20. For You

TWENTY

FOR YOU

A nd then there were two.

Tommy is dead. Unlike the other murders, Clay made it quick so that he wouldn't suffer… much. Even so, my former lover turned his head, watching me with adoration in his dark blue eyes until the moment life winked out of them.

I didn't turn away from him. Unlike Chase, I owed Tommy that much.

He loved me. Tommy Gillis loved me enough to wait. To be a shoulder to cry on, and the man who accepted that he would always be second place in my heart. He loved me enough to take whatever scraps I tossed his way, even knowing that I would always be Clayton Rivers' wife.

He loved me—just not more than Clay did.

His eyes were wide open and still staring after he gasped his last breath. Clay bent low to close Tommy's lids, then clicked his tongue when he saw that Tommy never even had the chance to flip open his switchblade before Clay sliced his throat.

Rising up, he looks at the blood on his knife. A few quick swipes against his dark jeans and the blade is clean again.

He clears his throat, and when he speaks, I can't tell if it's bloodlust from his recent kill or actual lust for his wife that has his voice so damn husky. "So, am I forgiven yet, baby?"

I don't pretend not to know what he's asking me. But, instead of answering him, I say, "Five lives. Aaron. Vee. Tyler. Summer. Tommy. One for every year you made me live without you. Think that's enough?"

Something about my voice makes it clear to both of us that I don't.

His head shoots over to meet my gaze. "I'd give you the whole fucking world if that's what you want. Slaughter them all and lay their heads at your feet, Cyn. I worship you. I always have. Last night was just the start. I'll do anything for you."

My lips curve. Clay… he's always known the right things to say to catch my attention.

He worships me?

Good .

I point to the grass. "Then get on your knees."

He doesn't even bother sheathing his knife. Tossing it to his side, he goes to the ground, watching me closely, waiting to see what I'm going to do.

I can't help myself. The first time I ever slept with Clay, I did it along this very lake. It was his idea, but I won't pretend that I was forced into it. Blackmailed, sure. Manipulated, definitely. But though I was loyal to Tommy until my mother told me she was remarrying and I snapped , when Clay stepped out of the trees and said, "I saw what you did," and I offered him whatever he wanted to keep quiet, I never in a million years thought he'd want me .

It started out as sex. I refused to dump Tommy when I wasn't even sure that Clay wouldn't get what he wanted, then turn me in when he got bored. But that was when I was too oblivious to realize that my boyfriend's best friend had been secretly obsessed with me since freshman year. By the time we were seniors at GHS, he was sure he'd never get his chance—until he took it.

In a way, we were like Summer and Tommy, weren't we? I gave Clay my body for his silence. Even before I went to live at the Rivers' house—just another way he manipulated me, getting me close and tearing me away from Tommy—I knew what I was doing was wrong. I was cheating on Tommy, fucking his best friend behind his back.

But it was only sex then. I had no intention of falling for Clay, and since I didn't plan on killing again, I had to do what I had to do to keep him quiet.

Then he demanded more from me. He demanded all of me. I ended things with Tommy when I admitted that I wanted Clay for myself, and knowing that I was the only one Clay loved… but he left me, and I'm not sure if I can ever get over that.

So I made him kill Tommy. Why not? It's only fair he's the one to make sacrifices this time.

Still. My blood is undeniably pumping. He chose me , didn't he? Without a second thought, this new incarnation of Clay slaughtered his oldest friend, and he did it for me . He loves me, and the thrill of being so fucking essential to him that he'd discard a decade's long plan because I demanded it…

I fucked Clay after I killed my mom. Now I'm going to fuck him after he killed Tommy.

And my ‘dead' husband isn't going to stop me.

He's on his knees. Folding my sleep shirt under mine, I lower myself until I'm in front of him. My fingers dance across the bulge behind his jeans; like me, it looks like a little murder turns him on, too. Flicking open his button, tugging down the zipper easily… his hard cock all but jumps into my waiting palm.

I close my fingers around him and tug.

His eyes flutter closed. " Cyn …"

"You crept into my bed. You fucked me and never let me know you were there. You got me on my knees…" I twist the head of his cock, enjoying the control I have over this killer as his eyes snap back open. "You made me crawl, Clay."

He smirks. "You loved it, baby. Admit it."

Of course I did. Even when I was sure he snapped and wasn't the man I married, when Clayton Rivers says crawl, I listen.

But I refuse to admit it. Not until he makes the last five years up to me… "No."

"You love me. I know you do. Tell me, Cyn. Tell me I'm still your husband."

Is that a hint of panic I hear? He deserves it. "‘Til death do we part. That's what we promised, right? Everyone thinks you're dead."

"Then I'll marry you again," snarls Clay, his hand going to my throat. He collars it, tugging my head down so that our mouths are inches apart. "You and me, we go on that ferry. We get the fuck out of Gullhaven. We start over… I'll give you the wedding of your dreams, leave this island behind. But you are my wife. Not even Tommy could've changed that."

