Page 169 of Moth to a Flame

I’m not saying it to convince him of anything. I’m not overselling it.

I’m stating a simple fact, and he believes it.

“And you’re mine, little lamb.” He pulls my hand to his lap as he follows my family inside. “Always and forever. Mine.”

EPILOGUE

Regan

I’m standing in themiddle of one of Central Park trails.

In daylight.

Broad daylight.

Kids are running around. Men and women are sunbathing on the sand. A jogger sprints past me, almost brushing my shoulder. A group of people cross one of the bridges on their bicycles.

The sun shines on my face and I have my clothes on. No one’s stripping me with their eyes or their hands. No one. My white floral sundress feels soft against my skin, showing just as much skin asIchoose to show.

My body. My choice.

Well, not really. I know it’s Landon’s, even in my dream.

And it is a dream.

This isn’t the first time I’ve had one of those since Landon and I killed Lester.

For the first couple of months, the nightmares persisted.

The last ten years kept haunting me after Lester was gone.

Life had been good to me. Landon and I agreed that we wouldn’t opt for adoption and that both of us were enough. My man hadn’t left my side day and night. Joined me when I peed sometimes, for Christ’s sake.

Still, the nightmares persisted.

Until Landon and I started to think about how we can give back. We’ve been donating to sexual assault victims’ foundations since, and we volunteer in a sexual violence housing for teens in New York over the weekends.

So many people aren’t as fortunate as I am, to have a loving family and resources to carry them through the darkest nights.

With Landon at my side and Lester dead, I must give back.

That’s also what helped me find closure. How the nightmares stopped.

“Regan.”

His voice. Low and gravelly.

His arms wrap around me from behind. Lean, strong, and possessive.

“Little lamb.”

His hair tickles my shoulder

His cock is inside of me.

Impossible.

“There she is.”

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