Page 60 of Judgment Day

“Nah.” Linc pulled back. “You don’t scare that easily. That’s why he chose you.” He kissed my forehead. “I know that because it’s why I chose you, too.”

There was first love—the one that broke barriers and stole innocence. The kind that buried itself deep inside. The kind that learned and grew and stuck around even in the uncomfortable moments. The kind that only happened once. Then, there was another love, a different love—the kind that drew a line, separating thebeforeand theafter. Before them and after them. This love felt like shelter in the storm. It saw beauty when the world saw chaos.

I had been lucky enough to find both.

I looked at Lincoln, my first love. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He lifted me up, hauling me over his shoulder, making me squeal. “And just in case you forget who you belonged to first…” He slapped his palm over my ass, then sank his teeth into the tender flesh of my thigh.

* * *

The gardens at Grey’s estate were in bloom. The kitchen was stark-white and spotless. Our footsteps bounced off the marble floors and onto the high ceilings. There were fresh florals in vases on tables. Every room smelled like citrus. Clean. Crisp.

I breathed it all in.

“It’s so good to have you back, Lady Lauren,” Mrs. McTavish said as I followed her hurried steps through the kitchen and up the stairs.To my room.

My name is Lyric.I loved that Grey called me by my name in those moments when the world wasn’t watching, moments that belonged to us.

Was I back?

For tonight, I was. But how much longer after that?

I didn’t know.

What kind of person did that make me? Maybe Malcolm was right. Maybe I didn’t deserve his son. Maybe I didn’t deserve Grey, either.

“Lady?” Mrs. McTavish called out, and I wondered how many times she’d said my name.

I blinked, then focused on her kind face. “I’m sorry, Mrs. McTavish. What were you saying?”

She smiled. Her eyes were full of forgiveness I wasn’t sure I was worthy of. “I was saying I hope you’ll stay a while.” She opened the door to my room.

Nothing had changed, yeteverythinghad changed. The walls were the same soft golden yellow and the floors a plush beige carpet. The bed on the far wall was covered in white and royal blue bedding with a canopy of silk curtains framing the headboard. The comforter was unruffled, unslept-in. My first night here, I’d fallen asleep hearing Grey’s voice in my ear and seeing Linc’s face. The truth behind that revelation crashed into me.It had always been the two of them.

My gaze danced over the sitting area with two cream-colored chairs and a loveseat in front of a fireplace. A crystal chandelier hung in the center. The curtains were open, letting the sun shine through the large window that overlooked the gardens. It smelled like lavender.

“I put fresh soap in here yesterday,” Mrs. McTavish said. It was a small gesture, but it imparted so much comfort.She missed me, too.

I caught sight of the bathtub in my peripheral, and my heart sank, picturing Grey on the floor, his back against the wall with a book in his hands.

“Thank you.” I smiled. “But I won’t need it.” Her smile fell, so I continued. “I won’t be sleeping in here tonight.”I’ll be with Grey.

Her face beamed at the unspoken meaning. I didn’t expect anything less. “Right. Of course not.” Her breath came in excited bursts as she hurried us back out of the room as though I would change my mind if she didn’t. “Mr. Van Doren should be home soon.” All the hope she’d held for all those years drenched every syllable.

After years of walking past his room, wondering what kind of secrets it kept, I would finally know. And it wouldn’t be because of some twisted ceremony. There was no walking a dangerous line and being too afraid to cross it. It was real. The hope I’d refused to let myself hope was finally alive and breathing. No more distance between us. No more hating myself for craving his touch. His smell. His presence.

My hand trailed along the polished-wood rail as we walked the stairs. My fingertips painted imaginary strokes along the walls, touching them to make sure this was real. I was here. We turned the corner, heading down a familiar hall. My mouth was dry, my heart pounding.

“I’ll wait in the library, if that’s okay.” The library. My safe haven.

She eyed me warily, then cleared her throat. “Have you spoken with Mr. Van Doren? Has he told you—”

She bounced off my back, halting her words when I stopped. Froze. My heart plummeted to my stomach.

He sat on the sofa in the library. His features were strong—chin, nose, cheekbones, elegant silhouette—like Grey’s.

His eyes were strikingly blue. Like Grey’s.

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