28. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Leighton

F ingers explore my naked belly. The underside of my breast. They brush my nipples, the touch reverent and loving.

Marcus.

We lie in bed. His forehead is pressed to mine. My eyelids are closed, still heavy from the deep sleep I had. Not a trance. Not a nap, either.

I've been sleeping. Since after we had sex, for what seems like hours.

Which should be impossible. Marcus woke me up to play after a full night's sleep. Or maybe he did it before he went out for his jog at sunrise? I was so high on our games; I hadn't noticed whether the light in the room came from a lamp or the outside world.

He must've woken me at dawn. Had to. And here he is. Waking me up a second time this morning after his jog and morning coffee. I haven't slept. No way. Just caught up on another hour or two of sleep.

Right?

I blink my eyes open. It takes forever for them to focus on Marcus's handsome face. When they finally do, my heart expands in a million different directions. My soul soars.

The concentration on his face as he studies mine is intense. Probing. Focused on me as though nothing and no one else exists.

On our first days here, I resented his obsession. Hated what it did to him, to the man I adored and loved back home. My subconscious screamed that Marcus is all wrong. That he'll slip up and we'll die.

Today, I thrive on his insane side as much as I do on his sweet side.

I'm equally obsessed with both as much as he's obsessed with me.

"Plaything." His palm covers my chin, tilting my face to him. He's shirtless, rising to perch on his forearm. Darkly gorgeous. My wicked demon. "Are you okay?"

"That's a strange question," my sleepy brain answers for me. I've been too wrapped up in how stunning Marcus is to understand where this is coming from. "Why are you asking?"

He wraps an arm around my back, dragging me to him. My palms are splayed on his chest and his hand slides to my ass, grabbing a fistful.

We're enveloped in darkness. The lamps in the room haven't been switched on, and it's still too early in the morning to see Marcus well. It's just the barest of lights that filters from behind the curtains.

Yup, he definitely woke me up before sunrise. My insatiable boyfriend.

"You've been out for the last nine hours," he says when we break our kiss.

Excuse me?

What?

He's smiling.

Why in the hell would he smile when there's something wrong with me?

"W-what?" I push up to sit.

Marcus pushes me right back down to the bed.

His smile transforms into a sinister grin. His fingers bite into the flesh of my ass.

"You were tired." He grabs me beneath my thigh, hiking my leg over his. His hard cock presses to my belly, one fingertip probing my asshole. "That's a good sign."

"Nine hours? In the middle of the day?" I frown, but don't fight him. "That can't be good. Tell me you see that."

He shakes his head deliberately slow. When his gaze lowers to my stomach and stays there, I understand.

Boy, do I understand.

"No." My hand flings to my navel, grazing his hard cock. "No. We haven't even talked to Rylan or my parents. We… It was a kink. Breeding me was a kink. It's too soon."

"Not too soon," Marcus groans, rocking his hips into my hand and stomach. "It's right, Leighton. This, like us, couldn't have been more right. Even if it's right now. "

"We can't be sure." I swallow around the knot in my throat. "Maybe I'm exhausted. Just exhausted."

"I'm fucking sure, Leigh." Marcus spanks me, the smack unforgiving. His eyes are still hungry. Ravenous. "This is the universe telling us we were always meant to be."

"I'm not saying I don't want it," I murmur as I try to make sense of my world. Our world. Eventually, I blink, gazing at Marcus from beneath my eyelashes. "I'm scared."

"You're brave. So brave." The kiss he plants on my forehead sends warmth through me. "You faced me. You drowned in that pool out there to put me in my place. Let the man who's taken you to induce you. You can handle our baby. Besides, you won't be alone. I'll always be there. I'm never leaving you again. Never."

A sprinkle of happiness permeates through the cloud of panic. This feels like hope. Slowly, I'm able to breathe again.

I have Marcus. I have myself.

Ry loves babies too. There's no way she'll try to kill me, her best friend, if I'm carrying her little half-brother or sister in my womb.

Right?

Right?

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

Marcus's phone on the nightstand slices throughout our moment.

