Page 92 of Bozo

It’s been two days since I was taken by Mike. I’m heartbroken that my friend would do that to me, but I’m glad he can’t hurt me anymore. I hate that he was so deceptive, that he was able to hide who he truly was. I’ve learned a lot about him over the past two days. Both he and his father were monsters. They trafficked women, drugs, and guns. They had plans on blackmailing as many officials as possible and using them to do inhumane things.

I'm back in Connor's room at the clubhouse, my body aching and my mind reeling. Connor hasn't left my side since they rescued me, his protective instincts in overdrive. I love that he’s no longer hiding how he feels. I feel even more connected to him than before.

"Grá," he says softly, pulling me from my thoughts. "You need to eat something."

I look at the untouched plate of food on the nightstand and feel my stomach turn. "I'm not hungry," I mutter.

Connor sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know you're hurting, Sunshine. But you need to keep your strength up."

I meet his eyes, seeing the worry and anger in them. "How could I have been so blind?" I whisper, feeling tears well up. "He was my friend, Connor. I trusted him."

Connor's jaw clenches, and I can see him struggling to control his rage. "None of this is your fault, Grá. Mike fooled everyone, not just you."

I nod, but the guilt still gnaws at me. "What's going to happen now?"

"We’re going to live happy," Connor says, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Nothing else is going to happen.”

God, I love this man. “Love you,” I breathe, needing to tell him.

I watch as his eyes dilate. “Never doubt it, Sunshine, it’s only ever been you.”

My heart races at his words. This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and it’s come true. Connor loves me and I love him.

His lips slant against mine and my blood heats. God, I need him. Connor's kiss deepens, and I feel the familiar heat building between us. His hands roam my body. As his fingers brush against a tender spot on my ribs, I wince involuntarily. Connor immediately pulls back, his eyes clouding with concern and barely concealed fury.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

I shake my head, reaching for him. "You didn't. It's just... I'm still a bit sore."

Connor's expression darkens. "I should have killed him slower," he growls, and I know he's thinking about Mike.

A shiver runs through me, and not entirely from fear. Part of me is horrified at the casual way he speaks of murder, but another part—a part I'm not entirely comfortable acknowledging—loves his protectiveness.

"It's over now," I say, as much to convince myself as him. "He can't hurt anyone else."

Connor nods, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. "I won't let anyone hurt you again, Grá. I swear it."

I believe him. After everything we've been through, I know Connor would move Heaven and Earth to keep me safe.

“Please, Connor,” I whimper as he watches me. “I need you.”

I watch the slow grin form on his face, and his eyes darken with desire as he looks at me. "Are you sure, Sunshine? I don't want to hurt you."

I nod, pulling him closer. "I'm sure. I need to feel you, to know this is real."

He searches my face for a moment, then leans in to capture my lips in a searing kiss. His touch is gentle, mindful of my injuries, but I can feel him holding back.

I moan softly as his hands roam my body, carefully avoiding the tender spots. My own hands find their way under his shirt, tracing his muscular back.

Connor breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged. "Tell me if it's too much," he says, his voice husky with desire.

"I will," I promise, already missing the feel of his lips on mine.

He slowly peels off my shirt, his eyes roaming over my exposed skin. I see a flash of anger as he takes in the bruises marring my flesh, but it's quickly replaced by a look of such tender love that it makes my heart ache.

Connor's touch is soft and gentle as he traces the outline of my body, his calloused fingers leaving trails of fire on my skin. He leans down, pressing soft kisses to each bruise, each mark left by Mike's cruelty. It's as if he's trying to erase the pain with his love.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my skin. "So strong, Grá."

---