Page 163 of Petite Fleur

I know I don't need to worry about their investigation; I can justify or bullshit my way out of anything they may find.

But just to be safe, I scrubbed the baseball bat clean and stuck it in the closet with what looks like an entire collection of them from Sean playing baseball.

I also left their phones open and unlocked, letting the cops see their text messages that admit to the things they've done and the victims they've assaulted.

I know the cops will find all of this and assume that it was a former victim of theirs or a family member of a victim getting revenge.

While I hate pinning my artwork on anyone else, they'll be cleared pretty quickly after their interrogation proves what we already know; they have no idea what happened here.

“Is there anything else you need from us tonight? My fiance is pregnant, and it’s getting a little late. I'd like to get her a bath and a few hours of rest.” I say calmly to the officers.

I even put my hand on Maeve's stomach and stroke her through her clothes.

This part isn't an act; I really am concerned about her; she's exhausted and in shock, but it also helps paint the picture that we're not psychotic.

I see the female officer even “awe” very quietly and know we've got them right where I want them.

“No, if you think of anything that may help us, please give me a call.” The officer says, handing me his business card.

I nod, reciprocating the gesture by handing him my card. “Same for us; if we can help in any way, please let us know.” I lie.

Maeve lets me get her in my car, squatting in front of her in the passenger seat. I stroke my knuckles lightly down her cheek. “How are you feeling?” I ask her calmly.

My girl nods, keeping her hands on her lap and her eyes on her hands.

That won’t do; I need to know how she’s feeling.

This is far beyond what happened with the guys. She didn’t just watch me torture them; she personally killed them. Not that I will ever remind her of that; no, I will take all the blame if it helps her. Or we can simply never speak about this again, whatever she needs.

I grip her chin gently and tilt her face until she has to look at me. “I need you to talk to me, ma petite fleur.” I say to her.

My girl breaks my heart with the look she gives me. “Am I going to get us sent to prison? I don’t want to go to prison.” She says quietly.

I pull Maeve into my chest, hugging my gorgeous girl, and smooth my hand through her hair, not even remembering or caring that there's blood on my hands from pretending to revive Sean.

On the plus side, it let me vent some of my frustrations.

I usually torture my subjects until I feel better, but Maeve took the reins on this one, so cracking Sean's sternum and caving in his chest will have to do for now.

“No, my love. We are not going to prison; I have it handled.” I promise her.

I feel her huff out a sigh, laying her head on my shoulder. I tighten my arms around her when she sighs, rubbing my handsalong her back to calm her down. “I’ve got us, ma fleur. We’re fine. I promise you, everything is fine.” I say quietly to her.

She nods against me but leaves her face tucked into my neck and her arms tightly around me.

"I want to go home.” She mumbles.

I’m grinning like a fool; my girl finally sees our home as home. By the way she’s clinging to me; I'm hoping she sees me as her home as well. "Marry me." I blurt out before I can stop myself.

I already know what answer I expect, but it doesn't hurt to ask.

"When?" She mumbles into my neck.

I bark out a laugh and kiss the side of her face. "Whenever you want." I promise her.

I'd drag her ass to Vegas right now if she'd let me. "I'm not busy tomorrow." She says quietly.

Fuck, I am so in love with her.

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