Page 132 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

“You…know?”

“I called them.” He said dryly, though the words—no. The words didn’t make sense. Was he sick? What was happening right now?

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You—” I didn’t understand. “I don’t understand,” I repeated aloud.

“They’re here to help,” he said simply.

“What?” I blinked. “But I thought—”

“I know,” he said gently, thumbs stroking soothingly over my skin as I stared down at him, shocked and confused. “I thought so too.”

“But—”

“You don’t have to take me anymore,” Prudence said carefully, that familiar muscle in his jaw ticking just the way I liked it. “They’re here now.”

“And...Violet?”

“For you.”

“I don’t…”

“For when I’m…” Oh. Oh. For…for when he was gone. He’d called in his sisters to…to what? Replace me? And Violet was here to pick up the broken pieces left behind when he was gone.

No.

No. No. No.

No-no-no-no.

“I’m taking you,” I grabbed his wrists, holding his hands in place as they continued to cup my cheeks. “We had a deal.”

“I’m letting you out of the deal,” Prudence said carefully. He still was covered in the flowers I’d drawn all over him. His eyes were expressive, honest, stubborn. So full of life. So different from the first time I’d seen him what felt like a lifetime ago.

“No.” I shook my head. “No, Pru.”

“I’ll still uphold my end of the deal—”

“I don’t give a flying fuck.” My grip on his wrists grew tighter. I hated that we had an audience right now. I hated that this was happening at all. Why couldn’t he just stay? Why couldn’t I just—not care about him as much as I did? It would be so much easier to let him go if I didn’t love him. If every beat of my heart wasn’t tied to his.

His talisman felt like it weighed a thousand pounds where it lay against my now sluggish heartbeat.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the money—”

“What money?” Betty’s voice echoed behind us and I ignored it, in favor of glaring Prudence into submission.

“I don’t care anymore. About any of it.” Maybe he didn’t believe me. Maybe he thought I was too weak to do this—too weak to support him. Maybe because I’d lied to my family since we’d arrived, putting on a big fucking fake production as I fixed the mess I’d made behind the scenes—maybe he thought he couldn’t trust me.

Maybe he didn’t trust me because I’d never told him what actually happened.

Fine.

I’d tell him.

I’d tell them all.

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