“No.” My response is louder than I’d like, a prick of panic lacing under my skin at the idea of being called that name. I steady my breath and shake my head, breathing easier with the truth. “I am Olivia now. Vivian is dead. Just like Will.”
“I see,” he says softly.
I place my hand over my midsection and sigh. “Will’s death could have been prevented. My grandfather had all kinds of safety protocols in check. He saw the warning signs. He even talked to Will without me knowing and begged him to take serious measures for our protection. I begged Will to talk to the police too, but he said he was enough … he obviously wasn’t. I wish someone would have been strong enough to kill Lonnie, but no one took that step.”
My chest aches with the confession, but there are no tears, not anymore. A ravage heat at the base of my spine replaces the wetness that used to live in my eyes, and I’m certain of it...
I love this man.
“You took that step tonight.” I grip my hand around Grant’s and squeeze it until my fingertips throb with lack of circulation. “I’m thankful for you, Grant. Thankful that you’re fucking strong enough to stop what others can’t. Seth was a monster who hurt women and abused them. I was hurt and abused. So no,” I say, gritting my teeth together, “I don’t think less of you for killing him—for keeping me safe and protecting me. If anything, I think you’re the greatest human being on earth.”
At last, my Grant returns.
His blue eyes are the hottest flames as he hooks his finger under my chin and forces our gazes to clash.
“I’d murder a million times over if it meant your safety … your happiness. I mean it, darling. If the world needs to run red for you to feel safe again, I’ll make it reality. You just need to give me the command.”
The words are a lighted match, in gasoline. As soon as they hit, my remaining fears detonate, melting from the inside as a blistering heatwave settles in my heart and spills into the rest of my body. Not only has he ruined the organ, but he’s stolen it away. It only beats to his rhythm now, and I as feel his pulse pounding in his fingertips, my beats adjust accordingly, matching his.
The explosion I felt seconds ago has driven me across the bed, and I find myself straddling his lap, cupping his face as tears slide from my eyes down my cheeks. “You asked me months back if I didn’t mind being smudged by your fingerprints. Then, I told you I felt freer. Now I’m here to tell you that I love being soiled by your life. I love the residue you leave on my soul, and I don’t want to live any other way. I was made for this … made for you.”
The words burn the back of my throat, and I grind against him.
“God. Could you be any more perfect?” His reply is fire-laced, but the kiss he devours me with, more so, and I’m already sunk into his soul as his tongue glides against my mouth.
He speaks the language of my twisted heart. But I’m done fighting the distorted, because the sane is no longer my norm—the corrupt is. My whole existence has been tainted by the ugliest things, and I’m starting to think that if I want to fight what haunts me, I’ll have to do exactly as Grant declared. Torment those who torment me, and take the peace not being offered to me.
Our lips entangle in a frenzy. I grasp at him, finally understanding that he’ll be the last man I ever touch—kiss him in acknowledgment that this is only man I’ll ever taste again. There is no one else. No one who will take risks like this for me, and I’ll never be able to let him go.
I pant at how hard my realization is, of how deeply my love flows, and want to tell him. I’m dying to.
He’s gliding his hand up my back when the words grow thick in my throat.
“Grant,” I choke out, strained.
He slows, like he can hear the difference in my tone. “Yes, darling?”
The heat as he stares into my eyes, his soft tone—everything. He’s too much and my confession starts to evaporate.
I stroke my finger down his cheek, praying for a fresh wave of courage. “Grant, I–” His eyes narrow a fraction, and it’s enough to cloud my senses about making such a bold confession. Sucking in a large breath, I shake my head a margin and try to smile. But my heart ends up jumpstarting to life when he freezes and his eyes soften.
Only a moment passes before he lowers his lips to mine, brushing them softly before breaking the silence.
“I know,” he mutters. “And I love you too.” I gasp, and he trembles against my mouth, his voice cracking. “I love you so much, Olivia, and no power anywhere, this earth, heaven, or hell can change that. Fuck, I just … I love you.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “That’s exactly what I was going to say. I love you, Grant.”
Cold air hits my nipples, and I arch my back as Grant lowers his frame and closes his mouth over one of the pebbling peaks. He lays me back, boxing me inside his frame, and I wrap my legs around his, urging him closer. I want him so near tonight. When our chests finally meet, I roll off the mattress, unable to tolerate even the smallest distance between us.
“God da—” Grant’s words evaporate as I stroke my palm over his hardening cock. He groans instead, right before muttering out the word “Mine.”
I stroke him harder, until he’s straining against the material of his boxers. My already pounding pulse hits a catatonic state at the base of neck as he jerks the article of clothing down to his thighs and lines himself up.
There’s only a second to comprehend and understand that tonight isn’t about being gentle. This moment is about showing our rough, untamed edges—the unhinged parts of us that we try to hide from the prying world, but share solely with each other.