Page 58 of My Wife

He did all of this while Tommy watched, his expression hungry, his cock already twitching again.

He wanted to fuck me. Since I took Tommy back, I learned that he can go as many times as I could take him. One was never enough for him, and I always got the impression that he was making up for lost time.

Now I know better. Now I know that he was doing his best to catch up to the number of timesClayfucked me so that, by the time they agreed to share me, they’d be even—and I’d be so addicted to both of them, I’d go along with this madness.

He stroked himself, almost whimpering as Clay tasted the combination of all three of us he forced onto my lips. But he didn’t move. As much as he obviously wanted to stick his dick back inside of me, he waited to see what Clay wanted to do first.

And what Clay wanted to do was carry me bridal-style to the bathroom where the three of us had a very cramped shower in the shower stall. Once we were clean and I felt semi-human again, he dressed me while Tommy changed the sheets on our bed so that, when he guided us to lay down in our spots, there was no mess.

Clay fell asleep first. Tommy murmured all of the things that he was looking forward to doing now that we were going to be a trio. We’d have to leave Gullhaven, of course. The whole fucking world still thinks Clayton Rivers is dead, and with Clay funneling money into an LLC that Tommy had access to, it was better that they did. I half-listened to him, waiting for the post-nut clarity to fade to post-nut exhaustion. Tommy cuddled closer, falling asleep, while I refused to.

Their breathing is even. Both of the guys areoutout. I’m still super careful as I unthread Tommy’s fingers from my hair. It takes a few seconds to remove his hand from my hips, listening intently for any change in his breathing. When he doesn’t react, I focus on disentangling myself from Clay’s tight hold.

That takes longer, but I’m determined. Before, I was too stunned by the events of the night to fight back. I tried, even drew a little of Clay’s blood, but he was right. If I wanted to kill him, I could’ve.

That’s not what I want. I’m confused. Hurt. Feeling betrayed. I’m also irrationally happy that my husband seemed to return from the dead, even if he came back just in time for Halloween as a Michael Myers-Jason wannabe.

I mean, Icouldkill them. As I slip off the bottom side of the bed, the two completely unaware that I’m almost gone, I know that both Tommy and Clay have their weapons in this cabin. Chase’s gun is useless now, but anyone can kill if they put their minds to it. Having a large knife like Clay’s or even a switchblade like Tommy’s will make it so damn easy.

But I don’t want to. So, instead, I pull on the first sleep shirt I can find, slip my feet into a pair of sneakers, then grab my phone and disappear into the night.

NINETEEN

SACRIFICE

When I hear the telltale sounds of heavy footsteps crackling against the dried up leaves in the forest, I glance at my phone.

It takes a good half an hour to reach Halo Lake if you’re walking at a quick pace. Cut that in half if you’re jogging. Based on how long I’ve been sitting at the water’s edge, watching it shimmer in the moonlight, whoever is out there must’ve hauled ass the whole way here and only slowed his run to a speed-walk as he approached the lake.

I can’t tell from the steps who is out there, though I’m pretty sure it’s only one man. Less than a minute later, when Clay pops his head out of the woods before stalking the rest of the way toward me, I give myself an imaginary pat on the back.

If I’d had to bet, I would’ve put money down that Clay would figure out I was here first.

And maybe that’s why I came here to have this confrontation. Tommy said that we needed to take this trip to Halo Island to build new memories, to forget the bad ones that haunted me my entire life. Naively, I thought he was just talking about our weekend getaway. I know better now, that these two men expectmy entire life to change after this most recent time on the island. One way or another, they’re right.

“Cyn,” he says, the relief obvious. “I woke up and you were gone. No, baby. We’re gone with that shit. There’s no more walking away. You understand me?”

I don’t answer him. Instead, I trail my finger through the mud at the edge of the water, wordlessly inviting him closer.

He takes my silence as my agreement. That’s fine. By the time morning rolls around in a handful of hours, one thing’s for sure: my husband will know exactly what I understand about all of this.

Clay’s fully dressed again. From his black hooded sweatshirt to his black jeans, his black boots, and the knife at his waist… the only thing that’s missing is the mask from before. I guess, now that the truth is out—and there’s no one left on the island who can identify him—he doesn’t need it.

My gaze flickers to his knife in its sheath. He shouldn’t need that, either, but he brought it.

Interesting. Very, very interesting.

Clay sits down next to me, so close that our hips are touching. “You scared me, Cyn. I get it. I always knew where you were, even when I had to play dead. This was the first time I didn’t. You scared me fucking shitless, babe. That’s all. Don’t do that.”

Again, I stay quiet, staring at the water.

He clears his throat. “You told me once that I didn’t know what it was like to watch someone die.” His gaze slides my way. “To take a life.”

I did. It was in a fit of anger when Clay was treating me like I was fragile. Ihatethat. I like to be pampered, but also respected. If I had to, I’d remind him that I’m not as weak as he thought I was. If anyone knew that, it should’ve been him, and whenever he forgot, I proved it.

“I know.”

He fingers the handle of his knife. “Now I’ve slaughtered four. Now Idoknow.”

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