Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I felt him tangle his hand in my hair, keeping my face pressed to his chest.
“Fuck, Bunny. I didn’t want this for you.” Anguish laced his voice. “Goddammit, sweetheart.” He cupped either side of my head and pulled me back, tipping it so I was looking into his face.
He smoothed his thumbs across my cheeks, and that had me slowly finding my center. I was still crying, still felt the intense discomfort of what had just happened, but I felt anchored as he held me.
“Why?” I whispered that lone word, knowing he would understand what I meant, what I was asking. For long moments, he was silent.
His gaze moved over to Michael, and I closed my eyes. I killed somebody.
“Shhh. It’s all right, baby.” His voice was soft and soothing.
I realized I had said those words out loud.
“I kept him here for my perversion, to watch him suffer. To watch him die.” His voice was monotone, void of emotion, and I opened my eyes to look at him. He still stared at Michael. “And I don’t regret it.”
My gaze went to the box on the ground that had held the Polaroids, and I felt that uncomfortable tightness in my chest once more.
“I always wondered what Zachariah and our father did with the pictures they took. It was when you mentioned the box that he cherished that I knew what was inside. I had my men look through all his belongings until they found it.”
Although he watched me, there was this faraway expression in his eyes, as if he were thinking about those pictures.
“I looked at every single one of them, held each one in my hands, and was brought back to those moments when that pain was recorded. A living reminder of my soul being ripped out forever.”
He brushed away the tears as they continued to fall.
“And then I set the box by the old bastard’s bed, wanting him to see it, to know what was inside. I wanted him to know he’d never look at them again. He’d never have that pleasure or high.”
He lowered his head and sent a dark look toward Michael’s corpse. “It might not seem like much, but to him… to him I know it was agony. I know if he could’ve reached across and clutched those pictures to his chest, he would have.”
“I’m so sorry.” Those words weren’t even enough to touch the surface of all the horrors he faced.
As everything cleared, the rushing in my head faded. I inhaled deeply to take in more of Hades’ scent that washed away the smell of decay and antiseptic. I realized his face was beat to hell.
A small sound left me and I lifted my hands, touching the corner of his mouth, where his lip was busted. His eye was bruised, swollen, and he had a nasty cut at his temple.
He didn’t even wince, did nothing but stare into my eyes. And then he shook his head slowly, leaning in to kiss me softly. “It’s nothing. Nothing else matters.”
He kept saying those words repeatedly until he pressed my face to his chest, his hand once more at the back of my head, holding me close to him.
“You’re here with me. You’re mine, and that’s all I care about anymore. You’re all I fucking care about.”
“I killed him.” Although I’d been shocked that I’d done what I’d done, I felt nothing but this deep, satisfied sensation. It was like turning that last page and finishing a book. “All these years you had to hang on to all of it. I’m so damn sorry that it made you hate yourself, to seek pain, to think you only had one option.”
I pulled back and he let me, but had his hands on my waist, his fingers digging into my hips. “I killed him and I’m not even sorry I did it. I wish I could do it again.”
“Baby. God, my sweet girl.”
“I wish I could’ve been there. I would’ve protected you, Hades.” He exhaled so sharply it was as if I’d knocked the breath right out of him. And then he leaned down, resting his forehead against mine.
“I love you. I love you so fucking much. I’m not worthy of having you, and I know you deserve so much better, but I’m too fucking selfish to ever let you leave me. I’d rip my heart out for you. I’d fucking serve it on a platter and let you see me take my last breath if it made you smile.”
He cupped my cheeks and looked into my eyes.
“And I’ll prove to you for the rest of my worthless fucking life that one day I will be worth your love. It might not be until I’m on my deathbed, but one day I’ll prove it to you.”
Although he wasn’t crying, which was something I didn’t even think he was capable of, he sounded choked up, and the anguish on his face was tangible. “Don’t you see?” I rose on my toes and was the one to kiss him now.