I do…I do believe him.
I’d been following my guidance counselor’s plan for so many years. Get the practical degrees, snag the good husband, move to the suburbs and live a nice, normal life that will make up for everything that came before me achieving responsible adult status.
But that was just a list that someone else made up.
These are the things I truly wanted in my heart: Someone who would claim me. Someone who would make me truly belong. Someone who would teach me to be me. Someone who would always take my side, even when I was on the opposite side from him.
I had no idea when I met him, but Waylon was exactly what I wanted—not just that…. What I needed. And I put him in a bad position with Hades.
I can't be sorry for helping Stephanie, but I get why he’s standing in front of me with this pissed-off version of his love.
I still can't believe he did it. Looked straight at Stephanie, then closed the door and told me, “Come on.”
He kissed me hard on the mouth, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the hotel room to the parking lot where he announced to the rest of the bikers that it was just me. He told them that Stephanie had already left on a bus but didn’t tell me where she was going.
After that, there came a long ride on the back of a bike he’d borrowed to meet up with Hades at the roadhouse.
Waylon locked me in this room, saying in a low voice that he wasn't sure if he could control the situation if Hades laid eyes on me.
And now he’s standing over me, pissed off at me for doing this. Probably pissed off at himself for falling in love with me in the first place.
So, it feels like an act of courage when I stand up and wrap my arms around the pissed-off predator to tell him, “I know. Especially now. I love you too. I love you so much. Thank you.”
“Don't thank me,” he says, tipping up my chin. “There's a price to pay for this kind of loyalty. I want babies—at least three like Colin and Kyra. And you having a choice about saying you belong to me on official paper? That’s off the table, angel. I'm taking you to the first courthouse we see in Iowa.”
I couldn’t be more thrilled about his announcement, but I have to point out, “I don't think that's how marriage papers work since women aren’t chattel.”
He glowers down at me after his very long day, and I rush to add, “But, yes. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I meant everything I said in that hotel room.”
He looks at me, and finally, his expression softens. “I know you did, angel. Or we wouldn't be here. Now strip.”
Five minutes later, my head is pushed into the pillow, and he’s taking me from behind with rough strokes while promising all sorts of punishments for what I did here today.
Occasionally he stops to whisper growl in my ear, “I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
What we have…it's crazy. It's not right. It's wicked laced through with bad, bad, bad.
But I whisper back, “I love you so fucking much, too.”
My punishment for crossing Waylon is life. The rest of my years will be spent in Angel Pond with him administering the life sentence I deserve.
And I am very okay with my punishment. I thank everyone and every event that brought us together.
Then I moan and ask for more, more, more.
I want everything.
With him.