London’s fingers move to my shoulders. “Okay.”
“We need to keep acting normal.” I draw back, pull down my pants, and step out of them. “We have to put on the best damn show of our lives.”
London shimmies out of her sweatpants. “Okay.”
I pull her to me and bury my face in her hair. “Fuck. I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this, but I’m going to do what I can.”
London melts against me and sighs. “It’s not your fault.”
“We might have to run.” I withdraw to look at her, frame her face in my hands, and brush my lips against hers. “Your parents, too.”
London nods and pulls me in for another kiss. “We’ll figure it out.”
I shiver when she pulls down my boxers and steps back, running her fingers lightly along my back. She does a full circle before she stops in front of me. Slowly, and without taking her eyes off me, she hooks her thumbs through my underwear and pulls it down.
This time, when she reaches for me, I growl.
I cup the back of her neck and pull her so she’s flush against me, and there isn’t an inch of space between us. In silence, we move backward until we reach the bed, and we fall together.
When London climbs on top of me, I grip her hips and send up a silent prayer.
This is not how your story ends. Do not let this be your legacy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
London
“I’ll be careful,” I say as Mason sits behind his desk, flipping through some papers. His eyes are bloodshot and have dark circles under them, and he hasn’t looked up once. “I just need to clear my head.”
“Don’t stay too long,” Mason replies in a voice thick with exhaustion. “Katia will go with you.”
I lean over the desk and wait for him to look at me. “Is there anything I can do?”
He continues to flip through the papers, a furrow appearing between his brows.
“Mason?”
Mason glances up, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Then, he blinks, slowly, and pushes his chair back.
I’m sorry, Mason. I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything else to make this better.
I have no idea if either of us will survive long enough for him to forgive me, but I have to believe we will.
I refuse to believe this was all for nothing.
As he draws me to him and wraps his arms around me, the lingering doubt and uncertainty I’d been pushing back over the past few days rise within me.
I don’t want it to end like this. How can I, knowing what he has to face?
Because his chances of beating them are better if he doesn’t have to worry about you and the baby. It’s better this way.
Mason’s body shudders, and I grip him tighter.
Mason’s eyes move over me, and I offer him a small smile. He presses his mouth to my forehead.
I want to stay in his arms and bottle up his scent.
I want to rewind the clock.