Page 170 of Endgame
With his hand on the small of my back. While my parents’ eyes shoot daggers at us from across the room, with Winston’s jaw purple thanks to my husband.
But, yeah. Weird.
Very.
It’s been days since Everett’s confession. Since he said he cared. About me. The woman he seemed to despise for no apparent reason.
I got under his skin.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach when I heard him say those words. When I saw how honest he’d been. Fireworks exploded before my eyes.
I shouldn’t have wished for that. His attention. His affection. This confession.
When someone blackmails you, kidnaps you, or forces you to do anything, the logical reaction is to hate them.
Which I did. I hated Everett for a little while. I feared him, mostly.
In the present moment, I’m addicted to him. Attracted to him. Mesmerized by him.
He’s been healing me one day at a time. So much so that when I volunteer at the hospital, I can cuddle the babies without shedding a single tear.
Whenever I start freaking out with them in my arms, I remember how Everett holds me every night.
How he loves me.
His attention drags me out of the dark.
The pain, the tears, being degraded and ignored—I’d do it all over again, just so I could be his.
“You okay?” His voice is rich and soothing. Soft. But it’s his power that eases my mind.
No one’s come to greet us yet, but when they do, I won’t be scared. No one can hurt me when he’s around.
Not Stafford’s dad and brothers, who are in deep conversation with Lina Bernard.
Neither can Ivy, Lina’s daughter, who murmurs something to her father. Her husband, Tanner, doesn’t look our way either.
Stafford isn’t a threat, Everett reassured me back home. My husband’s only friend nods absentmindedly at his mom, Susanna. She keeps stealing glances at us, then at my parents.
“Better than okay.” I shoot a smile up at him. My smile grows wider still when I see his eyes flicker to my black elegant gown, to my high heels. His appreciative glance drives me wild. “I’m doing great. Why wouldn’t I?”
That’s the truth. The people who treated me as a prisoner throughout my entire life are at a safe distance.
Everett’s presence is protective enough. It’s everything I need.
He’sall I’ll ever need. His devotion. His total control over me. Everything he does grounds me. The weight of his collar around my neck and his rings around my finger too.
I’m owned, yet I’ve never felt so free. Ever.
He still hasn’t opened up to me. And for him, I’m being patient. We’ll talk when he’s ready.
Besides, actions speak louder than words. And around me, at home, Everett’s screaming.
As soon as he’s back home from work, he won’t leave my side. He comes looking for me.
I still crawl to him. He still gets so hard for it. Only difference is, he doesn’t ignore me.
He spoils me rotten. Feeds me and passes my drink from his mouth to mine. Every morning and evening without fail. While I kneel between his spread legs.
