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“No,” I say. “I don’t care about her, or you, or if you’re lying through your teeth. I could matter to you, or the whole town, or no one, and it wouldn’t make a difference. I don’t matter to me.”
“Then let me breathe for you until you remember how. Because I’m not going anywhere, Harper.”
I came back, rose like a fucking phoenix from the ashes of the decimated landscape of my soul.
I liked being claimed by him. It made me feel protected and important and powerful and cherished. Especially when we were fucking. I didn’t want to be called a slut, but when he called me his slut… Nothing made me cum harder. I was a slut for him, and it was hot as hell.
“He’s been sucked into your orbit,” he says. “You were a passing sun whose gravitational pull was strong enough to pull him out of his solar system and into yours. Now you’re stuck with him. He can’t leave you alone. But I think you know that, Jailbird. I think you knew all along that men like Royal don’t love twice.”
“No,” I say. “Royal hates me.” “Maybe,” Baron says. “But it’s the kind of hate that makes a man crazy, that makes him kill a man for hurting you, bail you out of jail at three in the morning even though he’s the one who got you thrown in, haunt the streets at night looking for your ghost when you’re dead.”
“You’ll keep orbiting each other, your own little solar system with only two planets, until you stop fighting it,” Baron says. “The longer you resist it, the more damage you’ll do. Both of you.”
“Stay with me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here. Look in my eyes. Don’t go away.”
“Thank you,” he whispers, his breath warm on my wet skin. In that one breath, one heartbeat, the space between heartbeats where life is measured and decided, I’m weightless. I’m lost and I’m found, I’m destroyed and renewed, I’m insignificant and infinite. I am his, and I am free.
