Page 59 of It Will Always Be You
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts as his cock rams into me. “Bounce on my fucking cock. Show me how much you missed it. Coat me in your cum. Do it.” The tight coil inside me reaches its breaking point. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come. Be a good girl and take everydrop.”
The combination of his filthy words and the feeling of his dick swelling inside me does it. Everything blurs as my shaking body arches back into his thrusts, and needy whines fall from my lips. I’m shaking as Jonathan slams into me one final time, his abs hitting my ass as he buries himself deep and groans. His cock twitches, pumping me full of his cum just as he promised. He pulls my head up, twisting my face around before his mouth crashes to mine, kissing me like he’s claiming me.
As if he hasn’t already claimed me soul-deep.
Chapter 53
Having all the pieces to Helen’s story is all I wished for from the moment the seed was planted that she might be alive. But now that I have them…I wonder if it would be easier if she was dead. I’d much rather shoulder that pain than have her go through what she did, what those sick motherfuckers put her through.
How can she stand to let me touch her? Hell, how is she even stillstanding?
In the morning, I’ll get to work tracking down every sick motherfucker who had anything to do with her time in Belfast but, for now, I’ll hold her and do all I can to absorb her pain. A listening ear is the very least I can offer her.
“I feel like all we’ve done since I got back is talk about me. What’s happened in your world? Catch me up, please. I’m sick to death talking about me and my trauma. I’d much rather talk about you. What ever happened to Sheila? To your dad’s house?” She tilts her chin to look at me from her place on my chest.
“The house is still there, but it never felt right moving into it. Ipay for it to be looked after, but it’s empty. As for Sheila, she passed a year or two after Da.” Running my hand down her back, I play with her hair as she blinks up at me with sorrow-filled eyes.
“She loved him, didn’t she?”
“She did. I like to think they’re together now,” I murmur, squeezing her closer.
“I bet they are.” She kisses my chest before switching subjects. “And business? What’s been happening there?”
“It’s a shit show, if I’m honest with you. I thought when Logan killed Angus, things would settle down, but if anything, things got worse. We learnt about the dark web, which led us down a rabbit hole. Logan overhauled the entire Clan; we lost one of our own, and we thought we’d gotten to the root of the problem, only to discover the damn thing was still running. It’s like a damn viper—cut off one head, and another grows, no matter what we do.” Frustration bleeds from me as I summarise the last few months.
With a frown, she hums as she processes. This is another thing I’ve missed: how we could bounce ideas back and forth off each other and conquer whatever issue plagued us. After a few moments of consideration, she snaps her fingers and props herself up a bit to look at me better. Her hair falls round her face in a sex-rumpled mess that has my ego standing tall.
“Have you considered instead of actively hunting them down, maybe blending in? Making up some fake profile and gaining their trust until you’re invited to the next auction? Instead of having a rat in your midst, be like a rat in theirs, ideally without telling anyone. That way, the chances of it leaking are as low as possible.”
“It’s worth a shot,” I muse before pulling her into a kiss and ending all conversation. Business will still be here in the morning. For now, I want to enjoy the feeling of my sweetheart being back where she belongs.
Chapter 54
With Jonathan’s concerns gnawing at the edges of my thoughts, I ask Donna to come over the next afternoon while he heads out on business. There’s a tension in my chest I can’t shake — like something vital is about to snap.
As soon as she steps through the front door, I don't even give her time to take her coat off.
“Please tell me you’ve got something,” I say. “Something we can use.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, but there’s no bite behind it. Just tired understanding.
“Oh, honey,” she says, exasperated but kind. “Do you even remember who you’re talking to?”
“Then quit edging me and cut to the damn chase,” I huff, though my voice lacks its usual fire. My nerves are frayed raw.
Donna grins—sharp and unapologetic, just like always. “Some things never change.”
She settles in, flipping open her laptop with a flourish. “I started with Lily’s birthcertificate. No father listed, but the hospital was in Belfast. That led me down the rabbit hole of old hospital staff logs, cross-referencing birth records, background reports... and then I found this.”
She turns the screen toward me.
I freeze.
The air disappears from the room. The blood in my veins turns to ice.
Because there, staring back at me in black and white, is a man I’ve spent every waking moment trying to forget.
My sister’s rapist. Her killer.
