Page 72 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

Her lashes flutter open when I take her hand in mine.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hey,” I say, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear before stroking her cheek, my chest tightening when she leans further into my touch. It blows my mind that even after knowing what these hands are capable of, she still allows them to touch her skin.

“Baby—you need sleep,” she says when my eyes start to droop. I haven’t had more than a few hours of sleep at a time since she was taken. My body feels completelydrained, and I would love nothing more than to climb into a soft bed and sleep for the next few days, but I’ll be damned if I’m going anywhere without Maggie by my side.

“I’m not leaving here until you do,” I tell her.

“Then at least come back and lay with me,” she offers.

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I climb into the bed, mindful of her injuries. My large frame takes up far too much space to be comfortable, the bed rails digging into my spine, but I don’t mind. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We lay there, face to face, our hands intertwined between us.

“You know, I didn’t think I was meant to have this. I always assumed I was destined to be alone. That after what happened with my sister, I didn’t deserve this kind of happiness.” I cup her jaw, running the pad of my thumb across her bottom lip.

“You were never supposed to be mine. That night when I first saw you, my only intention was to help you, protect you, to keep you safe. I wasn’t supposed to actuallykeep you. You are far too good for someone like me.” She opens her mouth as if to protest, but I silence her with a kiss.

“I was never supposed to fall for you, but I did. Hard. And now, I don’t ever wanna let you go.” The little lines between her brows smooth out and she gives me a small, sweet smile.

“Then don’t,” she breathes into the space between us before leaning in, ghosting a soft kiss over my lips. I return the kiss long and deep until my eyes grow heavy and I fall into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in years.

29

Maggie

Iwas released from the hospital a few days later.

Jane remained in Boston with her boyfriend, William, until just after I was released, when he finally convinced her to return back home. After seeing the two of them together, and how much he cares for her, I know she’s going to be ok.

There’s a part of me that still worries, what will happen now that she no longer needs me. But when I finally gave voice to my concerns, she looked at me like I had three heads, and assured me that no matter what she willalwaysneed me. I guess only time will tell.

Archer, staying true to his word, never left my side. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to convince him otherwise—he still wouldn’t go, a fact I think that drove most of the nurses and doctors crazy as he became increasingly more grumpy with each passing day.

Once we released, we spent the next few weeks in Boston, staying with Beckham in his penthouseapartment. I remember Archer telling me how he had his own tech company, but he failed to mention he was a freaking billionaire—not that you would know it. Becks, as Archer calls him, is as down to Earth as they come.

The first week, I spent mostly in bed, much to my displeasure. After the first few days, I was itching to get up and move—not used to all this laying around—but Archer wasn’t having any of it. I tried to remind myself that he was also processing his own trauma, but his overprotective behavior while sweet, was almost smothering.

We managed to compromise eventually and agreed to take a few days before going home to get out and see some of the sites. Archer showed me around the neighborhood he grew up in and took me to a few of his favorite spots. We even managed to squeeze in some touristy stuff, like visiting the Boston Tea Party Museum and eating some of the best chowder I’ve ever had down by the harbor.

Since I had never traveled outside of Georgia before, Archer wanted to make sure I had somegoodmemories to take back with me and not just…well, you know.

The night before we left, we had dinner at his mother’s house. Apparently, she showed up while I was in the hospital, and they were able to reconcile after years of not speaking. I still don’t know the full extent of what all happened, but I can already tell that it has helped to heal a wound inside him. He seems lighter somehow, as if a weight has been lifted.

Now, we’re back home, at Archer’s house by thebeach. It’s strange to think about how much has happened since we were last here, how much things have changed.

We’re currently sitting in the shade of the live oak in the backyard, my back against the tree, a book in my hand, and Archer’s head in my lap. My fingers absently stroke the hair at the nape of his neck as I read while Archer watches me. Apparently, it’s his new favorite thing to do. He claims he can always tell when I get to a particularly juicy part because he says my eyes glaze over and my neck turns all red and splotchy.

He has been so unbelievably sweet and careful with me over these past few weeks, and while I am incredibly grateful, I am also about to come out of my skin. Other than a few kisses here and there, Archer hasn’t touched me intimately since that first night we were together before everything went to shit. It’s as if he is afraid to hurt me, but that’s about to change if I have anything to say about it.

I had my last follow-up appointment today. My recovery has gone amazingly well, and I have been cleared to return toallnormal activities.

The sun begins to sink behind the trees, taking my reading light with it. Archer stands, holding out his hand to help me up before pulling me in and kissing me softly. I wrap my arms around his waist, going up on my toes to deepen the kiss.

My hands slip under his worn cotton t-shirt, gliding over his taut abs, drifting lower until I reach the button of his jeans.

He stills my hand when I try to unbutton them, and I draw back on a sigh, my arms falling loosely at my sides. I wish he would stop treating me like I’m breakable.

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