by Autumn Karr
“Fuck, I'm sorry,” he grits out as he enters me, his eyes on where both of us are now joined. Slowly he pulls out, then just as slowly thrusts in again, driving me crazy. I sink my nails into his back, urging him to go faster, lifting my hips up to meet him thrust for thrust, until he leans over me, pulling my hands above my head and threading our fingers together. Pushing our joint hands into the mattress, he grinds his hips into mine over and over again. I close my eyes shut, getting lost in the feeling, the pleasure. I feel his hot, wet mouth on my nipple, teasing, biting, sucking, heightening my pleasure, making it almost unbearable to withstand.
“Leighton,” he rasps out, and I open my eyes, staring back into the ones of the man I love. The man I’m leaving. Knowing this is the last time I’ll ever be with Devon makes me want to break down, but I don’t. Instead, I hold his penetrating gaze, panting as he gives me what I want, makes love to me for the last time. I wrap my legs around his hips, a sound escaping my lips as I erupt with pleasure. I hear Devon curse as my thighs tremble, and he brings his lips to mine, kissing me hungrily as wave after wave of ecstasy has me moaning into his mouth and gripping onto him for dear life.
“You’re perfect for me, you know that?” he whispers as he pulls his mouth from mine. And in this moment, in this bed, we are perfect for each other. In our own little world, where no one else exists, where nothing else matters, we are perfect for each other in each and every way possible. He thrusts again deeply, pulling me from my thoughts. I gasp as he pulls me up into a sitting position, and lifts me so I’m sitting on his thighs while he is in a kneeling position. He lifts his hips, bouncing me on his cock. His eyes are glued to my breasts as they bounce with the motion each time he pushes into me. His fingers dig into my hips, trying to pull me closer, trying to get himself deeper, probably leaving bruises. He bites on my nipple as he comes inside of me, thrusting furiously. He calls out my name, saying it reverently, like a caress. He pulls away and lifts his head up, his eyes unguarded.
“I love you. Whatever happens, I just want you to remember that,” he says, lifting his hand to push away the damp hair from my face. It sounds like a promise—or maybe an apology.
“I love you, too,” I tell him, putting my hand over his chest, feeling his heart slow to a steady, sure beat. Mourning what we had, as sweet and short as it was. I've never loved anyone as much as I love him.
* * * *
“It's snowing,” Devon says, looking out the window. He's only in his boxers, his every muscle sharper, harder under the moonlight filtering in. He checks his phone again, probably for the fifteenth time since he got out of bed. The screen illuminates his frown as he reads whatever is on it.
I lick the chocolate filling off my fingers, then take another donut and bite into it. I don’t really feel like eating, but I’ll need the energy tonight.
He looks up from the phone and looks at me. “Enjoying those?”
“My favorite,” I say, giving him a fake smile.
A slow grin pulls at his lips. “Yeah,” he says softly, still smiling. “If you want some fresh air, you're going to have to get out of that bed, you know,” Devon says with a satisfied smirk, turning his attention back to the window. I roll over onto my stomach and smile sadly. I wish I never had to get out of his bed.
When he sees my expression, he walks back to me, and leans down, kissing me on the nose, then on my lips. “Leighton—”
His phone beeps and he exhales deeply, pulling away from me and looking at the screen again. “Come on, get dressed,” he says suddenly. “Fresh air.”
My smile fades as I realize that my time has run out. This is it. I sit up and grab some fresh clothes out of the closet, a pair of jeans and a black V-neck sweater. Devon dresses, and I feel his eyes on me as I walk to the bathroom to get his jacket, but pretend I don’t notice.
“You ready?” he asks, putting his own jacket on.
“Yeah,” I say, but I'm not. I don't want to do this.
DEVON
I take her hand and descend the stairs, dragging her behind me. She walks slowly, hesitantly, as if she doesn't want to leave. As soon as we're out of here, I'm going to clue her in on what exactly is going on, but I don't want her to panic. If they catch us red-handed, we're both done for.
