Scorch (Virtues & Lies 2)

“I wanted her so much.”

I imagine what her tears might feel like pooling on my chest, and how they might feel like acid corroding my skin.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to feel like this forever. I wish it had been me. If I could take her place…”

“Don’t say that.” My words come out rougher than I intend, but she’s talking about leaving me again, and I can’t fathom it. The thought makes me seethe.

“Why? Are you going to fix me, Christopher?” Bracing up on my chest with her forearms, she looks down at me. “Do you think you can…like…really fix me? Put all my pieces back together?” Her eyes close and with a subtle shake of her head, she murmurs, “I sure as hell can’t fix you.”

Her words crash through me, and before they have a chance to sit, I flip her onto her back. My hands holding me up over her, on either side of her head.

“I don’t want to be fixed.” I want to hold on every fucked-up piece of me, because it’ll be those pieces that carry me through every fucking hurdle I have to jump until I get every fucker who broke us. It’ll be those pieces that cut them up. “I don’t want that, but if you do, if that’s what you want…fuck, I don’t know… I have no idea where to start, but at least let me try. Give me a chance, Morena.”

Nodding softly, she pulls on the rope hanging between us, bringing me closer until I’m dead weight on top of her. Running my fingers through her hair, I expect it to fan out around her, but the short lengths sit wildly like a twisted crown atop her head.

Even torn to shreds she’s so fucking beautiful. More so now than ever before.

“Your eternity is mine. It has always been and always will belong to me.”

A deep sigh escapes her as I lick into her mouth. Her legs wrap around my thighs, feet crossing at my arse.

“You belong to me.”

Biting down on her lip as I brace myself back over her, I indulge her throaty moan as it scrapes between my teeth.

“And no one touches you but me.”

Unbuttoning a few buttons, I pull the collar of the shirt around her shoulders, yanking it down until it rests around her small waist, just below the swell of her breasts.

“I will destroy them like a common thief. Tear them apart piece by piece.”

When I start to unbutton the rest of the shirt, she stiffens, and before I can finish, her hand pulls mine away with a shake of her head. I want to push. I want to get my way. I want to see the damage, and I want to make sure she understands that it will change nothing. But I remember what Cassie told me. I can’t force my wants or needs on her.

Patience, Christopher.

For the first time in my life, I listen, and the feel of Arabella thawing beneath me feels as much of a victory as if she were to allow me to see every soft inch of her.

Kneeling up between her legs, I allow myself a moment to take her in. It feels like forever since I really looked at her. And I’m drinking her up, trying to see any of the ugly she thinks I’ll see. But there’s just her, my beautiful wife.

The woman who was willing to sacrifice herself for me. The woman who begged me to choose our daughter’s life over hers.

And if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. Arabella’s made me the man I am. Someone better than a saint or a god. Because I am real, and I don’t need to use anyone else to execute my brand of justice or salvation. I can smite and save with my own hands.

Lifting her legs over my chest, I trail her smooth skin. The faint scars on her kn

ees from her childhood. The almost invisible stretch marks on the inside of her fleshy, toned thighs.

I don’t get it. I can’t wrap my head around the fact she feels any less perfect now than before all this.

All I see before me is history. Our history. It’s not easy or nice, but like her, in its totality, it’s non-regrettable. I look at her and I see two kids that have become strong people.

“There’s so much fucking power in being broken and damaged. Did you know that?”

Resting one of my hands over her covered belly, I press a kiss to her ankle, another to the top of her foot, rounding to the arch with soft bites that have her toes curling.

Every inch of her is mesmerising.