Page 164 of Petite Fleur

If I hadn't just fucked her senseless and bruised her ass in every shade of purple that exists, I'd fuck her the second we got home, but I know she needs a little recovery time.

Epilogue

Leon Aldon

Seven Years Later

I huff and glare at the piece of shit crying on my table.

Why do they always cry?

It's pathetic!

I ask a simple question, and instead of getting answers, I get a blubbering mess from what is supposed to be a grown man.

“Matthew, you need to explain yourself before things get worse for you.” I snap.

My patience is wearing thin. Maeve has been gone for a week, and it’s ruining my mood more than this man's pathetic crying and begging on my table.

“Please don’t kill me!” He cries.

I slam my hand down on the table, huffing in frustration yet again. “Shut up!” I yell, interrupting his pathetic crying. “Explain what happened with Emily. Now.” I say sternly.

Matthew goes on, babbling and crying, while explaining that he was leaving a bar when he saw Emily, my patient. He said she was so beautiful that he had to get to know her, so he approached her while she waited for a taxi.

He explains how he tried to get her to give him her number, but she tried to get away from him.

He actually sounded sorry as he cried and babbled on, but I know he’s not. I’ve read the police report, I’ve heard Emily’s perspective of things, and I’ve even overheard this asshole laughing about the whole event with his friends.

No, he's not sorry about hurting Emily. He's sorry that he's strapped to a table and is going to die.

He's sorry that several of his teeth are lying beside him and that Emily's name is carved into his stomach.

Matthew's storytelling is interrupted when I hear a knock at the door. I pull out my phone to check the camera, smiling when I see it’s my Maeve. I rush to open the door, wrapping Maeve in a tight hug the second the door is open. She even kicks the door shut behind us.

“I missed you!” She says happily.

I breathe in the beautiful scent of my girl, blueberries and lavender.

Fuck, I’ve missed her so fucking much for the last eight days. “I’ve missed you, ma fleur.” I say into her hair. I lift my girl up to my height, one hand around her waist, and the other I hold onto her hair.

She wraps her legs around my waist, clinging to me tightly. "I love you!" She says happily.

Fuck, I've missed that.

I missed hearing her voice in person; the phone doesn’t do her justice; it doesn’t portray how angelic she sounds. "I love you." I say back to her.

I move to sit on the stool in the room with Maeve in my lap since she refuses to unravel her legs from my waist. “Tell me about your trip, ma fleur.” I insist.

Matthew bursts out a violent sob, breaking my moment. "Do you mind? I haven't seen my wife in over a week, and you're being quite rude." I say with a huff.

God, some people’s kids…

“Anywho, tell me about your trip.” I repeat happily to my darling wife.

My girl doesn’t wait for Matthew to quiet down; she just happily starts explaining her trip.

She was in Maryland evaluating a business in hopes of being more sustainable. She explains that they still have a ways to go before she’s willing to certify them as a green company but that she won’t be making another visit; she’ll send one of her associates.

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