So I lead her downstairs as quietly as possible, going over my plan once again in my head. I left the car in the garage, where I’ll have to somehow sneak in Leighton. I have another car waiting at, ironically, the same parking lot where George and I caught Leighton sneaking up on us. It's abandoned, and there's not a lot of chance someone will see us switching cars there. I'll leave my car and take the other one, and let Colin deal with everything else.
We exit the house and I don't waste time, I lead her straight toward the garage with quick steps. I stop at the gate and turn around, looking at the house where I spent all my life, being, but not living. The only time I'm alive is when I'm with her.
“What are you doing?” she asks, confused, once we’re inside the garage.
I shush her with my hand and open the car door, motioning for her to get in. I didn’t lock it earlier or close it all the way for fear of alerting someone and having them check what’s going on. Wordlessly, she gets in the car. I round it and get in myself, starting the car and pulling out through the raised garage door.
I see two men by the gate. “Get down,” I tell her. She complies without a question. I turn on my headlights, hoping to blind them, and their heads snap in my direction, both of them squinting. One of them raises his hand when he sees it’s me. I pass by them without acknowledging them. It’s what I would usually do.
“Where are we going?” Her voice is taking on a panicky note and I decide to put her out of her misery.
“We're leaving, Leighton.” I glance down to the legroom space where she’s squished. “They were going to take you. I couldn't let that happen.”
“I know.” She touches my hand on the shift stick, her palm lingering on it. I glance at her, and then back to the road. “What about everything else? What about my family?”
“You can come up now,” I say once we’re safe, but really, I’m just buying some time. I hate that I have to tell her this. “It's out of my hands,” I tell her after a beat. “I don't think it ever was in my hands.”
I expect her to say more, but she just looks out the window.
Reaching the parking lot, I park the car and get out. I open the door for her and help her out as well. My old phone, my documents, everything, I’m leaving it all in the car. Earlier snowfall has turned into a blizzard, the cold snowflakes hitting my face sharply at all angles as I lead her to the other car. I get inside, taking the new prepaid phone I purchased earlier and checking to see if Colin or Justin have messaged me yet. There’s nothing.
After looking around the car to make sure we have everything we’ll need, I glance back at Leighton, her hair swirling in the wind, her cheeks slightly flushed. She makes eye contact, but something feels off in the way she looks at me.
Just a little longer and we'll both be free. I'll spend the rest of my life saying sorry for what I almost did, for what I can't stop.
In a moment of perfect clarity I realize there’s no point in all those deaths. It won't bring my family back. It was never really about my family, I realize bitterly. I was a pawn to my uncle, a way to get even more power. He used my loss to manipulate me. I'm probably saving my own life by leaving.
I squeeze her hand tighter, pulling her to me. I kiss her. I kiss her guilt-free, the way I should have kissed her all along. She responds, meeting my tongue with hers, her hand skimming my jaw. I cup her face with my palm, unable to pull away from her. When I finally do, I graze her cheek with my nose, loving the way she seems just as reluctant to leave me as I am to leave her. Our breaths mingle as I look into her icy blues, so much emotion in something so simple as eye contact.
And in this moment, I feel it in my bones. I know without a doubt, I’m doing the right thing. Something wet touche
s my fingers, and I wipe away the tear that slides down her cheek.
She steps back, a blank look on her face. Another step back. And another.
“Leighton, what's going on?”
She puts up her hand, shutting me up. She pulls out a gun from the jacket pocket.
A gun. I recognize it instantly—it's the one I had on me the night we caught her sneaking in this same parking lot. I tried not to take weapons into her room for fear I'd do this exact same thing she's doing right now.
She raises it with a trembling hand. It's shaking so hard I'm afraid she'll drop it, and kill herself or me by accident. She grips it with both her hands and points it at me, steadying the gun.
I watch, numb, as the snowflakes land on her face, melting the moment they touch lips I just kissed.
“I can’t lose my family, Devon.” It’s as simple as that.
I open my mouth to speak.
