Page 229 of Deviant

Rowen throws me a discrete wink as she falls in line with Anton’s steps and asks him a bunch of questions.

I, in turn, trail behind them and take in the sight that is my wife’s perfect ass. It’s the only distraction worth a damn since after you visit one of these types of institutions, you’ve visited them all. I’ve been through this rodeo too many times to count. She’ll ask harmless questions first, questions where he’s allowed to boast about the facility’s success stories. She’ll laugh and flirt a little if she has to, something that ticks me off, but I can’t complain about it since the end goal is bigger than my bruised ego. Once she has her mark completely eating out of her hand, she’ll then ask about his most troubling cases and if she can be introduced to that patient.

She’s got the whole routine penned down.

After having his ear for twenty minutes, she walks back to me, her luminous smile making my heart jump back to life.

“He says that his most troubling patients are usually outside at this hour, either painting or just enjoying the sun. He also doesn’t mind that we take a peek as long as we don’t disturb any of them.”

I pick up her chin with the pad of my index finger and crane her face upward to mine.

“Too bad for him. Cause my little doe-eyed girl is going to disturb the fuck out of some people, isn’t she?”

Her hazel eyes sparkle back at me, true love beaming in her gaze.

“I love you,” she says, needing to say the words out loud so I never forget them.

“Not as much as I love you,” I promise.

“You always say that but you can’t know something like that,” she coos, placing her palm to my cheek. “Who is to say that I don’t love you more?”

“I’m a lucky fucker, either way, sweetheart. Now how about you kiss your husband, before I take you into one of these rooms and make you.”

Not having to be told twice, she wraps her arms around my neck and presses her lips to mine.

It’s hard to conceive that there was ever a time I was too scared to kiss this woman.

Now, I’d happily live out my days with her lips attached to mine.

When she pulls away, her cheeks are that pretty pink color I love so much, and her eyes are burning with want.

“Now, now, wife, you can’t look at me like you want to get fucked and then complain when I do just that. Eye on the prize, baby. Eye on the prize.”

The little pout that she makes has my cock twitching, and it takes everything in me not to say fuck this shit, find a room and just fuck my woman’s brains out.

If I didn’t have a gut feeling that this is the place, I would have done just that.

“This is it, Roe,” I whisper to her just in case someone passes by and overhears us. “You’ve done your homework. You’ve connected all the dots. This is the place.”

“I’m nervous,” she says, going to the root cause of her procrastination. “Not just that, I’m scared.”

I wrap her in my arms and hug her tightly to me.

“I know, baby. I know. But if this goes to shit, you still have me. You’ll always have me.”

Her tense muscles instantly relax in my hold, my words like a comfort blanket wrapped around her heart.

“I don’t care what you say. I love you more. There is no way you could love me as much as I love you,” she whispers, slapping my chest and pretending that her tears aren’t threatening to come out.

I don’t refute her or antagonize her by saying that shit is very unlikely.

I let her believe what she wants to believe because the truth of the matter is, no one in history has loved a woman as much as I love my Roe.

Our love story might not have started off pretty—Fuck. Who am I kidding—it started off like it was right out of a horror novel, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t transform into something beautiful.

To imagine that I wanted to kill the one person who brought such life back into my very drab existence is inconceivable to me now. My world was dark and grey when she flipped it on its head. She gave it color. She breathed life into it. There was lifebefore Rowen and after Rowen. And I thank my lucky stars every day that I got to be a part of her after, too.

For all our talks of good and evil that we’ve had over the years, one thing is clear—withoutThe Scourge,I wouldn’t have fallen in love with my soulmate. I would have probably pushed her off Grove Bridge, or maybe she would have gained the courage to jump, and what a tragedy that would have been.

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