I shiver, jerking out of his hold. "What would the next five years have looked like? The three of us together?"

"If it's the only way I could have you," he swears.

I actually believe that. Or, rather, that Clay believes he means it when he says that.

Hooking my leg around his hip, I angle his cock so that it's lodged at the entrance of my pussy, then sink down on him. Once I'm seated on his lap, I wrap my arms around his neck. "And what if I don't consider myself your wife anymore?"

Clay tilts his head back, breaking my hold on him now as he bares his throat. "Then kill me," he whispers, the sound ragged and almost daring. "Find my knife. Carve my heart out of my chest. At least if I die now, I die fucking the only woman I could ever love."

My elbows rest on his shoulders, my fingers curving his cheeks. "Kill you? Why would I kill you? I just got you back, married or not. But if you ever try to leave me again…"

He leans into my touch. "I never should've let Tommy convince me I had to. I was young. Stupid." His hands move to the small of my back, clutching me to him. "Fuck, Cyn, I was guilty . He was my best friend. My goddamn brother. And what did I do? I obsessed over his girl." He squeezes me through my shirt, bucking up as he bottoms out inside of me, forcing me to take everything he has to offer. "When I found a way to make you mine, I took it. You cheated on him with me because I made you, and I stole you away because I needed to?—"

"You stole me because I wanted to be stolen." Still caressing his skin, I trail my fingers down his blood-spattered face, stroking his jaw, then settling my hands around his neck again. As I rock on him, squeezing his cock, I dig my thumbs into his throat—and Clay groans. I smile. "You wanted me more. That's what counted. I wanted to be the most important person to someone. Tommy had his family. His friends. Summer ," I spit out, using my nails to jab into his skin.

Clay quickens his thrusts, pounding up into my pussy as I draw blood. "Fuck, yes, Cyn. Do that again ."

No. I pull out my nails, even as I'm careful not to lose the connection of his dick inside of me, before patting the crescent-shaped marks I left behind. "You chose him over me."

"Never—"

I stop moving. "Liar. Five years, Clayton. You abandoned me for five fucking years . Because you promised Tommy he could have a chance. But what about your promise to me?"

"I told you. I did it for you."

"Prove it," I repeat.

I taunted Clay with that earlier and he killed Tommy. What will he do now?

Clay drops his head to my neck, suckling my skin. He shifts his hips enough to make me fall forward on his lap, reminding me that I'm stuffed full of him. His teeth graze the side of my throat. I wanted to hurt him. Unless I'm imagining it, my murderous husband is trying to mark me with a hickey like we're seventeen again.

Angling my head, giving him better access to my neck, I let him.

He laps at my skin, the heat of his tongue sending shivers through me. My pussy contracts on his length, Clay sucking in a breath as I squeeze him again.

"You loved him," he grates out at last. "When we were kids, you chose him first. Would you have picked me if I didn't force you to? If I didn't blackmail you into giving me all you could until I earned your heart?"

Would I have? I don't know, but it doesn't matter. From the moment Clay stepped out of the shadows, making it clear he watched me drown my mother, I had no choice. There was only one thing Clay wanted for his silence: me . First, in his house. Later, in his bed. He threatened to tell the truth about what happened on Halo Island if I didn't follow him to New Jersey, and by the time he asked me to be his wife—and I saw just how far he would go to make me love him—I never wanted to be separated from this man.

But Clay and Tommy had other plans, didn't they?

"I married you once," I remind him.

"Yeah, Cyn. And I told Tommy the trade was off once you had my ring on your finger." Lifting his head, Clay dips his chin so that he can find my hand. It's on his shoulder, and he reaches up, grabbing my left one with his right. "You are my wife. I couldn't share?—"

I shake his hand off, then plant mine against his chest. My right hand is still on his shoulder. Using Clay's body as leverage, I start to fuck him. Not just ride him. Not just sit on his lap, keeping his cock warm out in the late October breeze. The lake's chill has my arms covered in goosebumps, while the heat of Clay's strong body is all I need to stay hot, and after I purposely start bouncing on top of him, moving so quickly, he can barely match my rhythm, sweat starts beading up along my brow.

Clay wasn't expecting that. But if he thought that I'd forgiven him already, then he's forgotten exactly who his wife is . I'm not trying to get off myself, but as soon as he lays me out on the damp grass, switching our positions so that he's the one chasing his own nut, I slap him across the face with all the strength I can muster.

Did I need any further proof that the last five years apart changed my husband? Not really, but I get it in the way he reacts to me hitting him. Bracing his hands on both sides of my upper arms, caging me in, he comes with a roar, my name echoing across an island where only the dead can hear him.