"Hold that thought." He waits for me to nod, then reaches back. Facing me again, his body close to mine, he takes the call. "Dr. Hatchett? "

"Dad, hi." I hear Rylan's voice, high-pitched and overly excited. Her murderous voice. "I've missed you. If I didn't know better, I'd think you've been avoiding me."

"Rylan." Marcus brings the phone to his face. His eyebrows scrunch and his mouth curls in a snarl as he double-checks the caller ID. "Where's Dr. Hatchett?"

"The old hag who lied to me? Who told me she hadn't talked to you since you bailed on your. Own. Fucking. Daughter?" The longer Ry talks, her saccharine tone changes into hysterical screams. "You mean her, Dad ?"

"Rylan, you don't want to test me." Marcus puts the phone on speaker, dropping it on the bed between us. He pulls up his briefs and jeans from the floor, taking the phone with him as he heads to the closet. "Tell me she's fine."

His ability to remain calm despite what Ry has dumped on him is admirable. If his therapist's life wouldn't have been on the line, I would've done something bad. Like jump his bones. He's that hot.

And her life is in danger. His and mine are too.

Our and…

My hands cover my stomach protectively.

I sit up, holding my breath. Listening closely, I try to catch whatever sounds come from the closet.

There are sounds of driving and shuffling. Of someone screaming behind a gag.

"She's alive," my best friend chirps.

In the background, I hear a pop, pop, pop sound. Rylan's tapping on the steering wheel. Same as she does when she's—

Bile rises in my throat .

When she's happy.

"What about me?" Rylan laughs, and I clutch the sheets. "Don't you care about me?"

"Of course, I care." Marcus returns from the closet wearing a dark gray T-shirt. A frown mars his face. "You know I love you, sweetheart."

He's brought clothes for me. When he throws his phone on the bed again, he signals for me to stand and raise my arms.

"So why haven't you called?" Her shrill scream is deafening.

I flinch. Marcus doesn't.

"Why don't you tell me, Ry?" He continues to dress me in an oversized, black V-neck shirt, then helps me into my panties and a pair of light jeans. "Your little garden project? Your special iced tea?"

"What are you talk—"

"We're done pretending, okay?"

The way the corners of his eyes crinkle breaks my heart. That's all he lets on, though. His voice is hard as steel. His muscles pulled tight.

"I should've called you sooner, you're right about that. You and I should have a heart-to-heart in person, Rylan. It's way long overdue. Tell me where you are, and I'll come to you."

"You chose the worst timing to start underestimating me, Dad ," she hisses. The brakes of her car screech. "I'm the one coming to you. Tell me where you are, and Dr. Hatchett gets to keep her life. "

A few seconds later, the gagged screaming intensifies. Poor Dr. Hatchett's cries blare in my ears.

"Or not." Rylan giggles, the evil laugh sending chills down my spine, and I clutch onto Marcus's T-shirt. "Depends how long it'll take you to give up your location."

"Rylan, no one's underestimating you," Marcus tells her, then mouths to me, I'll fix this. Don't worry.

I try not to worry. Try to let go of his shirt.

"You haven't. Up until now, no. Paying for your hideout with cash." She giggles again. I'm shocked at how I haven't realized her laughter is so fucking creepy before. "You haven't left a paper trail. No emails, either. Sneaky, sneaky."

"Everything I've done"—he grits his teeth, his gaze a mixture of anger and love—"every single thing, I've done for you. For both of you."

"Plus…" When Rylan hums, another horrified screech echoes from the phone. "I know you have hidden cameras around the house. I couldn't find them, so I did the second-best thing. I angled my laptop to the window. You couldn't have put them there. No hiding on the glass, right? That's also why Milo and I texted each other. Pretty brilliant, huh? Do you underestimate me now, Dad? Huh?"

"Rylan." The one word is a threat and a plea. "Let Dr. Hatchett go. She's innocent. It's about you and me. Let's solve this like the two grown-ups we are."

