Page 89 of Promise of Punishment

The large wall surrounding the abandoned garden comes into view, stealing my attention. I gasp as memories flood my mind.

Clambering onto rickety crates to scale the wall. How magical I thought the place was when I found it, as if the world had gifted it to me as something special. The many times I snuck inside to record videos to post. The peace I found there, as temporary as it was. The day I stumbled upon Wes, clueless then about how deeply he would shape my life and future.

“Wow,” I breathe out as the golf cart comes to a stop near the iron gate. The trees and grass are taller, and more ivy climbs the wall, but the gate looks clear of all debris.

Wes comes around to my side and holds out his hand. I take it and follow him to the gate.

“I thought the key was lost,” I say.

He smirks. “It is, so I had the gardener break the lock in case you ever wanted to return to it.”

Will I ever get used to the love this man shows me and how it fills me with so much warmth, it makes me an emotional wreck. For a person who never cried much and only under extreme circumstances, I’ve become a sap. Then again, it could be the pregnancy hormones.

Wes gives the gate a hard shove. It creaks loudly and opens just enough for us to enter. Once we’re inside, it’s obvious why it wouldn’t open all the way. A huge rose bush with blush-pink petals blocks the space. The air sweetens with the scent of apples, coming from the flowers.

Unable to resist, I take my phone from my pocket and record the roses dancing in the breeze. Then I turn and video the rest. Moss grows everywhere, coating some statues completely. Ivy entwines them too and consumes half the three-tiered fountain. White water lilies float in the murky pools, spinning softly in the breeze. It’s magical. I zoom in for a few moments. Several of the trees are draped in violet wisteria, the clusters hanging over tangled branches. What an amazing phenomenon nature is.

Wes doesn’t interrupt me, just watches as I record thick moss covering parts of rocks and a broken bench. I turn the camera to purple foxgloves and wild daisies blooming through the tall grass. An overgrown bush at least five feet tall catches my gaze. I record it, unaware I’m near the shed until it appears on my screen. The brick structure surprises me. I lower my phone.

“It looks the same,” I murmur, unless my memory is off.

“I had the gardener clean this up too.” Wes opens the arched wood door. It creaks, but not nearly as loud as the gate.

I join Wes at the entrance and peer inside. Sleeping bags like the ones I’d laid out for us cover the floor.

I gasp again. “How’d you remember? You could barely see.”

Wes’s bluebell eyes sparkle. “I could see enough. It wasn’t a moment I’d ever forget. I thought about it for years, committing it to memory.” He slips off his shoes and sits on the sleeping bag, his hand raised to mine. I leave my wedges by the door and sit beside him, the way I did on our last night together.

Wes shakes his head. “I want you here, Fable.” He pats his lap, and I straddle him, my hands on his broad shoulders, his on my waist. “You became my angel in this shed. I christened you with the nickname back then. They say people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Sometimes you know how important that person is when you first meet them because they stay with you long after they’re gone.” Wes sweeps my hair behind my shoulder and cups the back of my neck. “No one has ever stayed with me the way you did. I don’t even like people, except for a few.”

I giggle, remembering how Lachlan teased Wes about that on the plane.

“You hate everyone, Wes,” Lachlan said, “except for your sister and Fable. I don’t even think you like me half the time.”

Emery cracked up, almost choking on a cracker. I wanted to laugh, too, but held it back with a tight-lipped smile. The two men act like siblings.

“You stayed with me too, even though I hated you. But only because I wanted to kill you,” I tease.

“You do kill me—with your beauty, your sweetness, your body, and the way you give yourself freely to me.” He runs his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’ll happily take the punishment if it means I get to keep you forever.”

“You have me, Wes. You’ve had me long before I even knew it.” I lean forward and kiss his lips.

His tongue slides into my mouth with a soft groan as he pulls me close to him, and his hard cock. My body grows hot with desire and so much love. I know exactly what I want to do in this shed.

I saved his life in here. Now, I want to give him my body and soul. And soon, I’ll give him our baby—a future conceived long ago by a tragic twist of fate.

Beauty can come from abandonment. Healing from near-death. And love from hate. If anyone says otherwise, tell them my story.

*Keep reading for the epilogue and bonus chapter.

New to the series?

Start at the beginning with Prince of Pain, Adelaide and Kingston’s heartbreaking story.

EPILOGUE

Fable, 25