Page 117 of Finding Fate

Fate

Today

It seems like dayssince I entered the hospital via the ambulance Nash, Drake and Mac herded me into. If having two overly protective men in my life wasn't enough, now I have Daddy Drake to contend with too. Between the three of them, the opportunity to use the bathroom in privacy might never be an option again.

I get it though. Well, for Nash. I've been beaten, drugged, kind of kidnapped and held captive more than any one person should be in a lifetime, and somehow I've managed to squeeze it all into the past six months.

It's Nash who keeps reassuring me that I'm the victim here, not to blame for any of it, but even though I nod and smile at his words of encouragement, I know the truth. And the truth is everything that's been brought to me I've asked for. Begged for, almost. From my time in Africa to here, I'm the idiot who thought she could make a difference, change something in this crooked world. But I can't. There will always be someone bigger and stronger out there who will win, and I'll just be some forgotten name on a list of casualties to their destruction.

Like Destiny.

Like Mom.

Like the blue-eyed girl.

Like the woman’s screams I'll never not hear.

Like Lauren.

I am a casualty, not a victim. But I don't tell him that. No, I want him to have hope that this all will fade and someday my life will right itself and turn around. A fool’s hope, but still, I let him have it. I'll let him have anything but the one thing I want to give him, that I know I can't. I want us to live happily ever after, for him to get the girl, for the princess to find her prince. But this isn't a fairy tale—this is real life, and it's ugly, hostile, sad.

At least mine is. And I'm an idiot to think it would ever be anything else.

I watch as his chest rises and lowers in deep, relaxed sleep beside me in my hospital bed. The nurses scolded him for climbing in beside me, but one devilish smirk of his and all was forgiven.

Smiling, I brush a lock of hair from his forehead and trace a dark brow. In reflex, his arm tightens around my waist, pulling me tighter to his hard chest. He hasn't left since I was admitted twenty-four hours ago. Sat with me through all the questions, tests and blood work, holding my hand and scowling at any tech, nurse or doctor who caused me pain.

I love him.

More than love him. My heart physically hurts at the thought of not spending the rest of my life with him. Spent in his arms, being cherished and loved through life’s challenges. He'd do it too—give all of himself, give everything to me so I can live and be happy. I’d bet my life on it.

But at what point will it stop being enough? When will he realize I'm not worth the risk anymore?

Just as the thought passes, those brown eyes flicker open and stare into mine.

"I can almost feel you thinking," he says with a stretch before settling lengthwise against me. "You need to sleep."

Glancing out the window, I stare at the long row of glowing streetlights. "Can't."

"Hey." Fingers gripping my chin, he turns my gaze back to his. "Stop. I've told you you're not getting rid of me, and I won’t let you go. Don't you get it, Pops?” I shake my head, entranced by the soft glow in his eyes. "I had no idea what love was until you came along. I thought it was a fading thing where you could step away and never look back, but you, with you, with us, you're my air. You're essential to me living. This isn't love. This is life, and you're it. So stop thinking you won't be a part of it, because, Pops, the only way for you to ruin my life is by walking out of it."

"Nash, I—"

"Stop overthinking everything." A mischievous smirk pulls at his lips before turning sinister. "And I think I know what you need." Keeping his eyes locked with mine, a hand snakes under the covers and dips under my hospital gown, slowly sliding up my inner thigh.

"Nash," I breathe, unable to say stop because that's the last thing I want. I do need this, him and the reminder of who we are together. Thank goodness the nurses unhooked all the monitors earlier, readying me to be sent home later this afternoon.

"Yeah, Pops?"

The lightest of brushes between my thighs pushes a gasp past my lips. "Don't stop."

"Wasn’t planning on it."

He bends over my chest, his teeth latching onto my hard nipple through the sheet and gown. The slightest of tugs sends a wave of euphoria through my veins.

"More," I beg. "Never stop, Nash. Never let me go. Please don't ever go." No longer under my control, my fingers thread into his long hair, urging him on.

A growl of approval vibrates against my breast as he slides one finger inside me, then another.

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