Page 122 of Unravelling The Hitman: A BWWM Romance

He was after all of me and it was something I was still trying to wrap my head around.

Someone like Deacon had chosen me.

And he wanted to be chosen in return. He offered control and took control, but it was a gentle, seductive dance rather than a game that just dragged my heart around on a stick.

I was learning to depend on him and his love for me more than I thought I would. When something good happened, he was the first person I wanted to call.

When something bad happened, I wanted to hear his voice more than anyone’s.

At the end of the summer, one of my kids’ parents got arrested for domestic violence and the social worker and police came to the community center to take them to a foster home.

I called Deacon that day, crying. He comforted me and stayed on the line until I’d calmed down enough to return to the other kids. I was able to be strong for them because I’d leaned on him.

We were growing closer—a feat, given we hadn’t seen each other in person since we’d separated in the hospital.

Deacon had yet to ask me to come back to the island, but I knew he was itching to have me there. I was hesitating because… I knew the moment I stepped foot on his domain, he would make me his so completely that I’d never want to leave.

I loved my job in Belize City and I loved being near my parents.

Still, I was starting to waver.

Talking every day and falling asleep on opposite ends of the phone line made me eager, desperate, to be close to him, to see him. Deacon had taken over my thoughts and my longings.

I was ready to trust him. I wanted to trust the man he said he’d become. The details didn’t matter if we were together.

The intense feeling that I should be with him on that island grew everyday, warring with my certainty that I should be with my family. It was tearing me apart.

What should I choose?

Feeling restless, I slid out of bed and tiptoed to the vanity dresser that was cluttered with lotions and makeup. I swiped the junk aside and picked up the jewelry box Deacon had given me the day I left the island.

My fingernails dug into the grooves and I opened it up, revealing the sparkling diamond necklace. It was beautiful and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know how much it had cost.

I placed it around my neck and looked at myself in the mirror, admiring the way the diamond sparkled against my brown skin.

The door opened suddenly and my mother walked into my bedroom. She wore a simple blue T-shirt and khakis, managing to look soft and elegant in the outfit. Brown eyes fixed and caught on the necklace. “Ooh. That’s pretty.”

“Thanks.” I took it off and set it back in the box.

“Where did you get it?”

“It was a gift.”

“From Deacon?” She arched an eyebrow.

“What? I mean… yes, but how did you know?”

“Honey, your father and I aren’t deaf. We hear you giggling and sighing on the phone with him every night.”

“What?” Embarrassment flushed my cheeks.

“Come downstairs. We need to talk to you.”

“About what?” I gawked.

She just turned and strutted out of the room.

I dashed behind her. “Mom!”

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