Chapter 48

CHAPTER

FORTY-EIGHT

EDMUND

It’s been a little over three months since Michales’ death. The candlelight vigils for the women beneath The Preserves have ended. News vans and the press have slowly dwindled out of town.

Excluding the few wild as fuck conspiracy theories Grant found online, there hasn’t been any suspicion regarding the validity of the narrative we told about his death. While we all knew he was determined to find us guilty for the things we had done, none of us knew how deep it had gone.

Those who worked with him and knew him well had been watching him fall apart for years. His ex-wife. His kids. Every member of the Adelaide Cove Police Department. The locals who have known him their entire lives.

They watched his obsession with us become all-consuming. A compulsion, eating away at every shred of the life he once had. The life he had before the five of us moved to town. The five of us granted excitement to his otherwise mundane and unremarkable existence.

His complete detachment from society, coupled with his incessant need to prove to everyone the wrongs we were committing, simply made believing that he was the devil in disguise that much easier for everyone.

His death was our new beginning, giving all of us a new life without many of our prior indiscretions hanging over our heads.

And bizarrely, Grant, Samuel, and I diving into some semblance of domestication.

Driving up to Twilight Bluff, I am not remotely surprised to pull in behind Harper’s white Maserati Ghibli. She’s practically lived here during daylight hours, overseeing every bit of the build. Meticulously managing every single detail to ensure that everything is absolutely perfect.

As with most times I’ve found her here, her arms are full of flooring, paint, and fixture samples, trying to finalize her plans. There’s enough noise with the ongoing construction that I am able to sneak behind her with ease. Snaking my arms around her waist, I pull her back to me. She startles slightly before I manage to fully plant my kiss the crook of her neck.

“You’re jumpy, little rose,” I whisper against her ear while refusing to let her go. “Do you have a lot of men stealing an embrace when I’m not around?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but Big Jim over there can be quite handsy at times.”

I whip my head around to see who she’s talking about, and she grips my face and turns it back to her.

“ I’m kidding. The way you look at anyone who lets their eyes linger on me a tad too long, I can’t fathom there is a man in this town that would have the balls to actually lay a hand on me.”

She isn’t wrong. She’s mine.

While I do enjoy showing her off— because she is fucking gorgeous —I detest when men have the gall to think they have a chance with her.

With any man who tried, I would have no problem putting him six feet under. I’d dig up the foundation with my bare hands and lay him beside Michales. A collection of men who had the audacity to think they deserved to know what my little rose feels like.

A sly smile tugs at my lips from the thought. I may have been granted the opportunity to start a new life, but it doesn’t mean I’ve become a fucking saint.

“Come on.” I slip my fingers into hers. “It’s time to go home.”

“Five more minutes.” She squeezes my hand and fights against my pull.

“No.” My voice is deep and authoritative.

“Eddie?” she coos playfully.

Stepping to where she stands steadfast, I slip my hand around her throat and place a rough kiss against her lips. Lingering close and keeping my voice low, I whisper, “I said it’s time to go. If I have to throw you over my shoulder and drag you home to play with my sweet little cunt, you’re going to be very sorry.”

“Fine,” she huffs. “Just let me grab my ba?—”

Her words are cut short with a squeal as I grab her waist, hoist her over my shoulder, and carry her back to my car. Not caring who sees, I turn my head and sink my teeth into the perfectly round ass cheek before me.

I expect her to yelp from the force, but instead, I’m met with a lusty groan. Taking a deep breath, I manage to maintain a steady gate as I make my way to my Bacalar.

I don’t put her down or open her door. I pull her into the driver’s seat with me and shut the door.

She’s going to regret not listening the entire way home.