I stand next to my bed, holding Cassandra against my chest.
She fell back asleep in the twelve seconds it took me to get from the couch to here, and I don’t want to set her down. I don’t want to lose the weight of her in my arms.
Having her this close…
Heat simmers through my veins, and I hold her tighter.
In response, Cassandra lets out a sigh that sounds so content I feel it in my bones.
Just set her down. You can climb into bed and have her back in your arms in moments.
Accepting that I have to, I lower her to the mattress.
Cassandra makes a soft sound, then rolls onto her side.
Her hands grope at nothing, so I grab my comforter—which I’d flipped back before picking her up—and tuck it around her shoulders.
Her fingers drag the fabric up to her face, pressing it against her mouth.
Then she settles.
And she looks so right, so at home, curled up in my bed.
It’s the perfect sort of torture. Because now I know what it could be like.
Just like knowing what her mouth tastes like. Or knowing how much heat radiates from her hot little pussy when she’s worked up.
Now I know the sight of her under my blankets.
I know it, and I’ll never be able to forget it.
My heart squeezes, and I do the only reasonable thing I can. I take a photo of her with my phone, strip down to my boxer briefs, turn off the lamp, and climb into bed behind her.
I don’t bother pretending, don’t bother waiting. I move straight to her and press my front against her back, spooning her body with mine.
Cassandra lets out a deep exhale, melting into me.
The pressure in my chest intensifies.
What is it about her?
I’ve been with women. Lots of women. Some of them have been stunning. Some sweet. Some probably had the potential to be great partners. But I wasn’t interested. It never even crossed my mind to bend my concrete boundaries or to consider retirement.
Retirement.
I circle my arm around Cassandra’s waist, my forearm against her stomach and my hand tucking back between her soft body and the mattress.
I tuck my other arm under the pillow.
This feels so right.
I let my eyes close and think of the word again. Retirement.
I don’t think I’ll ever completely retire. You don’t really leave this life, not with your heart still beating.
And I won’t lie and pretend I hate it. Won’t pretend something deep inside me doesn’t love it. Doesn’t revel in the violence. But I don’t need to do every hit Karmine sends my way. She has plenty of girls who could do what I do. I’ve been doing it for so long—searching for justice and forgiveness, for so fucking long—it’s just become what is.
But now…
I sigh.
Right now, nothing has changed. People are still after me. They might always be after me. And until I can guarantee the safety of those around me, nothing will change.
I can’t keep her.
She’s not mine.
Anger claws at the base of my skull, wishing things were different.
Wishing I was different.
Only tonight, I try to convince myself as I press my nose against her hair.
Only for tonight.
