Hexed (Never After, #6)

by Emily McIntire

“But of course it was you. It’s always been you, hasn’t it?” I literally owe her my life

“All I care about is that you’re here now, with me. You’re mine, and I am so fucking yours, Venesa Andersen. Tell me you know that.”

“Don’t start something we don’t have time to finish, piccola sirena.” She grins. “What’s the matter, Lover Boy, can’t take a little tease?”

“You mean, does it hurt to know my best friend is having this whole-ass Romeo and Juliet affair and didn’t even bother to tell me? I had to find out from your cousin, who, by the way, is not handling it well.”

“I sent her. Pick out whatever you like, make the place your own. Erase your cousin and everything she’s ever touched.” I lift my brows, shocked he’s willing to get rid of what must be an exorbitantly expensive amount of furniture just to make sure I’m comfortable.

Honestly, I deserve it. I’m done with not putting myself first. And I know this thing with Enzo won’t last forever, but I’m sure as hell going to enjoy it while it does last.

“How many times do I have to tell you I own this city before you believe me?” I don’t know why that sentence turns me on, but it does. “That’s…incredibly attractive to me.”

“Thank you for this. It’s…it means a lot. I’m not sure how to thank you properly.” “You’re welcome, baby. You can thank me by spending as much as you can.”

It’s comfortable, and for the first time in forever, it feels like I have a place. A family. Like I’m home. It doesn’t have to do with blood—not really—and maybe that’s where I’ve always gotten it wrong. I’ve been searching for things in the wrong places.

“Just burned daylight.” “Burning daylight?” I ask, because what the hell does that mean. “You know…shooting the shit. Wasting the day away until night falls and the real fun can begin.”

“I love that you don’t wear underwear.” He’s right, I rarely do. It’s constricting, and I hate the way it feels. My girl needs to breathe.

“Sit on my face, baby. Suffocate me.”

I’ve never felt more attractive to someone than I do at this moment. And it’s…powerful.

Coming home to Venesa is an experience. She may not realize it yet, judging by how surprised she was when I had her refurbish the entire apartment, but she’s it for me.

Maybe it’s the honeymoon phase, and maybe it will wear off in the future, but whenever I look at her, whenever I think about her, I feel the same way I did when I was a kid, wishing I had true love.

Grabbing Venesa’s hand, I pull her up from the bed and move her to the mirror, because I want her to see us together, want her to watch what she looks like to me, and I want to see it on her face as she realizes how fucking perfect we are.

“Hands on the mirror, baby.”

“Look at you, greedy girl, sucking me in like you can’t get enough.”

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me. I’m so proud of you,” I whisper, because I know praise gets her off.

I wonder if she realizes she holds all the power here, that I would crawl on my knees to be wherever she is.

If I wasn’t sure before this moment that she was my queen, then this would confirm it. She’s poise and grace in the face of adversity. Polished on the outside. And it gives me a thrill to know she’s capable of being so bad at the flip of a switch.

The first real crack in my chest happens now. It aches like I’m bleeding out, a pulsing, throbbing monster that’s roaring inside my body and demolishing everything in its path, and it’s so overwhelming, I wonder if it’s possible to actually die of a broken heart.

In a different life…

“But she also saved you.” My stomach feels like an overturned ship in a storm.

Suddenly, with those words, everything in my life snaps into focus, and the only thing I can think of—the only thing that matters—is Venesa. And the only person who deserves any mercy is her

Her being dishonest doesn’t wash away the fingerprints she’s ingrained in my soul. Because life’s too short to not hold the ones you love close. So I’m going to find her, and then I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving her out loud, just like she deserves.

My spirit guides have a sick sense of humor, doling out retribution this way.

My mind races, trying to think of a way out of this. I can’t use my body. I can’t do anything except lie here at their mercy, so I have to use the only other weapon I have available. My voice.

I don’t want to go down without fighting for her. For us.

“I’m pissed at you. I’m so fucking angry I can feel it with every breath. But…I don’t think I could ever hate you. Not when I love you so goddamn much.”

“You’re crying,” I murmur. “Seems you bring it out in me.”

I know she’s grieving, and so am I, honestly, but right now, I just need to feel her here with me. There’s nothing like death to make you want to live.

“Yeah, well, what about our situation isn’t fucked right now?” He grins over at me. “When we’re done with this, I’m going to fuck you.” A laugh breaks out of me. “You’re so romantic.”

“We haven’t had our makeup sex.” He pouts. “I’m still pissed. I plan to take it out on every part of your body.”

What’s more important to a man like my uncle: his daughter or his power?

“I’m doing this for us,” he tells me. “So we can finish this and I can love you out loud. In this life.”

My hand presses against the glass of my aquarium, my heart full as I watch my babies, Jack and Flora. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much, pookies. Mommy won’t leave you for so long again.”

When I snap my lids open again, I’m hyperfocused on one thing and one thing only: taking what’s mine.

“Showtime, my dear, sweet Cousin. Make sure to sell it, and remember… it’s all in the body language, honey.”

“What is with men and always interfering? I had this handled.”

“Don’t waste your energy,” I coo. “That injection? It was a special mix I made just for you. A blend of arsenic and lead. You know what that causes? Vocal paralysis.”

What can I say? Spite fuels me.

“And honestly, consider this a mercy. You may not have your voice, and I’m definitely not giving you any of the family fortune. But you still have your…looks.” I lean in close. “That pretty face of yours should get you far.”

Being in a relationship is new for me—for both of us, actually—and communication is something we were both taught to use as a weapon instead of as a foundation for something solid.

And now Enzo and I can live happily ever after.

And now we’re here, at the boardwalk, and I’m determined to make her birthday a good memory again, just like it was when she was little.

“You’re supposed to hate everything I hate.” She pouts. “I thought that was a perk of being in a relationship.” “I could never hate the day you were brought into the world, baby,” I reply.

The Sea Witch, they call her.

The second Venesa commented that her birthday fell on the full moon this year, I knew it was my moment. I remember her talking about how she’d only get married under one. Something about it representing balance and harmony or some froufrou shit.

One thing I’ve learned is that life is never certain. Someone can spend their entire life searching for success, for happiness. Waste countless hours away from people they love, constantly searching for some unattainable thing that, in the end, won’t really matter. And then in one second—or in my case, one look—everything can change.