Page 128 of Wicked Devotion
“You didn’t have to sell yourself to Emerson,” I say.
“I would do anything as long as it means you and Lily are happy and safe,” he mumbles, reaching for his keys as we make it to the front door of our house.
Inside, it smells like cake, new furniture, and cardboard mixed with a little bit of paint. A plate with freshly baked brownies sits on the kitchen counter, a note with a heart drawn on it sticking to the dish.
Lily is snuggled up on the couch, the TV still running as she stirs in her sleep. She must have tried to stay awake to wait for us to come back, and the realization that this is our life now is enough to fill my heart with so much happiness it feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest.
Logan walks over to Lily and scoops her up in his arms, carrying her to our shared bedroom.Shared, with the compromise that the guestroom is Logan’s realm. He hasn’t slept there a single time since we moved in.
Hastily, I get out of my clothes while brushing my teeth at the same time, and as soon as I’m under the covers next to Lily, Logan takes his turn to get ready for the night.
I exhale in relief when we’re both in bed, Lily sleeping soundly in between us. Her head rests on Logan’s shoulder while she clutches my arm with her hand, and I softly stroke over her head. Somehow, I’m still scared of her turning into dust if I stop touching her for too long.
In the first few days after Lily’s abduction, she woke up crying in the middle of the night. I think it’s part of the reason Logan insists on sleeping here.
Throughout all of this, I forced myself to stay strong for Lily. To provide a shoulder for her to cry on, knowing how quickly emotional stuff overwhelms Logan. I took on Lily’s emotional turmoil and stashed it away right next to minebecause I promised to take care of her, and I am going to keep this promise until the day I die.
Still, we don’t know what the future holds. We don’t know what’s going to happen, and sometimes, the fear of losing her and Logan becomes so overbearing I forget how to breathe.
“Hey,” Logan snaps me out of my gloomy fantasy, tugging on my lower lips with his thumb so I let go of it.
“Try to enjoy it,” he whispers. “For me.”
“I’m just so goddamn scared,” I whisper back.
“Don’t be.”
I wish it was this simple.
“There’s nothing to be scared of. I can kill anyone who dares to look at you and Lily. And if it’s something that can’t be killed, I’ll find another solution.”
He puts his hand on my cheek, making it easier to return his smile.
“We have Lily. We have each other, and that alone is so much more than I ever thought I’d have. This right here is all that matters.”
EPILOGUE
LILY
Dough sticks to my hands as I prepare tonight's dinner, but I’m more interested in the sight of Max, who’s working on his truck in the driveway.
I lost count of how many kitchen accidents have happened in the past four months since we’ve moved in, mainly caused by the conveniently placed window and the fact that Max deems white undershirts appropriate work-attire.
The one time I playfully complained about it, he offered to solve the issue by working without any kind of shirt, which obviously did not help.
Snapping myself out of my dirty fantasy before I drool all over the kitchen worktop, I focus back on the task at hand. Once the dough actually looks the part, I put it away to rest for a few hours. If I didn’t mess up my timing, it should be ready right when Logan returns from his latest job.
This time, he had been gone for almost a week. He was supposed to come back last night but then Governor Emerson remembered that he had scheduled a last minute meeting, onehe wanted Logan to be present at. Sometimes I think he just really likes Logan’s company.
Max and I can’t wait for Logan to come back home. For various reasons that range fromI miss him staring at me while I sleepto stuff a bit more depraved. I’m pretty sure Logan still watches us while we sleep, even when he’s on a job. Just through the cameras.
Unfortunately, cleaning up the kitchen does not agree with staring at Max, so I avert my gaze again, this time with a sigh, and start scrubbing. Quickly, before Max notices. He still insists on doing almost everything for me and while I do like being pampered, I also feel bad about him cleaning up a kitchen I dirtied entirely on my own.
As I load the last few utensils in the dishwasher, the sun already starts to set and I decide to go check in with Max. Leaving the door to the house open, I step out on the porch, enjoying the feeling of the cool evening breeze on my skin.
Max is still busy with his truck, a sweaty sheen coating his tanned arms, and when he stands up straight and wipes his hands clean on his shirt, he gives me a smile that’s even more beautiful than the sunset behind him.
If the life I’m living now is the reward for almost dying twice, I’d do it again without hesitation.
