Page 95 of Serpent King's Revenge

Abby turned her back to me and stepped into the shower. The sound of the water hitting the tile floor brought me back to reality. I glanced at her silhouette behind the frosted glass, then peeled off the rest of my clothes. I took a deep breath—it was time to wash away the grime of the day.

When I joined her, the shower was already steamy, the air thick with heat. Abby didn't say anything, just moved to give me space under the spray. The water was hot, almost too hot, but I didn't move to change it. Abby's back was turned to me as she rinsed her hair, and I stood there, letting the stream wash over me, trying to rinse off more than just dirt.

"Abby," I said, my voice barely above the sound of the falling water. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been all over the place, and I…I'm scared." The words felt like boulders rolling off my tongue, heavy with truth. "For Lily, for Knuckles. For you and our kid. I wasn't scared before, but now I am, and I hate it."

Abby turned off the water and faced me, droplets streaming down her face. She reached up, her hand cool against my wet skin, and touched my cheek. Her eyes locked onto mine, fierce and unyielding. "Nathan, you can't be brave if you've never been scared. This is what it means to be brave: being scared and facing it anyway."

Her words hit me hard, like a punch to the gut, but in a good way. They knocked some sense back into me. It was raw, real, and something I needed to hear. I nodded, not trusting my voice, because she was right.

Fear was part of the game now, and it was time I learned to play by these new rules.

“Now…” she paused. “Wash your hair, scrub down, then I’m going to shave off that goatee. It doesn’t suit you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You really think fashion matters right now?’

She shrugged. “Tonight’s a special occasion. I want you looking your best when you kill your father.”

Water shut off, and we stepped out of the shower. I kept it all business, no lingering glances or touches, despite every part of me wanting otherwise. I unlocked the drawer by the sink and passed Abby the straight razor and cream. "Here," I said, voice rough.

"Sit," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. So I did, resting on the closed toilet lid, a towel thrown over my lap to catch any stray drops of water.

Abby straddled me, still completely naked, her knees pressing into my sides. She worked the shaving cream onto my face, her fingers cool and efficient. With my head tilted back, I saw only the ceiling and the edge of her jawline.

She picked up the straight razor, the metal catching light as she opened it. "Funny," she said, her voice steady as she brought the blade toward my skin.

"What?" I asked.

"The first week I was here, you punished me for having a shiv. Now you're handing me a knife and asking me to put it to your throat."

I laughed and she clicked her tongue.

“Stop laughing or my hand might slip,” she said.

So I stayed still…listened. Looked at the ceiling, cleared my mind. I wanted to talk, to apologize, to tell her all the things I’d thought of when I was in prison—but I couldn’t articulate it.

I had to just sit with it.

“You know…” she said, talking to fill the silence. “I understand we’re staying in the business, but I think I’d like a house without a kill room when we move in together officially.”

I didn’t say anything; couldn’t even laugh. The razor glided across my chin.

“Maybe a nice place north of the city, up by the redwoods. To remind us of when I held a gun to my head and you proposed.”

Jesus, she was going to make me laugh. It was almost like she was trying.

“Moments like this just make me nostalgic,” she said. “And…done.”

She leaned over to grab a wet washcloth from the sink, then she set to work smoothing the shaving cream away from my face. Still straddling me—still very, very much naked—she took my face in her hands and turned it side to side, checking out her handiwork.

“I don’t trust myself to give you a good haircut, otherwise I would do that too,” she murmured. “I guess that will just have to wait until after the coup.”

I snorted, rested my hands on her thighs. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

She smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

I took her chin between my fingers, pulled her in…pressed my lips to hers. Now wasn’t the time, but I knew this time might be our last.

So I had to have her.

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