Page 65 of Mayfly

“I’m so sorry.” Curren returns his knife to his ankle holster, then his mouth is back on mine—his bare hand running over my scalp.

“No sorry’s," I mumble because neither of us can bear to tear our mouths away from the other. "But just because you killed for me doesn’t mean you get to disobey my rules.”

“Fucking hell.” Curren pushes his forehead against mine as he stands. My arms instantly grapple to get his body closer, but he grabs my wrists, and as he climbs onto my lap, he forces me to feel how hard he is. “I’ve been like this since I stood him in front of you… I was so excited… I couldn’t wait to kill him for you.”

Impulsively, I grip him as best I can. “Best not turn it into a habit, though.”

With blood smudged across his chin and cheeks, and sweat trickling from his temples, his expression turns devious. “And why not?”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“With our skills and your connections, we could—“

“You’ve forgotten my legs.”

“Can you believe that bastard thought he stood a chance?”

"Curren."

“In what world would he ever be enough?”

“Listen to me."

“I’d never let him touch me… I’d rather die than fuck him.”

"Curren!" I stop him in his tracks by yanking his head backwards. "You forgot my legs."

The typography of his neck, streaked with crimson, dances as he smugly tells me, “No, I haven’t.”

“Curren. You need to cut me out, then leave.”

“I’m not leaving.” He shakes his head and some of the black lines etched into his flesh poke out around his collar.

“Don’t start your puppy bullshit.”

“Then don’t call me a puppy.”

“I’m serious.” From one extreme to the other, I pry his head forward and look him dead in the eye. “You need to get the fuck out of England—I don’t care where.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Meet me in Greece. In two weeks, at the resort we talked about.”

“No.”

“Curren!” I yell, and the echo repeats his name for every floor we are high.

“Jude,” he whispers against my lips.

“Please.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Nothing will happen to me, but I can’t protect you. This—” I jerk my chin towards Issak, “Can be explained away. I have all the evidence I need, but you’ll muddy that. I can’t have you taken away from me.” A boiling hot tear runs down my cheek. "Just now, when I thought you and him were… I was trying to throw myself over the edge.”

Curren removes his second glove and throws it down the hole, like he's telling me he doesn't need them anymore. Grabbing the side of the chair, he pulls it away from the edge, then takes my battered, bruised, and bloody face in his bare hands. “I need you more than I need breath, Jude. There’s no way I was gonna let you leave, even if you wanted to go. You belong to me for as long as I keep living.”

“I've never been a jealous man."

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