Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

I carefully remove the bandage wrapped around my hand and drop the bloodied gauze into the trash. Lifting my hand, I study the cleaned cuts and bruises, wincing as I flex my fingers.

The sound of my fist connecting with Kellan's face isn't a sound I've been able to forget easily. But when I think about his words in Laurel's ear, it was all worth it. The blood and pain shed were all worth it.

I haven't heard from Laurel since she texted me letting me know she was going to stay until they moved Roe into her own room. I don't know what the next step is or where we go from here but my heart breaks thinking of the future. The same heavy feeling falls on my chest and my shoulders, the way it did with my mother. It's like walking through a pitch-black room, searching for a light switch, but none exists.

"How is Laurel's sister?" Jude asks.

I look down at my phone resting on the edge of my bathroom sink.

"I haven't heard from Laurel since earlier, but last I heard, she's stable now. They're moving her up to the oncology floor. From what the doctor made it sound like, she's probably going to be there a while."

"Man," Jude sighs on the other end of the line. "I feel terrible for Monroe and Laurel. Thinking about what they're going through reminds me of?—"

"Don't," I cut in. My chest squeezes. "I'm sorry. I just…" I swallow. "I know where you're going, man, and we don't need to go over it again."

"I'm sorry, Lennon."

I don't answer him. The image of my mother in the same hospital bed as Monroe comes to mind, just like my nightmare.

"You have to stop blaming yourself."

I snap my head back to my phone, wondering if I must have accidently put him on a video call and he was able to read the expression I must have been giving for him to think I was thinking about our mother.

"Blaming myself for what?" I ask, shrugging off his comment. "Monroe didn't want anyone other than Laurel to know about her sickness. I don't blame myself for what happened tonight."

"I'm not talking about Monroe. I'm talking about Mom."

"I said I didn't want to talk about this."

"You did, and you say that as if it's going to stop me." He scoffs. "You're my brother, and I know you. You've blamed yourself for years for the decision you had to make."

"You're right," I fume, flaring my nostrils. "I do blame myself. She's dead because of me."

"No. She's dead because of the cancer, Lennon." He pauses, and I hear faint crying in the background. Must be my niece, Abbey. "Does Laurel know about your nightmares?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "I didn't have one until a few nights after our wedding, but I haven't had as many since. They come every now and then, but not nearly as often as before."

Abbey's cries grow louder. I hear Jude's footsteps and then his loud shushing fills the speaker. "Shh, it's okay, baby girl." He soothes her. She coos, immediately calming down when she hears her dad. "I wasn't a fan of you marrying Laurel for the sake of the company, but I can see your marriage is different. She's good for you, Len. Laurel is good for you."

Heat rises in my cheeks. I can't help but smile. "I know."

Abbey makes more fussing noises in the background. "I need to get Abbey back to sleep. Please keep me posted on how Roe is doing. And if you and Laurel need anything, Victoria and I are here for you."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Oh, and Len?"

"Yeah?"

"You really should stop blaming yourself. Mom wouldn't want you to. If she thought you couldn't have made the choice and been able to live with it, she wouldn't have trusted you to make that decision." He clears his throat. "You deserve to be happy, Len. It's what she would have wanted."

"Yeah," I sigh. It feels too heavy. All of it. "I'll keep you updated. Give Abbey a kiss for me."

"I will," Jude says before ending our call.

I stare at my phone for several minutes, letting the silence sink in. Jude is right, it's not what our mother would have wanted. All I need to focus on now is being there for Laurel.

Steam fills the bathroom as hot water flows out of the shower head. I step in and allow the water to slide down my back. It stings, but I welcome the relief it brings. I allow the day to unfold, crashing down on me like a tidal wave. It feels like it's never-ending. Only hours ago, I was back in my mother's house telling Laurel I love her. Now, I'm back at my apartment in Boston, staring at the bruises on my hand caused from hitting her brother.

I face the tiled wall and press my hands against it. I lower my head and stare at the floor. Water drips over my head. I close my eyes and think about Laurel, my heart swelling with love for her.

