside of her, to hear her moaning my name, to feel her coming on my cock.
The thought makes my chest ache.
I want her again. I want to stay all day in bed with her, take her over and over again until the feeling of my hands and lips and cock are imprinted on her skin and in her body.
I want her to never, ever be able to forget what it felt like to be mine, just like I’ll never be able to forget what it was like to finally have her.
To give her everything of me, and take what I wanted so desperately in return.
I was her first. Her first everything. And the thought of any other man touching her makes my blood run cold, then hot. Makes me want to kill any man who might think about it ahead of time, just to keep them from ever having a chance at her.
I ease out of bed carefully, trying not to wake her. She needs sleep after everything she's been through. And after everything we did last night.
The thought shouldn't make me feel possessive, but it does. She's mine now. My wife. The first man to have her, to be inside her, to make her come apart.
God help me, I want to be the fucking last.
I pull on clothes mechanically, my mind already spinning through the logistics of the day ahead.
I need to check in with my men, see if there's been any movement from Desmond.
I need to meet with Ronan and maintain the fiction that I'm still searching for his sister.
I need to figure out how to keep all these lies straight while the woman I love sleeps twenty feet away.
When I emerge from the bedroom, I make coffee on autopilot, my hands moving through the familiar motions while my brain refuses to settle. I keep seeing flashes from last night—Annie's face when she came, the way she said my name, the way she trusted me with all of her.
The way she felt wrapped around me, like she was made to fit me perfectly.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't hear her approach until she speaks.
"Morning."
I turn to find her standing in the doorway, wearing the clothes I took off her last night—just a tank top and sleep shorts.
I want to strip her bare all over again, have her on the kitchen table.
Just the thought is enough to make me hard, and I turn back to the counter for a moment, willing my erection to deflate. Once. We did it once. That’s it.
"Morning." I hand her a mug of coffee when I feel like I have a little more composure, careful to keep my distance. Her hair is a mess, and she's looking at me with an expression I can't quite read. If I touch her right now, I won't be able to stop. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine. A little sore, but fine." She studies my face. "Are you okay?"
No. I'm not okay. I'm in love with my childhood crush, who I just married in a fake ceremony to protect her from a psychopath, and last night I had the best sex of my life with a woman whose brother would kill me if he knew. I'm so far from okay I can't even see it from here.
"I'm fine," I lie.
"Elio, if this is about last night—"
"Last night was necessary." I force the words out, making my voice flat and emotionless. "You were right. We needed to consummate the marriage to make sure Desmond couldn't annul it. Now we have."
I see hurt flash across her face, and I hate myself for putting it there.
But it's better this way. Better to put distance between us now, before I do something stupid like tell her I love her and beg her to make this marriage real. To tell Ronan we’re going to be together whether he likes it or not.
If she begged him, would he let it stand? Ronan loves his family more than anything else in the world. If he knew it would cause Annie pain to lose me, would he still kill me for touching her? Or would he tell her that I used her, seduced her, and that she’ll understand one day?
I want to think he wouldn’t let Annie go through the pain of seeing someone she loves die. Knowing it was because of what we did.
But maybe she doesn’t love me. Maybe she feels something for me—desire, caring, nostalgia—but wouldn’t fight to make this real.
“Right,” she says quietly, sinking into a chair.
I turn away before she can see my face. "I'm going to check in with my men. Make sure there's been no movement from Desmond. You should stay inside today. Rest. There’s some food in the refrigerator you can heat up for meals."
"Okay." Her voice is toneless.
I head for the door, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to turn around, pull her into my arms, and tell her the truth. But I don't. I walk out into the cold morning air and get in my car, putting distance between myself and the woman who's become everything to me.
The woman I'm going to have to let go.
—
The meeting with Ronan is at ten, at the mansion. I'm running on no sleep and too much coffee, and I feel like I'm walking into an execution.
Ronan is standing at the window when I arrive. He looks haggard, older. Grief and worry have carved lines into his face.
And I'm the cause of it. Annie and I—but I’m the one going along with this. The one letting her dig a deeper and deeper hole with every day that passes—a hole that’s probably going to end up being my grave.
"Elio." He turns when I enter, and I see the shadows under his eyes. "Tell me you have good news."
"Still nothing concrete." The lie comes easier than it should. "But I have men following several leads. I think we're getting close."
"You've been saying that for days." There's an edge to his voice that wasn't there before. "Meanwhile, my sister is still missing. No contact, no ransom, nothing."
"I know. I'm doing everything I can—"
"Are you?" Ronan moves toward me, and I see something dangerous in his eyes. "Because I've been thinking, Elio. About the possibility that you’re not being up front with me about all of this.”
My pulse kicks up. "What do you mean?"
“I mean that Annie disappeared, and for some reason the next morning you were several hours outside of Boston. It took you what… three, four hours to get here? And now you’re following wild goose chases around the city.
Telling me to be patient while you come back again and again with no real news. ”
“I’m doing my best,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “I want to find her too, Ronan. It’s a big city. And she vanished without anyone knowing where she was going—”
Ronan’s jaw tightens. “You’ve been quick to steer this investigation from the beginning, Elio. You're the one who suggested that gang might be involved. You're the one who's been coordinating the search efforts. You're the one who—"
"Who what?" I meet his eyes, even though it’s difficult to seem as if there’s no struggle in doing so. "What are you accusing me of, Ronan?"
"I'm not accusing you of anything." But his tone says otherwise. "I'm just wondering why the man who used to be like my brother, the man I’ve given everything, seems to think he can find Annie for me but isn’t turning up a goddamn thing.”
This is it. This is where I either come clean or commit fully to the lie. And the truth is, I can't tell him. Not yet. Not until Desmond is dead and Annie is safe. Not until she and I have our story straight, the marriage is ended, and she can come home.
"I don't know where Annie is," I say, the lie burning my tongue. "I wish I did. I wish I could bring her home to you. But I don't have any more information than you do."
Ronan stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him trying to decide whether to believe me. Then he turns away, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm going crazy, Elio. My sister is out there somewhere, and I can't find her. I can't protect her. I failed Siobhan, and now I'm failing Annie too."
The pain in his voice cuts through me. "You didn't fail Siobhan." Fuck. All of this, and he’s going there anyway. Maybe Annie is right. Maybe it would be so much worse if he knew it was Desmond. But right now, it feels like I should just tell him. Like, I should put an end to this.
But I’d be betraying Annie if I did.
I thought I knew how painful love could be, back when I was young and stupid. I had no fucking idea.
"Didn't I?" He laughs bitterly. "I was so caught up in how much we hated each other that I ignored her. I let her carve out her own destruction because I was just happy to get some fucking peace. And then she and my child died. I failed her. I failed our child. And now I’m failing Annie—”