Page 181 of Unwrapping Deviance

Mira settles against my side. Her head finds my shoulder while she holds Daniel’s fingers threaded through hers in her lap. I brush a kiss to the top of her head, and marvel at how drastically my life has changed in a single weekend and regretting nothing.

CHAPTER FORTY

MIRA

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Everything hurts.

Waking up the morning after taking Daniel and Christian at the same time doesn’t come close to the raw agony crippling every inch of my body as I stand naked in front of the bathroom mirror.

I look like shit.

I look like I went several rounds withMohammed Aliand lost. My entire face is swollen, discolored and throbs like I had reconstructive surgery. My jaw will barely open. My eye with the stitches is swollen nearly shut. My nose has doubled in size and pangs when I touch it.

That’s not including the fact that I can’t move my shoulder. Dr. Hammell told me not to do anything strenuous so of course, first chance I got, I fucked my boys.

No regret there.

I needed it. I needed to feel them and have their smells cover the ones that refused to leave me. I needed to know they weren’t some fever dream where I might wake up to find Dirk still on top of me in that tomb with those poor girls.

But my attempts only intensified the burning pulse at my shoulder. It renewed the dull thrum at my ribcage where the fist sized bruise has begun to yellow out at the edges.

At least that means it’s healing,I think faintly, moving away to gather up my toiletries.

I never want to come back to Jefferson. I don’t even want to hear the name. This place is evil to its core and I wish nothing good for it or the people like Lucy and her brothers.

Daniel told me about Jameson, the Viking from the hardware store. Told me they found me because of him. He’s apparently theJaywho called. The asshole who hung up on me. I guess, maybe I’m supposed to be grateful he had a change of heart and did the right thing, but how had he not known? How could you live and grow up with three —three!— serial murderers and rapists, and deranged assholes and not know something was off?

He probably did but ignored it. He probably didn’t want to know.

I don’t care.

Whatever his excuses are, his family is the reason Daniel and Christian lost their home and I nearly got killed. I have no sympathies.

Daniel is sitting on the edge of the bed when I emerge from the shower, dressed and feeling mildly alive. I feel his dark eyes roam over me, taking in my faded jeans, light, fluffy sweater in pale purple. It’s not really cold enough for it, but I hate the tight jawed expression the boys get when they see the bruises up my arms. Like they’re somehow personally responsible for what happened.

“Hey baby,” he murmurs, sending the butterflies in my belly crazy.

“Hi Daddy,” I tease back, going to him and letting him capture my waist and draw me into the V between his knees.

He kisses me. Softly. Like I might break. Like he thinks he might hurt me. And he pulls away when I try to press.

I bite back my frustration, because I know why he’s being careful. I understand he’s giving me time and room to heal. I know — somewhere deep,deepat the back of my brain — I’mtoo hurt and tender to handle the things I want him to do, but ... goddamn it! I want it.

“How are you today?”

Better.

I didn’t have any nightmares last night. I expected at least one. Maybe I was too tired, but I think it’s because they gave me no room to have one. Both men had anchored themselves to me, arms and legs twisted so tight, I could scarcely breathe nevermind move.

I want that every night for the rest of my life.

Aside from the aches, I felt moderately like myself.

“Honestly, I’m okay. Sore, but nothing that won’t heal.”

His thumb dips into the hollow of my cheek and I feel myself grin.

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