Page 121 of Moth to a Flame

I’m sitting next to the woman I’ve sworn to protect, and I’m failing because getting into Brinestone isn’t a viable option.

Lester is still breathing.

This is how I die. Desperate to kill someone so badly that I can’t take it. Any minute now, I’ll bash my head against the nearest wall until this need for revenge spills out of me.

“I took the day off. Spending quality time with my woman. I’m okay, really.” There’s no way my smile would look genuine. I settle for a neutral expression instead. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“He’s fine.” Regan pats my hand. “Perfectly fine, Willie. Thank you for asking.”

In my deranged state, I still manage to notice that her nails need painting. It was my turn to do hers before Willie showed up with his phone, asking to buy more disc space for his grandkids’ videos and photos since he refuses to hear about the cloud.

I notice another thing. The slight tremble in her hand.

Fuck, if only I had it in me to be a fucker and yell at him to leave. To let her sit here and do nothing as I spoil and hug her. Comfort her.

Unfortunately, that’s not possible. I like him, and I won’t ever fuck with Regan’s business. If someone hears a raging asshole has taken residence here, her customers would go elsewhere.

“Okay.”

While she rings his order of a new pair of headphones on top of his new memory card, my phone vibrates with a text message.

Beverly:You and your future wife have plans for tonight?

“Here’s your change, Willie.” Regan’s sweet, hushed voice is like a knife to my heart. She’s scared and yet she’s trying so hard.

My free hand clenches into a fist. I’d love nothing more than to shove it down Lester’s throat. Let him choke on my rage.

Since I can’t do that—yet—I text Beverly back, using this opportunity to distract myself. Calm myself down. Regan deserves it, the better version of me.

For her, I try. I even crack a stupid joke.

Me:Texting at work? What would your boss say about that?

Beverly:My boss is playing hooky. Don’t think he cares.

Oh, he cares. He cares too much, just not about work. About the woman behind the register with her long locks draped over her back. The woman who wears one of my black T-shirts because she said it makes her feel safe and she needed it today.

I sneak a glance at her, at how the shirt falls to her mid-thigh. How hot her legs look in the black jeans she has on.

Fuck yeah, I care.

“See you around, Viking.”

Regan’s texting while Willie waves at me from the door. “Have a good one, Willie.”

It’s just us in the store. I don’t go over to her. Not right away. I look at her. Imagine her pussy locked in the chastity belt, knowing that I have the key to it.

I’m her man. The one to protect her. The one to own her.

She belongs to me.

The rage subsides significantly. Whatever happens today, I’ll be there for her.

Tomorrow, our lives can start for real.

Either that, or the countdown will start all over again.

Fuck, I can already feel his intestines running through my fingers.

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