Page 107 of The Masquerade: Room 2

“I can’t stand the thought of you being alone.”

“But you’re okay with me sleeping with someone else?”

“No,” I growl. “It was fucking devastating to contemplate. But I would do it if it’s the best thing for you.”

“You’re the best thing for me, Pierce. Only you. I’m happy to watch or be watched. I love it. But I don’t want another man to fuck me. I never will. It’s you, and as old-fashioned as I sound, that’s the way I want it to stay.”

My heart almost bursts out of my chest, my pulse racing. “Are you certain I’m enough for you?”

“Pierce Harrison, I love you more than life itself. You are enough. You always have been and always will be. I love you.”

“How soon can we get married?”

“The faster, the better for me.”

I capture her mouth with a kiss, unwilling to relinquish her love, whether I deserve it or not. “Let’s go home, little one.”

“Yes, Daddy. Take me home.”

Chapter 22

FREYA

Pierce has been thrashing around in his sleep for the past few nights. Always the same nightmare from what I can tell, but tonight is different. The words he’s calling out—this is a new dream. My attempts to wake him aren’t working, and with a court appearance tomorrow, I’m afraid he’s locked in his past, and there’s nothing I can do for him.

“Pierce, it’s me, Freya. You’re having a bad dream. Wake up, Daddy. I’m here.” He continues to plead for forgiveness, and it breaks my heart.

“No, Daddy. Please. I’ll be good.” Tears fall from the corners of his eyes, and I can’t hold back my own. It’s painful to watch. With tears streaming down my face, I beg him to wake up.

“Please, Pierce. Come back to me. Wake up.”

“I won’t let you hurt her anymore.” He curls into the fetal position. “I won’t let you hurt us, Daddy. You broke me. You broke Mommy.”

I wrap my arms around him, pressing my front to his back, giving him whatever strength I can at this moment.

“No one loves me, Daddy. Not you, not Mommy. I’m alone.”

I brush his sweat-soaked blond hair off his forehead, pressing my lips to his cheek. “I love you. Wake up, Pierce.”

“I’m alone. You’ve hurt me enough, Daddy. Enough,” he whispers, and it makes my soul ache for him.

“Wake up,” I plead through my tears. I want so desperately to help him, but he won’t let me.

He startles in my embrace, fighting against my touch. “Freya?”

“Yes,” I say, stroking his arm. “It’s me. I’m here. You’re not alone.” I can feel his rapid pulse like the wings of a hummingbird.

He turns in my arms, facing me as tears spill from his darkened gaze. Haunted.

“The last thing my father did on this earth was throw me across the room so hard I needed brain surgery for a bleed.”

I stay stock-still. Pierce has never opened up to me about his past.

“I was four years old, and he hated me with such vitriol that I knew it was because of me. Something I did. I was unlovable.”

“You are very loveable, Pierce.” I press my lips to his shoulder.

“What dad hates his own kid? I had this little ambulance truck that made the coolest sound. I loved it. I knew I wanted to be a doctor even back then. He smashed it to pieces before he kicked me in the stomach and lifted me above his head. Threw me so hard against the wall everything went black.”

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