Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 60921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I thrust up into her. “Yeah, really fucking good.”
She speeds up the tempo. “What if I’m naughty instead?”
A grin splits my face. “You want to be naughty for me?”
She shoots me a look that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. One that if I wasn’t in love with her already, I’d definitely be now. “Very naughty.” She climbs off my lap, moving over to the rug in the middle of the living room. She gets down on all fours, and gazes at me from over her shoulder. “Do me from behind.”
Fuck me.
I run a hand through my hair, and grip my hard cock in my hand, stroking it as I move in behind her. She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I position myself, and slam into her in one punishing strike. “So naughty.” I slap her ass as my other hand glides up her back, to the base of her scalp, and up into her hair.
I pull her hair, bringing her closer to me. “I love you this way,” I tell her. Proud that I’m the only man on the planet who gets this side of her.
The naughty side.
Mine.
I keep pushing into her, slamming my cock deeper and deeper. She moans, cries, and screams out my name as she comes so violently I swear she’s shaking.
I chase her orgasm with my own, holding onto her tightly as our bodies calm.
When we finally slow, I pull her back onto the couch with me. We lie there together, breathing heavy, our bodies a complete mess.
But she’s my mess.
I pull a blanket over us.
She’s out within minutes.
The kind of sleep that only comes when your brain believes—just briefly—that the monster at the door has been locked out.
I watch her breathe.
Watch her face soften.
Watch the faint crease between her brows ease.
And something in me goes hard and ruthless. Because this is not sustainable.
Not with Luka’s money on our heads.
Not with Serafina’s shadow bleeding into Maddox territory.
Not with the world deciding our love story is target practice.
I shift carefully, easing out from under her without waking her.
She murmurs my name in her sleep, frowning slightly.
I freeze. Then I brush a kiss to her temple. “Soon,” I whisper.
I hate myself for it.
I stand and move quietly to the duffel. I dress as quickly as humanly possible. My hands are steady even though my chest isn’t.
Phone.
Wallet.
Spare burner.
Knife.
Jacket.
I leave the bat.
I scribble a note on the back of a receipt and keep it short.
Not running from you.
Running for you.
I’ll be back.
—K
It’s not enough. However, it’s all I can manage without waking her and letting her talk me out of my worst instincts.
I slide the note under the coffee mug she used earlier. Then I head for the door. The keypad blinks soft blue. The city hum is muted beyond the glass.
I hesitate with my hand on the lock.
Because I did promise.
Together.
Because she will be furious.
Because the first rule of loving a chaos girl is that she doesn’t let you martyr yourself without consequences.
But I can’t let her be the collateral for my morals.
Not tonight.
I step out into the hallway.
Lock the door behind me.
And walk into Halo City’s night like a man about to start a war—
with no intention of letting the woman I love be the battlefield.
TWENTY
STAY PUT
LARK
For three glorious seconds after I wake up, I forget we’re on the run.
I forget the bounty. The broken cabin. The ugly motel. The new safehouse with a name that sounds like a superhero’s name.
I’m warm. Safe. Tucked into a blanket that smells clean and expensive. The morning light in Aegis is soft, filtered through city haze and tall windows, turning the condo into something almost… normal.
I roll toward Knight.
My hand meets cold air.
I blink.
I sit up.
The other side of the couch is empty.
The blanket has been folded. The pillow is aligned. The duffel is lighter—missing weight, missing presence, missing the man who was supposed to be my together.
Then I see the note.
Short.
Minimal.
Knight in five words.
Not running from you.
Running for you.
I’ll be back.
—K
I stare at it until my vision blurs. And then I do what any reasonable woman does when her boyfriend commits a noble idiot maneuver without consulting her—
I go incandescent.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I whisper-shout into the quiet condo.
The words bounce off the walls and die. I stand so fast my knees wobble. I pace. I yank open the duffel like maybe he’s hidden in there with a sheepish smile and a “surprise, Birdie.”
He isn’t.
The burner’s gone.
His jacket’s gone.
The knife’s gone.
And my trust? Currently sprinting after him down the nearest fire escape.
I snag my phone and call Arrow before I can talk myself into tearing this entire condo apart with my bare hands.
He picks up on the first ring. “Lark.”
“He’s gone.”
No greeting.
No pleasantries.
Just the truth like a thrown knife.
Arrow exhales like he was bracing for this. “Yeah.”