Seeing her in pain physically causes my own. She's a part of my soul. We're one, and until tonight, I didn't realize how she's not only a part of my soul, but she's also completely consumed it. She's claimed it as her own, and I have gladly fallen to both of my knees, begging her to take me.

My ribs expand with every breath, and my spine tingles when a hand slides across my side.

Two small arms slink under mine, wrapping around me. I feel Laurel press the side of her face to my back. I can't see her, but I feel her naked breasts press against my spine. I remove one of my hands from the wall and slide it across her arm wrapped around me.

I don't move, feeling her body contract against mine. Her breaths are labored, as if she's playing every single moment of tonight out.

I'm relieved she's finally home, but I know she hasn't stopped thinking about tonight.

"Fred and Kellan showed up to the hospital," she says over the sound of rushing water. Her lips move against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. "I told Fred I'm sending him my resignation letter on Monday. I quit the firm."

I drop my other hand and spin around. Laurel's arms unravel, falling at her sides. She stands under the stream of water. Her long dark hair clings to her face. Streaks of mascara still cover her cheeks. Dark sparkling eyeshadow that once covered the lids of her eyes has now faded and spread out past her eyebrows. Her bottom lip quivers as her shoulders slump with defeat. I know how much her job meant to her. How important being a lawyer is to her. She wrote it in her terms and conditions in fear I would ask her to leave or control her like her first husband.

I quickly place both my hands around her face.

"Oh, sweet nothings." I run my thumbs under her eyes, wiping the dried mascara clean. "I'm sorry."

"I…" She hiccups, nervously biting down on her bottom lip. "I know it was the right thing to do."

I don't speak. I let my hands roam her face, mentally taking note of every lash and every flicker in her eyes. She looks into mine, creating a dance between them. "Thank you for what you did tonight. I know I said it at the hospital, but I want to say it to you again. Now."

"You're my wife, Laurel," I tell her. "I would do anything for you."

Slowly, she lifts her hand, and with the tip of her index finger, she traces the letters under my feather tattoo. I follow her finger before looking back up. Her eyes meet mine.

"I love you, Lennon."

My heart plummets to my stomach. The sensation is unlike anything I've ever felt before. I feel weightless, like I'm somehow floating outside of my own body. No one has ever told me they loved me, and I've never done the same in return.

"I've always loved you," she says, pressing her palm against my ribs, covering the tattoo. "Ever since I saw you looking down at me in the backseat of your car, with your black heart, I loved you."

My chest feels like it's been ripped open, and Laurel has wrapped her fingers around my heart. I told her I didn't want her to say it until there were no longer any secrets between us. I didn't so much as care Laurel was keeping secrets. Everyone has them, including me. But if Laurel and I were going to be able to move past our contractual marriage, we needed to be able to face our feelings head on. Admitting your love for someone when all you've been raised to be is unfeeling, doesn't exactly come naturally. But somehow, Laurel made it as easy as breathing. Loving her is as easy as the oxygen pumping into my lungs.

I inhale a sharp breath before slamming her mouth against mine. She presses both her hands at my sides, digging her fingernails into my tattoo. She moans before I break our kiss long enough for me to answer her.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say those words." I kiss her again. "You own me, Laurel Eleanor Harding. Mind, body, and soul. You're not only mine, but I am yours." I grip the back of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss. I'm thirsty for more, never quite feeling satisfied with one kiss. "Utterly, completely, and wholly yours."

"I love you," she whispers against my mouth.

I wrap my arm around her and spin her until her back lands against the cool tile. My hand quickly trails up her bare leg, slipping between her warm thighs. I slide my fingers between her warm, wet folds, plunging three fingers inside her. She grips my shoulders and tilts her head back, gasping. I hook my fingers, pressing into the spot I know will quickly send her over the edge if I keep going.

"Tell me I'm yours," I say, my cock springing to life. My thumb finds her clit, pressing down.

She licks her lips as water streams down her face. Seeing her this way, reacting against my touch, spurs something inside me. Water streams down her face to her neck. I stick my tongue out and lick it before pulling away from her. She lowers her chin, staring into my eyes as I work my fingers in and out of her.

"You're mine." She growls.

"And you're mine," I agree. I quickly pull my fingers out of her. My patience has worn thin.

