Page 137 of Unbroken

And all I had to do was wait in the wings while Blakely made him confess every single one of his sins. It was a new, sick form of torture to listen to him condescend and make excuses. ButBlakely held her own. And she’d done everything she’d planned.

Her rage was beautiful. Watching her carve into his skin with precision was a powerful sight. She was the epitome of vengeful victory.

But that wasn’t to say everything was rainbow and sunshine now. Neither of us were naïve to think that retribution and his arrest, which we watched from the parking lot across the street, would undo the years of pain and torment. It was a start, though.

And every day, it looked like another weight was lifted on her shoulders.

Our kiss slowed, and Blakely pulled back. I chased her mouth, and she rewarded me with one last kiss between a laugh.

“We still have so much to organize,” she groaned, glancing around what would be her office once it was complete.

Although I was reluctant for my mom to move out, I was excited for the next step with Blakely. We’d met Sabrina, my mom’s new girlfriend, a week before, and I knew in the first minute that there was no point trying to convince her to stay.

My mom had been through so much, and she’d finally found love. She deserved to enjoy it. And it was my hangup anyway. They were my issues and mine alone that made me want to keep her close, because part of me worried what might happen if she wasn’t. But it was no way to live.

She was less than fifteen minutes away anyway.

“We’ll get it done,” I promised. “Maybe not before Monday, but we’ll at least get your desk set up.”

She nodded and sighed, letting her hands fall to my chest. “I forgot to tell you,” she began, and I tensed. Her voice was strained, and I held her tighter as she took another breath. “The attorney called. She said Jeffrey is still arguing for a lesser sentence. He won’t budge, and they’re worried that he’s holding out for a jury trial. That he’ll try to use what I did as part of his defense.”

Even behind bars, he was still trying to control the narrative. The district attorney refused to press charges against Blakely, especially since they couldn’t prove it was her that carved the word into his forearm.

And I was confident that would stick. Prosecuting the victim of such a heinous crime wouldn’t look good on them.

“They’ll come to an agreement,” I said. “He may wait until the last minute, but they’ll figure it out. This is just the last thing he has to hold over you, so he’s going to make it last as long as possible.”

“God, he’s such a dickface,” she mumbled angrily, and I rolled my lips to keep from laughing. “Not to mention my mom called today.”

More so than the news about Jeffrey, hearing that her mom had called was disconcerting.

“I don’t know why I picked up this time, but…she’s my mom, and I guess I was still hoping she’d have something supportive to say. She didn’t, but—” She waved and leaned back against the desk, folding her arms over her chest. She often became closed off when talking about her mom; she didn’t let her mom’s obvious disinterest and indifference affect her as much, but it still made an impact whether Blakely admitted it or not. “Anyway, she was upset because I hadn’t been answering her calls or responding to her texts, and she was even more frustrated that she couldn’t get ahold of the DA. She wants me to tell them that she will do whatever Jeffrey wants to keep this from going to trial, but…”

I ran a comforting hand down her arm, and she laced our fingers together. One day it would all be over, and I couldn’t fucking wait for that day. Every day further away from what took place in Jeffrey’s office was better. But she also spent a lot of her time preparing for the worst-case scenario. With all the unknowns still hanging over her head, I wasn’t surprised.

“What can I do?” I asked with little confidence that I could do anything that would make an impact.

With a tired smile, she stood once again and let her hands wander down my chest and settle on my waistband. “A distraction would be preferable. One that involves the seven-and-a-half-inch-long weapon hiding inside your pants.”

She didn’t waste any time palming said “weapon.” I began to laugh, but it died on a gasp when she wrapped her fingers around my rapidly hardening length.

“A weapon?” I managed to ask as I gripped her thighs and lifted her into my arms. She yelped in surprise but recovered quickly. I wouldn’t have minded fucking her on her desk, but it was covered in boxes of her belongings, and it would take too long to relocate all of them. Especially when I wanted to be inside her immediately.

She ran her nose along my jaw and peppered sensual, open-mouth kisses down my neck. “Yes, a weapon,” she murmured into my heated skin. “It can do some serious damage, but at least I enjoy every second.”

I dodged boxes as I strode through the room and down the hallway toward our bedroom. The setting sun illuminated the room in a soft glow, one that was gorgeously reflected on Blakely’s pale, smooth skin.

“Just enjoy?” I dropped her on the unmade bed, and she bounced with a giggle, crawling backward toward the pillows. Like a puppy, I followed until I was kneeling between her spread thighs. Grasping her hips, I kneaded the muscles under my palm and grazed her ass with the tips of my fingers.

She groaned and pushed my shirt higher, scraping her nails down my stomach in a way she knew drove me fucking crazy. “Not just enjoy, I misspoke,” she admitted on a breathy whisper. “I love it. Crave it. Dream about it. All those nightmares, somewhere along the way, they were replaced with you.”

Reaching up, I brushed my thumb over her cheek and stared down into her stone-gray eyes.

“I’d chase away those nightmares over and over again,” I promised, letting my sincerity permeate every single word. Sheheld my stare for a beat, and when I saw tears filling her eyes, I kissed her.

It was chaste and sweet. Filled with emotions and tenderness. But that didn’t last long. Not when I swept my tongue across the seam of her plump lips, and she eagerly opened for me. Making the most perfect, needy sounds.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” We broke apart only long enough for me to lean back and tug her flimsy athletic shorts down her long legs. Too damn eager to do much else, I pushed my joggers down only as far as I needed to.

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