Page 26 of Sacrifice
Is she replaying my words, getting angry all over again?
Or is she touching herself, remembering how good we are together when we stop fighting long enough to fuck?
I fucking dream about you. Every night.
Christ, that admission is going to haunt me.
The way her voice cracked when she said it, like the words were ripped from her against her will.
The mix of fury and desire in her eyes.
I force myself to keep riding, to go home instead of parking outside her building like some kind of stalker.
Though let's be honest—I'm already tracking her movements, monitoring her dates, scaring off potential threats.
What's a little light surveillance between future lovers?
The house is dark when I pull in, a quiet suburban street giving no hint of the danger creeping closer.
My neighbors are a retired teacher and a young family with three kids.
Normal people living normal lives, no idea the guy next door has enough weapons to arm a small militia and blood on his hands that'll never wash clean.
Inside, I pour another whiskey and drop onto the couch, exhaustion hitting all at once.
Too much shit happening too fast.
Los Coyotes, the Irish deal, security protocols, and underneath it all—Saga.
Always fucking Saga.
I pull out my phone, her number on the screen before I realize what I'm doing.
It's late, after one now.
She's probably asleep, curled up in that bed I've been in exactly once, wearing one of those tiny sleep sets that barely qualify as clothes.
Or maybe she's awake, thinking about me like I'm thinking about her.
Maybe she's pressing her thighs together again, remembering how I made her feel, fighting the need to call me.
My thumb hovers over her name.
One call.
Just to hear her voice, even if she tells me to fuck off.
Even if she hangs up immediately. Just to know she's safe, home where she should be.
But that's not how this works.
I can't show weakness, can't let her know how fucked up I am over her.
She needs to come to me, to admit what we both know.
That she's mine, that she's always been mine, that all this fighting is just foreplay for the inevitable.
I set the phone aside without calling, but pull up her social media instead.