"She helped you hide!" Another insane shriek. "You were so clever to smash your cellphone. To leave Leighton's behind you. So I went to this bitch here, and she gave me nothing. She gave me no choice but to tap her phone. Bet you didn't think I'd do that, either. Or that I'd rent a car with tinted windows and hold a knife to this bitch's throat."

"I swear to God, Rylan, if you don't let her go, you'll pay for this." His fist curls at his side, the vein on his forearm pumping. "If you touch her, I'm done covering for you."

"Your threats don't work. I'll do far worse until you're all mine again." Rylan starts to make good on her promise, and the captured woman on the other side whimpers. "I could kill her, and no one would see. She'll make such a lovely fertilizer, wouldn't you say?"

A profound sense of sadness takes over Marcus's gaze. The same one he must find in mine.

The Rylan we know is gone.

The Rylan I know wouldn't kidnap and threaten to murder an innocent person. She killed Marcus's girlfriends because—the way she saw it—they weren't innocent. They were so-called threats. She couldn't let them have him.

Dr. Hatchett has done nothing to deserve this.

Rylan can't understand this simple truth.

There's no telling what she'll do to me.

She won't listen to reason.

However Marcus decides to placate her, it won't be an easy feat. Their conversation won't be civil. Won't be resolved in a discussion over dinner.

This is going to be far, far more difficult than either of us has ever imagined.

Maybe the look we're exchanging is one of disappointment. We hoped for a better ending to our story, for the three of us .

We were wrong.

She's really going to murder Dr. Hatchett.

My legs aren't steady anymore. My knees buckle at the thought of Rylan here with a knife pinned to Dr. Hatchett's throat and then to mine. I almost drop and fall on the bed.

Marcus is there to catch me. He hooks an arm around my waist, yanking me to him.

The force of it has me gasping.

A sound I'm quick to regret.

"Oh, hi there, whore." Rylan switches to sounding sweet again. "Just the person I've been looking for. You and I have unfinished business. When I find you, bestie , you're going to wish you would've stuck around for my iced tea."

"Rylan Kingston, watch your mouth." Marcus's grip on me tightens. He's hurting me. He's protecting me.

My dark prince. The man who'll fight for what's right. Even at the cost of going to war with his own daughter. A war that'll break my heart.

"You won't touch her. You're never touching her," Marcus says without shifting his intense gaze from mine. He shakes his head, as if telling me not to believe what he's going to say next. "You can see Leighton—your best friend—on one condition. You have to prove to me you can be civil."

She's never coming over here , he mouths, then adds, Don't say a word. I have this.

Every feature on his face burns with determination. His grip on my waist is a solid promise to protect me.

"It's cute how you think you call the shots." A sharp tearing sound slashes through the otherwise silence in Rylan's idle car. "My best friend. What a fucking joke. Ha, ha, ha. You're fucking hilarious. Leighton, you're a bitch, do you hear me, or are you sucking my dad's cock like the whore you are?"

The next sound we hear is a blood-curdling scream. Way worse than anything we've heard so far.

"My breasts!" Dr. Hatchett cries out. "She's cutting off my breast! Please, Marcus, help me."

Marcus takes a step back, raking a hand through his hair. He's obviously torn about this whole fucked-up situation. So am I. I'm more than torn. I'm wrecked.

This…this…

"It's my fault," I whisper as tears stream down my cheeks.

"No."

"Yes, bestie ," Rylan spits out. "It is your fault. You tempted my dad. I told you…" she growls. "Motherfucker, I told you he's mine. But you just had to flaunt your big tits and seduce him, didn't you?"

"Shut up, Rylan." Marcus launches at the phone, venom dripping from his words. He doesn't yell. Doesn't lose it. He's poised and furious all at once. A dangerous combination I'm familiar with up close. "I wanted her first. Do you hear me? I. Wanted. Leighton. First. I made the first move. I'm the one who's going to get down on one knee and ask her to be my wife."

"Stop, please, stop." I try to shut him up, my hands darting to his mouth.

Marcus is faster than I am. He wraps my middle again, pinning me to his chest while his other hand holds the phone. I fight, but he's too strong. Too focused on his mission .

