Page 403 of Primal

He sets everything down and leans in. The towel’s warm, damp. He wipes me clean with slow, steady hands. My breasts. My belly. Between my legs, gentle even when I flinch.

His fingers pause between my thighs. “Hurts?”

I shake my head. It’s not pain. It’s how careful he is. Like I’m something precious.

“I can carry you to my room upstairs. If you want.”

“Here’s good.”

“Yeah?” His mouth curves faintly. “Me too.”

He climbs in beside me. Tugs a blanket over both of us.

“Kade?” I snuggle into him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you say no? Back when I asked you out.”

“Because I didn’t think I deserved you.”

My body’s wrecked. My heart’s cracked open.

“Max’s dad—Robert—was beating him. Cheating on my mom. One night, I just … snapped.” He swallows. “I killed him, Payton. Buried the body. Told them he left.”

The pre-Verge version of me would’ve flinched. But that girl’s gone.

“I think my mom always knew.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “She never said it, but she hates me.”

His eyes finally meet mine. “Do you?”

“Not at all. Thank you for telling me.”

He exhales—like something in him finally unclenches. His hand finds mine under the blanket.

“One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Should I start calling you Ben when you’re being soft?”

He gives me a look. “Try it and see what happens.”

When he kisses the top of my head and offers me half an Oreo, I think—

Maybe we’ll be okay.

This isn’t the stuff of dreamy love songs.

But it’s real. It’s ours.

It’ll damn well stay—demons, scars, and all.

Epilogue

“…and then the little ghost said, ‘ Boo’—but only because he wanted a friend.”

A few kids squeal with that particular kindergarten bravado—the kind that only exists among construction paper bats and glitter.