She wasn’t going to stop until she had my name carved into her abdomen.
Which, on its own, would’ve been a good thing. The best.
The possessive side of me still wants that, even now, when I’m aware that anotherinch and?—
No, I’m not going to go there. Won’t entertain it, because it wouldn’t have happened.
Our love story wasn’t meant to end before it started.
She’s mine. No matter what, she’s mine.
That realization has been creeping into my consciousness for the past twenty-four hours. Throughout the time I’ve had her in my apartment.
What sealed it for good, though, was the sight of her blood. Of her unhinged obsession mirroring mine.
The shock hit so hard it cut through the haze in my head. My vision cleared, and I finally saw what Lilith had been trying to tell me all along.
She loves me, no matter what.
“To my storage unit.” I kiss her forehead before going back to watching her wound.
The bleeding has slowed, so it no longer seeps beneath her palm. She’s fine.
She’s fine.
She isfine.
“Why?” Her finger taps against my bare chest, pulling my attention back to her face. Her brow scrunches. “I already know your secret.”
“Yes, you do.”
The building’s security doesn’t. I sneak a glance up at the elevator’s camera before giving Lilith a meaningful look.
“Oh.” Her eyes widen, and she pinches her lips into a fine line that soon curves into a smile. “Sorry.”
God, she’s beautiful.
“I already told you, don’t apologize.” Despite cradling her to my chest, I feel like she’s miles away. I hug her tighter, reveling in her warmth. “I have medical equipment there. You need suturing, and the first-aid kit I have at home won’t cut it.”
“Of course.” She nods vehemently, her long locks grazing my arm. My cock jerks at the sensation. “Any doctor would have them stored close to home.”
The things she’s saying, though simple, are like a beacon in the dark. She does more than accept me.
Lilith is my partner in crime. A willing one.
“Exactly.” I stroke her waist with my thumb. “Any doctor.”
Ping.
The elevator announces our arrival at B1. In large strides, I eat up the distance to my storage unit. Once we’re there, I place Lilith carefully on the floor, make sure she’s standing on her own two feet, then reach for my sweatpants pocket.
“How did you get in, by the way?” I ask as I unlock the door. “The lock was supposed to be nearly impossible to pick.”
Her cheeks flush red. “I told you I’m not a good person, which is why?—”
“Careful.” The warning is a joke, but it also isn’t.
No one gets to talk about her like that. Herself included.