Page 54 of Grave Intentions

“Only if you promise to be a good girl.” I ease out of her, stroking her slick folds with my thumb. “If you let me take you wherever and however I want.”

“Yes.” Her voice is a desperate plea. “Anything, just don’t stop.”

“That’s my girl.” I thrust back inside her, setting a brutal pace. “Remember this moment, right here, right now. The moment you became irrevocably mine.”

Lena’s back arches, her body tense as she rides the wave of her orgasm. I spill inside her, groaning her name. We’re both breathless for a moment, our hearts pounding in unison. Then, gently, I lower us to the ground, pulling her onto my lap, her back against my chest. She shivers in the night air, and I wrap my arms around her, feeling a sense of possessiveness like never before.

“Are you cold?” I murmur, kissing her neck.

“A little.”

I hand Lena her dress, watching as she slips it over her marked body. The moonlight catches on the fresh cuts—my initials forever etched into her skin. Pride and possessiveness surge through me at the sight.

“Ready to go?” I ask but pause before we leave. “Actually, there’s one more thing I want to show you.”

Taking her hand, I lead her to three empty plots beside David’s grave. “See these? I’ve already reserved them.” My fingers trace through the air, mapping out the spaces. “One for Jamie, one for Mr. Wilson, and one for Mrs. Wilson. A family reunion of sorts.”

“No.” Lena’s grip on my hand tightens painfully. “You can’t hurt Jamie.”

I turn to face her, surprised by the steel in her voice.

“He protected me when you weren’t there, Talon. Multiple times.” Her eyes flash with determination. “And Mrs. Wilson—Jamie needs some family. You can’t touch her, either.”

The fierce protectiveness in her tone catches me off guard. I hadn’t expected her to defend them, especially not after what we just did over David’s grave. But there she stands, chin lifted defiantly, daring me to argue.

“Jamie showed me kindness when no one else would,” she continues. “He doesn’t deserve to end up here.”

I study Lena’s face in the moonlight, processing her fierce defense of Jamie and Mrs. Wilson. My jaw clenches.

“What about Mr. Wilson?”

Lena’s shoulders tense. She stares at the empty plot I indicated for him, a slight tremor running through her body. After a long pause, she gives a single nod.

“He deserves it because...” Her voice trails off, hands twisting in the fabric of her dress.

“Tell me.” My tone brooks no argument. “What did he do?”

Lena wraps her arms around herself, taking a shaky breath. “After you left—when he caught us and threw you out... he...” She swallows hard. “When everyone was gone, and he was drunk, he... he raped me. Two times.”

White-hot rage floods my system. My fists clench at my sides.

“Jamie stopped him other times when he tried,” she continues, voice barely above a whisper. “If Jamie hadn’t been there...”

A growl rips from my throat. The world takes on a red tinge as I imagine that bastard touching her. Hurting her. My Lena.

“When?” I demand through gritted teeth.

“A few weeks after you left.”

My chest constricts painfully. If I hadn’t left... if I’d stayed...

I clench my jaw, fury and frustration warring inside me. “He would have made sure I rotted in prison,” I tell Lena. “A troubled foster kid against an upstanding member of the community? The cops would’ve laughed.”

Mr. Wilson had connections throughout Salem—the police chief played golf with him, and the DA attended the same church. Meanwhile, I was just another damaged kid with a record of fighting and “behavioral issues.”

“That bastard probably saw something he liked and that’s why he kicked me out,” My fists clench at my sides. “He could have done it years before, but after seeing you in that way he wanted you to himself.” The rage I feel is impossible to tame.

I remember the look in Mr. Wilson’s eyes that last evening—cold calculation. He knew exactly what he was doing when he caught me with Lena. If I hadn’t left, he would have found a way to get rid of me permanently anyway.

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