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I barely let Emily sleep all night. Not that I could help it. One thought kept repeating, one phrase that was so impossible that it woke me up almost every hour, which led me to need her again.
I promise...
Fuck, those words have the ability to tear me apart, to make me believe it’s possible I can somehow make things right.
Me. The man who only knows how to fuck people up, the person who is sent in when things need to be broken, has to fix something for once.
How the hell will I do this?
Emily is asleep next to me, her red hair fanned over the pillow. I’ve been awake for the past hour, my gaze studying her sleeping face, my hands unable to resist touching her.
At some point, I wrapped my arms around her body, and when my fingers brushed against the engagement ring on her finger, a vein of jealousy unfurled inside me. Not just jealousy, but the need to rip the ring off and toss it away, the need to stop her marriage to Mason before it tears us all to shreds.
Obviously, I’m not worried Mason will want the marriage anymore than Emily and I do. He’s happy with Ava, so in love that I know he’s working to find a way out of the arrangement made for him and Emily before they were born.
Still, it hangs over them like a shroud. And now it hangs over me because I’m part of this.
My grand gesture isn’t even close to finished. I have barriers to break down, problems to torch and burn.
Fuck that ring.
I’ll be tossing it back to Mason eventually.
But for now, my first task is dealing with Damon.
As soon as I move, Emily whines in complaint, her arms holding onto mine tighter. I plant a soft kiss against her temple.
“I have to go.”
“Why?” she mumbles, her eyes closed and her mind still half-asleep.
Laughing softly, I press my mouth to her ear.
“Your beast has battles to fight. Someone has to help you hold up that crown.”
“Not a queen,” she murmurs into the pillow before falling back to sleep.
Emily has no idea what she is. I have every intention to not only make her see it, but to never let her forget it.
Groaning to have to let her go, I push myself up, get dressed and turn to look at her again before leaving.
Mine, I think, all while knowing it will be a fight to keep her. Especially where I’m going.
Forcing myself out the door, I leave Emily’s house and walk out to my bike. Before pulling my helmet on, I notice the dent in her car again, my brows crashing together. I need to ask her about that, but it can wait until later.
The ride home is fast with very few cars on the road, the engine of my bike screaming as I race down one street and another.
Pulling into the driveway of the house I share with Damon, I wonder how any of this shit is going to work.
I want Emily with me. Permanently at this point. But her parents would lose it if she tried to move out of her house, and I’m not sure how Damon would react if I demanded she live here. It’s one thing for him to know she’s with me, but a whole different story to have it in his face.
Sitting back on my bike, I stare up at our place, a house of cement, steel and glass, utilitarian like us. Sleek lines without any of the fancy, highbrow bullshit Tanner and Gabe prefer.
And I’m fucking stalling by just sitting here.
It’s not that I don’t want to tell Damon, it’s that we’re not the type to talk. It’s going to be a fight.
Knowing that, I roll my head over my shoulders to loosen the muscles, my hands stretching out to ease the tension in my fingers.