Dr. Hatchett gurgles as if she's seconds from having a seizure.

" Stop, please, stop ," Rylan mimics me, her voice derisive. "You were always pathetic, Leigh. You would've been raped if it wasn't for me. I saved your sorry ass, and this is how you thank me?"

Dr. Hatchett lets out a sad, low sigh.

"Your bitch doctor has passed out, Dad." Rylan's chuckle isn't borderline psychotic anymore. It's one thousand percent deranged. "It'll be so much easier to play with her now."

I lift my gaze to him, mouthing, Please. Please let her come. I'll hide.

"She has big boobs, this one. Spilling blood all over my rental."

Marcus forms a plan in his head. I can see the cogs turning. How the unhinged side of him surges so we can have a chance against Rylan.

My best friend.

"Send me a picture of Dr. Hatchett admitted to the hospital, Ry." His muscles tighten around me. His lips snap together, forming a thin, pissed-off line. "I'll send you the coordinates then."

"Underestimating me again?" she growls.

"No, sweetheart." His brow furrows, fury pulsing from his body. "I know exactly what you are. You'll dump her on the side of the road if I give you the address. I can't have that now, can I?"

"No, Dad, you can't." The Rylan I remembered resurfaces in an instant. Genuinely sweet. Eager to please her father. Giving me the whiplash from hell. "I'll text you soon. Love you."

"See you soon, Ry," he says behind clenched teeth and ends the call.

"I'm staying here," I blurt out as soon as the line goes dead.

"The hell you are." His anger finally ripples from his voice as well as his body. He grips my chin and brings his face close to mine. "We have enough time. You're going to a hotel. Nonnegotiable."

"I won't leave you alone." I'm no longer crying. I'm scared, mad, and tenacious as fuck. "I won't sit there protected, while you're here. While you might be dead. Fuck, no, Marcus. Fuck. No."

"I can put you in a trance," he warns. "I don't want to go down that road with you. Force my hand, Leighton, and see what I'm capable of. What I'll do to protect you."

"You wouldn't dare," I call him out on his bullshit. "You won't leave me unattended in a trance for hours. You won't leave me like that knowing there's a chance you might not come back for me. And you won't drug me, either. You won't drug what could be our baby."

"Fuck." His grip becomes punishing. Painful. I stand my ground, anyway. "You have to leave. I don't beg anyone, but I'm begging now. Please, Leighton, let me check you into a hotel. Rylan won't kill me. I know that for a fact. Please."

"Never." My fingers clutch onto his shirt, crumpling the fabric. "Hide me somewhere inside the house. At least give me the option to be here and call an ambulance in case she does hurt you. Please."

He puts some space between us, dragging his thumb along the laceration on my collarbone. The blood has dried, yet it doesn't stop him from sucking on his thumb. From embedding me into memory.

"Fine. You'll be in the closet. Behind the clothes racks." He surprises me with a kiss that has me losing my breath. "You're not to come out of there. I have guns here, but I don't want to bring them out. I will not escalate the situation. You'll just have to be a good girl and hide. Do I make myself clear?"

I nod.

"Words."

"You've made yourself clear." Part relief, part anxiety flood through my veins. "I'll stay there until you tell me to come out to talk to Ry. I thought about it, and I'm not afraid. She needs to hear me out."

"Baby." Marcus's hand slides from my cheek and into my hair. "The next time you'll see Rylan is either from behind bars or in a supervised space of a mental hospital. It won't be here. I love my daughter and I love you. That's the best solution. Promise me that for the sake of both of you, you will not leave the closet today."

An icy shiver clogs my throat. Choking me.

Marcus needs me to nod, and I do.

He might also need me to save him.

And when he does, I have no doubt I'll be there for him. I'll do anything for this man.

There's only one Marcus in this world. This one sick, sweet, and unhinged man is everything I've ever wanted. Everything I'll ever want .

I refuse to pass another second on this planet without him.

Whether he likes it or not, I'll be here, ready to fight. Ready to make sure nothing and no one takes him away from me.

Never.