Page 111 of I Will Mend You

My pulse quickens. Amethyst is growing, changing, becoming stronger with each new revelation. Instead of hiding from unpleasant situations, she confronts them with courage.

“Fine,” I say and pull out my phone. “Consider it done.”

“Thank you.”

She pulls her hands away from my chest, and my heart sinks at the loss. As she places the diary on the nightstand and slips beneath the sheets, I’m left rooted to the spot, my desire for her still burning.

I rise off the mattress and send a message to the operative in charge of the holding cells, ordering him to release Dr. Saint—with a discreet tracker and a warning not to report her abduction to the police.

When I turn my attention back to the bed, she’s lying on her side, tucked into a ball. Her eyes are closed, and her curls spill out across the pillow. She looks so vulnerable that it hurts. I watch her for a moment, wondering if she’s terrified or simply exhausted from her first day out of the infirmary.

Moving toward the four-poster on bare feet, I slip onto the bed beside her, careful not to jostle the mattress. Its springs groan beneath my weight, but she remains still, her breath steady and even.

She shifts, her lashes fluttering. “Xero?”

“Yes, little ghost?”

“Come to bed. I won’t bite, unless you beg for it.” She rolls onto her back, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of vulnerability and fear. When I don’t make a move, she adds, “Hold me. Please.”

Not wanting her re-traumatized, I place a hand on her arm. She tenses, and I pause. When she relaxes, I slide my arm beneath her waist and pull her into my chest. I remain still, giving her a moment to settle into my presence, and she scoots backward, pressing our bodies flush. She’s warm, soft, andinviting. Desire pulses beneath the surface, but I force myself to focus on her comfort. The tension from before dissolves into nothingness as she tucks her head beneath my chin.

Her rapid heartbeat resounds through my chest. I don’t move, still wanting to give her time to adjust. As her heartbeat syncs with mine, her body relaxes, and my longing lingers as a smoldering ache, kept in check for her sake.

“Are you alright, little ghost?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Hug me tighter,” she murmurs.

I pull Amethyst closer, cradling her in my arms. Our bodies are pressed tightly, her ass flush against my hard cock. I’m almost certain the version of me she hallucinated at the asylum wasn’t fighting off a raging hard-on.

“Like this?” I ask, my voice tight.

Nodding, she exhales a long sigh, her muscles melting. The warmth of her body seeps into mine, providing the comfort that’s escaped me since she left. Relieved, I close my eyes and inhale her citrus and peach scent.

“Xero,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

I frown, my thoughts racing back through our last conversation. “About the shrink?”

She swallows hard, her fingers clutching the fabric of my sleeve. “About me. About what I did. Is this building up to a punishment?”

My heart squeezes. Betrayal is an integral part of her past. Even if she can’t remember the events of that summer, her brain must cling to the idea that she isn’t safe, especially with those she’s supposed to trust.

I tighten my hold around her waist and press a kiss to the back of her head. “Never. I only wish you had confronted me, but I understand why you didn’t.”

Breath shuddering, she clings to my arm as if afraid I might disappear. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t know what else to do.”

After all the information I’ve gathered on her past, I’ve become an expert on her deadly knee-jerk reactions. She’s blameless. It’s not even her fault. It’s her stepfather’s. And mine.

“Consider us even and focus on your healing,” I murmur into her damp curls. “The only punishment I’m planning is my father’s and anyone else who hurt you.”

Nodding, she exhales a trembling breath, her grip on my arm loosening. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything.”

As she drifts into sleep, I keep my arms around my little ghost, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. Today has been a breakthrough. Tomorrow might not be so bright, after she reads her mother’s diary. Whatever happens, however she reacts, I will help her through the fallout.

Hours later, an alert on my phone pulls me out of slumber. It’s an urgent message from Jynxson, saying that a truck has pulled up to Harlan Stills’s warehouse. He’s X-Cite Media’s content manager, the one who told us that was where Delta kept servers containing terabytes of illicit pornography, along with data on the members and every asshole who ever rented a snuff movie.

If we want to identify every bastard who directly or indirectly supported Father’s snuff empire, we need to extract those names now, while the information is still accessible.

After giving him permission to intercept, I ease out of bed, careful not to jostle my little ghost, and rush to the door. I wake up Isabel, telling her to watch Amethyst, and change into bullet proof armor.

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