Once Clay empties himself inside of me, he clutches my jaw, using his fingers to work my mouth open. And it is work. I'm not going to make it easy for him, not when my emotions are still a twisted mess, but as soon as he forces my lips apart, he slips his tongue into my mouth. It's a possessive kiss. A claiming kiss. The taste of him is so familiar, and the hint of metallic rust flooding my mouth after I purposely bit the edge of his tongue has me just about coming myself.

And that makes me furious .

Clay deepens the kiss after I bite him, but as soon as I stop kissing him back, he pulls away. His brow is furrowed, and for the first time since he removed the black plastic mask, I really feel like I'm looking at my husband again.

He's leaning on one elbow. One leg is thrown over mine, keeping me partly under him as his spent cock slips out of me.

"Baby?"

I spent years wishing I could be his ‘baby' again. And now…

I grit my teeth. "I don't get it. If your stupid fucking deal was off, then what the hell was the last five years, Clay? You faked your death. You made me believe you were gone . That I'd never see you again. Because you chose Tommy, not me ."

Lightning flashes across his face. "I told you, Cyn. Never ."

I wish I could believe that —but when the evidence is right in front of me, I can't.

I shove him away from me.

Clay rolls onto his back; he obviously hadn't expected my push or he would've held firm, keeping me pinned beneath him. Once he realizes that I'm starting to climb up, moving away from him, he shoots out his hand, lashing me around my wrist.

I don't resist. As he tugs me so that I'm sitting across his lap now, I let him get away with that, too.

"The deal was off. Listen to me… I called him. Said I was sorry, but I couldn't do it. Shit, Cyn… I was already losing my fucking mind and I hadn't even left yet. I thought… there were times I thought I should just kill Tommy then and there so I could keep you for myself. He kept saying it was only five years, right? I got five to make you love me. He gets five to win you back. Then I reappear and we both get to have you. But I was like, fuck that ?—"

Know what? I can honestly see two horny teenagers coming up with this insane idea. It was so simple, right? If I love them both, won't I be happy to call them both mine? But I was already so head over heels for Clay by the time we were married, he had to have known that I could never love anyone more than my husband.

"What changed?"

The muscle in Clay's cheek tics. "You were nice to him. When we went back to Gullhaven after my parents died. You were so happy to see him."

We've got to stop meeting at funerals …

I blink, some of my fury banking a little at that. "Clay. Seriously? He was there to pay his respects to your mom and dad. It was the first time I saw him after I left Gullhaven. It was awkward as fuck, babe, but I was nice to Tommy—for you."

He fists his hand, almost as though searching for the knife he left near Tommy's corpse. "I convinced myself he was right. It was only fair. I had my turn. Now he got his… but that meant I had to die. Even for you, Cyn, I couldn't fake wanting a divorce. To give you your chance with Tommy, I had to fake my death instead.

"What was five years compared to forever? You'd love us both… but it broke me, baby. Watching you live your life without me. Standing outside the window, watching you fuck Tommy… I shouldn't have blamed you before. If our plan worked, you were supposed to. But I was willing to share you with Tommy if I had to. No one else."

I use my thumb to rub off a few of the stray droplets of blood from Tommy's arterial spray. "There's no one left, Clay. You killed them all." Slipping the thumb between my lips, I swipe the dried blood with my tongue. I smile around the digit. "You're right. You did it all for me."

"Like I said. I'll do anything for you." He holds me tight, clutching me to him. Even if I wanted to get away, I couldn't. "Come on, Cyn. I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I think I've lost my mind, and I only found it when you fucked me just now. It's you and me. It's always been you and me. So… forgive me?"

Can I? "Not yet."

A ragged breath escapes Clay. "Cyn?—"

"Not saying I won't. Five lives for five years without you… that's a good start. Proving how much you love me… that's a better one."

"I just wanted to give you everything you wanted," he tells me.

I have my husband back. The mean girls who made my time in high school a living hell? Gone. Anyone who might've known my secret? Dead men tell no tales, right? And Chase… the vindictive, remorseless part of me I've kept hidden these last ten years can't help but snicker to think that I pulled the trigger.

Mercy? Fuck that.

I got revenge—and Clay gave it to me.

He loves me.

"All I want is you."

We're trapped on an island with ghosts. Tomorrow morning, Mr. Mulligan is coming with the ferry. He's expecting two guests to leave—sorry, Tommy—and I'll be packed and ready to go with Clay. After that… I don't know what'll happen. That's something my mastermind of a murderous husband will have to figure out. After all, he and Tommy planned this. Tommy arranged for every single one of our ‘friends' to come on this island, knowing he was sending them to their graves.

Clay actually used a fictitious LLC to buy Halo Island and set it up so that he'd be the perfect trap for all of us.

But now that they've done what they set out to do, what was their plan when Clay's murder spree was done and it was the three of us left standing? I'm not sure, but as I lean back, tilting my head invitingly as I part my lips for my husband's kiss, I don't care.

I have him back—and that's all I'll ever want.