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“What? What do you need? Anything. You name it—”
“Sit the fuck down.”
Down I go. “Are you in pain? What can I do for you?”
“You can shut up and listen for once.” Done. Lips sealed. She struggles to take in a deep breath, moaning from her broken ribs. If that motherfucker had made it out alive, I would have killed him myself. It takes a bit for her to gather her thoughts, and every second that passes worries me.
She weakly squeezes my hand. “I want nothing more than for this to be a reality. I’m in love with you too. The moment you walked into that dorm room, something inside me knew we were connected. And I do forgive you. But I can’t come between you and Hazel. I have enough respect for her to walk away.” Her left hand is in a cast, and I refuse to let her right hand go, so I help her by wiping away the stream of tears. “I’m sorry. I’m just a mess right now. Jim…they said he—”
“Shhh…don’t go there. You’re alive, and that’s the only thing that matters. We’re gonna get you out of here, and I’m going to take you home and baby the fuck out of you until you get better.” A small chuckle falls off her lips, then she groans, and I instantly regret the joke. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Heath, I’m thankful you’d do all that for me, but I told you, I won’t go without Hazel’s approval, and I don’t see that—”
“And like I said, once we get home, I’m going to get you situated in my bed. Sponge baths are probably a must. I will make sure to take extra good care of all your needs—”
“Heath, I’m serious.”
I bring her hand to my lips. “So am I.” I feather her knuckles with kisses. “Hazel and I had a talk. I explained us. The real us. And she gave me her blessing.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “She did?”
I nod, never breaking eye contact. “I own you, naughty girl. Tell me you forgive me, and I’ll never let you go.” Every second that passes without a reply maddens me. I need to know she belongs to me and only me. If she turns me down, I’ll break. I’ll lose my shit and tear this entire world apart until she changes her mind and sees just how deep my newfound obsession for her runs.
“I—”
“Fuck, don’t do this to me. Don’t give me bad news. I’m an old man, and this old heart—”
She pulls her hand away, smacking mine. “Oh, shut it. You’re not old. You’re in better shape than most people my age.”
I smile at her compliment. “Why, thank you. Does that mean it’s a yes?” I’m a bastard. I stare her down, reeling her into my web of pleasure and promise.
“That’s cheating,” she says, calling me out, but I don’t give a shit. Whatever it takes to make her entirely mine.
“I never claimed to be a good man, naughty girl.” I reclaim her hand and press a single kiss to the inside of her palm. “Let me own you, Violet. Be mine.” Too much time passes. “Answer goddammit. You’re killing me here.”
“I was going to say yes right at the beginning, but I was enjoying you begging for once.”
My bad, bad girl. I stretch over her and take her lips. “Mine. Always mine.”
“Yours.”
Violet
Three weeks later…
As Hazel and I pull up to the house, I grab the door handle in anticipation. I can’t wait to get out of this car and stretch out my cramped leg. Even more so, I can’t wait to get rid of this damn boot. Everything seems to be healing nicely, and hopefully tomorrow’s appointment has me walking freely.
“It’s so good to be home,” I say, unlatching my seatbelt. Home. It’s such a crazy word to say.
“Yeah… so hey, just head in. I gotta go run an errand. Tell Dad I’ll be late, ’kay?”
I eye Hazel curiously. Something’s still up with her. It’s unlike her to not want to come in first to see her dad. If I wasn’t just as anxious to get inside to see Heath, I’d question her. So, I let it go, making a mental note to drill her later. The upside is I get Heath all to myself for a bit.
“Yeah, sure,” I reply and climb out, steadying myself. Hazel waves and takes off down the driveway, her car stuffed to the brim with our things for fall break. When her car disappears from sight, I turn on my boot and hurry inside. “Daddy, I’m home,” I sing, joking since Hazel isn’t around to gag and make fun. I’m met with silence as I walk through the low-lit kitchen, my boot clanking against the marble tile. It’s well past six in the evening, so Heath should be home from work. “Heath?” I call out, but again, nothing in return. What the heck? He said he would be home. I drop my backpack on the counter, and head toward his office. I plan on finding him at his desk with his signature bourbon, but his office is empty.
