Page 13 of My Deepest Desire

“No. It’s best no one knows,” I admit.

“Then why are you telling me?” She wraps her arms around herself, staring at me with eyes that beg me to tell her this is all a joke, that none of this is real. Part of me wishes I could.

“Because I love you. And you deserve the truth if there’s any chance we can be together.”

Maggie holds my gaze, searching for something within me that I hope like hell she finds. Something that deems me worthy enough to be with her. The silence threatens to suffocate me, but I force myself to remain still and wait for her to speak.

“Is this why you pushed me away when you came back to Cedar Point?” she finally asks, her tone a mixture of hurt and anger. “You realized you wanted to kill people for a living?”

I shake my head, struggling to find the right words. “I didn’t know that at sixteen, Maggie. I just knew I wasn’t good enough to be around you anymore. I did my best to mask my true personality from everyone, pretending to be the smartass, popular jock to keep people from asking questions and getting suspicious.”

Her expression softens a fraction, but the hurt in her eyes remains. “I wish you would have told me sooner. Would’ve saved me a lot of heartache. But I also regret not being there for you when you needed me. I should’ve tried harder.”

I scoff at her. “How could you have tried harder when I was such a dick to you?” My chest tightens at the memory of the pain I caused.

“Because I knew something wasn’t right. You weren’t acting like the boy I knew.”

“So you knew I’d be a murderer when we were in second grade?” I lift a single eyebrow at her.

“No,” Maggie says firmly, pinning me with her beautiful eyes. “That’s your job, Trey, not who you are. You eliminate bad people from the world, but that’s not your identity.”

Her words hit me hard, like a punch to the gut. A revelation I hadn’t considered. She’s right—I’m not defined by the blood on my hands. I may be a killer, but that’s not the extent of who I am. And with Maggie, I want to be more than just my profession; I want to be the man she needs me to be.

“Your words,” I murmur, my voice thick with emotion, “Are exactly why I love you, Mouse.”

She blinks, her expression softening for a moment before she narrows her eyes. “That doesn’t mean we’ll be together…”

I lean forward, the intensity of my feelings for her fueling my resolve. “I’m not giving you a choice.”

In this moment, I know without a doubt that I would do anything to make her mine. I won’t let my past or my job dictate our future. I’m still an asshole who hates most people and can’t stand to be around them. But for Maggie, I’ll be the man she deserves—the one who protects her, cherishes her, and loves her unconditionally.

8

MAGGIE

My hands tremble as I finish wrapping the last of the bandages around Trey’s knuckles, the evidence of his violent encounter with Chris still fresh and raw. The room is thick with tension, the air heavy and charged as we sit on the couch in my living room. Trey’s confessions hang between us like a dark cloud.

“Done,” I announce, securing the last piece of tape and looking up into his intense blue eyes. I’m conflicted. This man, who I’ve loved since childhood, has just revealed something that should be impossible for me to accept.

“Thank you, Mouse,” he tells me.

As I pack up the first aid kit, my mind races with a thousand thoughts and questions. It’s true that I suspected there was more to his life than what he let on, but this? I never could have imagined it in my wildest dreams.

I want to be appalled, disgusted even, knowing that he kills people for a living. Then again, he mentioned having boundaries—only going after those who truly deserve it. Does that make it any better? Should I be able to overlook this because of his moral code?

And what about me? What does it say about my character if I can rationalize and accept his actions? Am I a bad person, or worse, an accomplice if I don’t report him?

I shake my head, making a mental note to stay as far removed from the details of his work as possible. That way, I can’t be connected to it.

“Mouse,” Trey whispers, leaning closer. “Talk to me. Please.”

I set the kit on the coffee table. My gaze locks with his, and all I see is the boy I’ve loved since I was five years old staring back at me. His past actions might have created a chasm between us, but the love has always remained. And now, with everything laid bare before us, I have to decide if that love is worth the risk.

In this moment, I choose to believe in him, in us. Love may not erase the past or change the future, but it’s a start. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll be enough.

I choose to show Trey how I feel instead of saying anything.

Leaning forward, I press my lips against his, the kiss slow and tentative at first. As my thoughts blur, I feel the heat building between us. It doesn’t take long for Trey to take control, his dominant personality coming through as he deepens the kiss.

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