Page 245 of Mayhem and Minnie

I want her to love me more, want me more, need me more. I want her to only draw her next breath because I am by her side. And yes, I want her to choke if I’m not there.

I’m sick, aren’t I?

I sigh.

“Marlowe… You have to know some?—”

“You know what? Why don’t we make a pact,” I suddenly state.

Her brows bunch together in confusion. “A pact?”

“We won’t talk about Lucien ever again. I won’t bring him up. You won’t bring him up. It will be like he never existed.”

Yes, that’s a mighty idea. This way I can pretend she’s never looked at another man before—that I’m the only one for her.

“But—”

“We shouldn’t let him cause a rift between us, Minnie,” I continue.

“You’re right.” She sighs. “I’m not going to bring up the past anymore as long as you don’t.”

“Deal,” I say and give her my best smile.

She rolls her eyes at me, but slowly, she returns my smile.

We look at each other for a few seconds before we both burst into laughter.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t get to be jealous of other men,” I feel compelled to add. “That’s the fun type.”

“The fun type?” she repeats. “What does that even mean?”

“Well…” I give her a sheepish smile. “You’re the most beautiful woman all those men will ever see in their lives. But you’re mine. So it gives me pleasure to see them realize that you’re taken. It gives me even more pleasure to beat the shit out of them to make sure they understand that you’re taken.”

Her expression sobers up.

“When are you not thinking of murder?” she mumbles under her breath.

“It’s murder for you, darling. That’s what I call a special type of murder.” I wink at her.

“And not too long ago you wanted to murder me,” she fires back.

“I’m still considering that,” I murmur seductively as I lean into her.

“W-what?” she sputters. “You still want to murder me?”

I smile. “Because I know you’ll come back.”

I cup her cheek, stroking her lips with my thumb.

“Because you’ll always come back to me, right, Minnie?”

Her eyes flash at me, her features tense.

She gulps down hard.

“Right, Minnie?” I repeat.

“Right…” she whispers, suddenly averting her gaze.

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