I shut the water off and wrap my arms around her waist. She wraps her legs around me as I carry her out of the shower and toward our bedroom.

She's frantic as she drapes her arms around my neck, burying her face into the hollow of mine. She kisses and licks and bites. She's all over me, and when she sinks her teeth delicately into my collarbone, my cock twitches with need.

I drop her onto the bed and climb over her, greedy for more.

Her wet hair soaks into the sheets. It's dark in our bedroom aside from the lamp on my nightstand and the city lights behind me. Laurel's naked body is covered in highlights and shadows. Her arms are lifted above her head, and her breasts are on full display for me. She's damp with drops of water, so I lean down and lick them from her nipples. She arches her back as she fists my hair. She grips my strands and tugs on them, pulling me up to her. With a fiery stare, I look up at her, watching her writhe with need.

There's still a sadness in her eyes, considering the night she's had with her sister, but every kiss and every touch I offer are like a balm to her wounds. Wounds I can only see behind her indigo eyes.

I'm between her legs. She grinds her sweet pussy against me.

"Tell me something sweet," she requests, her sad eyes widening. She's begging to feel. Begging to know the world isn't as ugly as it appears. She wants me to remind her of all the love and of all the good that tends to get overshadowed.

My face is peeking below her still-damp breasts. I blow a gentle breath over her nipple before moving onto the other.

The corner of my mouth tilts into a smirk. "I fell in love with your eyes first."

Her mouth falls open as I give her my first sweet. She inhales a shaky, fevered breath, followed by a moan.

I lower myself even farther, bringing my mouth to her belly button. I press my lips to her hip and flick my gaze up again. "The way your cheeks blushed red with embarrassment after telling me that removing the feather from your hair was sweet made me fall even harder."

Laurel bucks her hips. I love seeing her this way. Her feet slide up and down along the mattress as she tries to cling to anything that will keep her sane. She's begging for more, and I plan on giving it to her.

"Are you telling me every sweet from that night?" She gasps, struggling to catch her breath.

"Yes," I growl, crawling back up along her body. I plant a kiss on her hip bone again before making my way up her side, then along the full curve of her breast. I kiss her collarbone and then her neck. Bringing my face in line with hers, I bare my deepest darkest secret. "I've cataloged every sweet from every moment I've been with you."

"I doubt there's very many," she says, a smile playing on her lips.

"I have enough to tell you for the rest of our lives."

With my right hand, I reach down and grab her left. I hold it between us as I turn her hand over and press my lips to the diamond. I rub my thumb over its sharp edges before looking into Laurel's eyes. "This was my mother's ring."

Her eyes immediately soften, and for a moment, I worry I've scared her. I've never seen her face as shocked as it is now. Her eyes dart to her hand before she swings them back. "It was?" Her words get caught in her throat, full of emotion.

"Yes." I nod, swallowing. "She gave it to me after she found out about her cancer diagnosis. She said to give it to the one I couldn't live without. The one I would be able to tell all my sweets to, who would be able to do the same in return."

"I don't even know what to say." She's admiring the ring with tears lining her eyes. "I loved it when you gave it to me, but knowing the meaning behind it..." Her voice wanes.

"It was meant to be yours," I tell her. "Always."

"I love you." She gasps, her eyes dancing between mine.

I pull my hips back and slide my cock along her folds. Her wetness coats my length as I let out a deep groan.

"And I love you." I reach down and plunge myself into her. This time I take it slow. "Feel every inch," I tell her. She lifts her legs and presses her bent knees into my sides. "I want you to feel every inch as I fill you. I want you to know I've always been yours."

"And me..." she moans. "Yours."

I slide myself out of her slowly before plunging back in. My cock swells, and heat expands across my body.

I watch Laurel's face as I move above her, and I allow her love to fill me up, making sure I return as much as I can to her.

The future is uncertain, and if I think on it too long, my stomach grows uneasy. But ever since I've known what it feels to lose the ones you love the most, I plan on savoring every moment and every sweet.

Because loving Laurel is more than I and my little black heart deserve.

And even if I despised my father to my very core, in the end, he's given me the greatest gift.

A life with Laurel and all her sweet nothings.