“No, let me finish.” She’s shivering; I can tell she’s cold. Why did I expect her to just let this go? “You’ve lost your family and that’s a horrible thing, but do you think if you do the same to me I’ll be able to ever look at you again?”
I look away, because that’s exactly what I thought. I thought we could leave and never look back, and just let everyone kill each other until they’re all gone. I only need her.
“Because that was never going to happen, Devon. I’m not letting them die if I can do something about it. It’s what you would have done, isn’t it? Isn’t it?” She yells the last part when I don’t answer her.
I nod reluctantly, because she’s right. I’d have done anything I could to stop what happened, but I was just a fucking kid. She can do something about it.
“Now, tell me, do you love me?”
She still has me at gunpoint. “You know I do.”
“Then come with me, and let’s figure this out. Let’s do something so no one has to die. Didn’t you have enough of death in your life?”
And snitch on my own family? I don’t think so. Whatever they did, however they used me for their own plans, no matter how many times I wished my uncle was dead because he didn’t accept me, I’d never betray them. It’s instilled in me. Family first. Everything else—my own life, Leighton’s love—everything else comes after that. Going away is the only option.
“No,” I say, knowing what will happen next. “And you know I can’t let you do that, either.”
She cocks the gun and shoots. Just like that. I find myself on the wet pavement, a dull ache shooting through my whole upper body. I raise my head, looking around, not exactly sure what just happened. Then the pain comes, the real, excruciating pain slicing through my arm. I want to move, but even thinking about it hurts like hell. She hovers over me, looking through my jacket, stubbornly avoiding my gaze. My eyes are half-closed as it is, the unconsciousness taking over. She finds what she was looking for. If I weren't dying, I'd laugh. My phone. My stupid fucking phone.
I've laid it all out for her perfectly. Her fucking hero.
I close my eyes, finding it hard to open them again.
“Dom, it's Leighton,” she says, barely audible through the whooshing wind in my ears. She's calling Dom. I don't know why I need to remember it, seeing as I'm dying, but I know I need to remember she called Dom. “I'm at the abandoned parking lot at the harbor, near the ferry terminal. Can you come?” A pause. “We can talk about that later, Dom, just come, please. Hurry.”
Something presses into my shoulder and it hurts even more than I thought imaginable, pulling me further under. “You're going to be okay,” she tells me, as I hear a car pull into the parking lot. Her lips press against mine. “I'm sorry,” she whispers, and then she leaves.
LEIGHTON
Stuffing the phone in my pocket, I get in the car, sparing Devon one last glance. I know he'll be fine because they'll find him soon, and in a few days he’ll be okay. At least, physically. It's the emotional wounds that never heal. As much as running away with him sounds like the perfect option, I have to save my family. I love Devon with everything in me, but I wouldn’t be the person I am if I just let my family die. I love them, and I’m not that selfish. This was the only way.
“Dom, just drive,” I tell my cousin, my voice breaking. Dom flashes me an odd look before taking off.
“Are you okay?” he asks, staring straight ahead. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel.
“I just need to see Dad . . . then I’ll be fine,” I ramble. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to block out what just happened. What I just did. I close my eyes but instantly see his face, so I open them and stare out the window. Looks like I will never be able to close my eyes or sleep again without seeing his broken expression.
And I deserve nothing less.
“How’s Dad? Has he been looking for me? What’s happened since I was gone?” I ask him in a rush. I need to know what’s been going on—do they suspect anything about Devon’s family?
“We’ll talk when we get there,” he answers. “I let him know you called. What the hell happened with you? I thought you were in Ireland, though you never said anything about going and it seemed weird.”
“I didn’t leave, Dom. I was taken by the Andres. They’re planning this whole thing to take us down, all of us.”
His head snaps sharply to look at me. “I had no fucking idea, Leighton. Keith said you went off to Ireland.” I frown. Did he not hear what I just said? “He even sent your mom after you.”
“He did?” So he must have really thought I’d left. If I didn’t save myself, no help would have come anyway.
“You’re safe now,” Dom says, affection evident in his voice. “I wish I’d known, baby girl. I’d have come for you myself.”
I reach out with my hand and grasp his tightly in mine. We may not be biological siblings, but I’ve seen him as my brother my whole life. “I know,” I say. How was he supposed to know if my own dad had no idea?
I look out the window again, take a deep breath and then turn my head to my cousin. When I do, he glances at me, smiling. “Watch out!” I yell, grabbing for the steering wheel and swerving sharply off the road to avoid two cars parked across the street. The car stops almost immediately in a shallow ditch just off the side of the road.
“Are you okay?” Dom asks.
I nod, checking myself over. “Who the hell is that?”
My eyes widen when I see two armed men dressed in all-black approach the car, and open the door. I even recognize one of them as our own man. Dom steps outside and dusts himself off casually, giving me a once over as they grab me and make me stand, binding my wrists and covering my head with a black bag.
“What took you guys so long?” I hear Dom ask. After a moment of silence, he says, “Never mind, let’s just go before someone sees us.”
* * * *
“I didn’t want to have to hurt you, Leighton,” he says, his voice sounding honest. “I thought you’d be taken care of by now, and I wouldn’t have to.”
I sag deeper into the chair, chastising myself over and over again for fucking up so bad. I shot the love of my love for my blood, my family. To protect them. And yet here I am: handcuffed to a chair by my own cousin in some dingy storage room that smells like fish. I have no idea where we are.
This whole thing is one huge mess, and I’m right in the center of it. I shot Devon, and now I’m going to die at the hands of someone who shares the same last name as me. Fate and karma have banded together to make me their bitch. There’s no other explanation.
I laugh humorously at the thought, earning me an odd look from Dom, like I’m the crazy person here. He keeps trying to talk to me; it’s like he just enjoys the sound of his own voice. I don’t really care what he has to say because he is dead to me. If I get a chance to get out of here, I’ll make sure he pays for this.
We took him in as our own. I saw him as my brother.
The door opens and George walks in. I’m not surprised one bit. However when Stevie walks in, followed by that D
evon’s sleazy friend, Danny, smirking at me, my mouth gapes open in shock.
“And the plot thickens,” I whisper under my breath, my eyes not leaving Danny’s bulging ones. What exactly is going on here?
“Surprised to see me?” Stevie taunts. I school my expression, and turn my eyes to Dom, who is watching me closely, a thoughtful look on his face. I thought my cousin was smarter than this. Allying yourself with traitors clearly isn’t the smartest move. I can sense a desperation about him that confuses me. I’m obviously just a pawn in this game, a weapon to use against my father.
“If you’re going to kill me can you get it over with? I’ve had enough of death threats with no delivery as of late,” I sneer at my cousin. I remember saying similar words to Devon, but I never thought he would actually go through with it. This time, I’m not so confident.
“I’d love to have a little fun with her,” Danny says, his leering eyes making me cringe. “What a waste.” He gives my body a once over.
“You’ll definitely have to kill me first before that happens,” I mutter, my pulse racing.
Danny’s hands clench into fists, but Stevie just laughs. “It’s a possibility,” he says.
Sick bastard. I turn to Dom, who is sending a dangerous look Stevie’s way. He apparently doesn’t appreciate Stevie’s comment. So death is okay, but rape is out. Good to know. I can feel someone watching me so I turn to see George staring at me. I narrow my eyes at him. I don’t drop his gaze, not backing down.
He swallows nervously before he opens his mouth. “Why didn’t Devon kill you?” he finally asks, a curious glint entering his eyes. Stevie grins cruelly, and is about to answer when his phone rings. He walks out, his loud obnoxious voice booming on the other side of the door.
“Can I have some water?” I ask my cousin, smacking together my parched lips. Dom gestures to Danny, who leaves the room and returns with an iced bottle of water. Dom takes it from Danny and opens the lid, handing it over to me. I reach out with my free hand, licking my dry lips before taking a sip. I tilt my head back and swallow a mouthful before placing the bottle on the ground next to the chair leg.