Chapter 20 Let Her Run

— 20 —

LET HER RUN

Oz

I CRAFTED MY own coffin when I tasted Gemma's blood. I climbed inside it while she fucked me and closed the lid when she came on my cock. Beneath my knife, her fear was heavy, pounding through each heartbeat like a hammer driving nails to seal my casket. Then she dug a hole and buried me, sealed my fate within the pulsing embrace of her warm pussy as I spilled inside her.

Life as I know it is over.

I went too far.

Our privileged way of life exists within the Gates because we have rules, structure, order, and consequences. The land around our desert haven is occupied by men who live unrestricted, men without order, who do as they please. I lived that way for years before daring to dream of a better life.

I wanted a life that meant more than just fighting to survive the day, while at the same time, secretly wishing that day would be my last. The wandering lawless live without restraint and they suffer for it. Without community—without structure and shared resources—the odds of survival are low.

We have the means not only to survive but to thrive, and it's all because of this community—this privileged province I established from the ground up. The resources we've been granted to live as well as we do are solely because of our partnership with Prosperity—the city that sustains us—and that partnership lives and dies on our behavior. So good behavior is not just expected but obligatory; it's written into our contracts with the city and signed with our fucking blood.

The rules we have are necessary, and we enforce dire consequences when they're broken. But I bent the rules, twisted them nearly to the point of snapping…

I'm on the verge of fucking snapping.

And it's all because of Gemma—my stunning little desert rose.

I found her in the blinding sunlight, and she found the darkness I hide.

If I were in a rational state of mind, I'd calmly collect her things, go find her, and walk her over to the holding house where she'll be safe. I've already traumatized her, pushed beyond her limits, and broken the vaults inside her mind. I've used her, abused her, and made her fear me beyond reason.

Yet, despite all that, I can't bring myself to do the reasonable thing. I'm dangerously obsessed with her. I want her in a way that's breaking me. I want every little piece of her for myself.

I need her to be mine.

I pull on my boxer briefs and a pair of jeans before slipping out of the bedroom and walk barefoot down the hallway, knife still in hand. When I reach the top of the staircase, I pause, listening for movement to assess where she's gone.

A few seconds tick by before I hear a hurried whisper and the familiar sound of Angel's tail thumping against the wall.

Is she trying to take my fucking dog?

That spiteful, beautiful little bitch.

I wait at the top of the staircase with the knife held down by my side. The light from my bedroom casts a glow down the hall, shining just enough light down the steps to see her when she passes a few seconds later. The gray faded forms of Gemma and Angel appear in the faint frame of light as they creep past.

"Hey, pink," I call down to her.

She freezes, turns her head, and looks up at me.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going with my dog?"

She bolts.

I casually jog down the steps.

I'd turned off the lights in the kitchen and living room before I went up to bed—the first floor is dark aside from the dim glow of moonlight through the windows. There's just enough glow to see shapes and shadows moving in the dark.

As I step into the sunken living room, I hear a click when she unlocks one of the deadbolts securing the front door. I don't feel the need to rush because it's one of three deadbolt locks, and she'll still need to find and unlatch the other two.

I cross behind the couch to the sound of a second click . I step up from the living room into the foyer, then stop to watch Gemma's dark shadowed outline at my front door. She's frantic in her attempt to open it, but Angel merely stands beside her, shaking the entirety of her backend with wild excitement.

I can't even stay mad at Gemma for trying to take my Angel.

Look how fucking happy she is…

Angel doesn't know Gemma wants to take her away from me. She probably thinks she's going on a Daddy Oz-approved nighttime adventure walk with a new friend.

Another click makes three unlocked deadbolts.

It's impressive that she found them all in the dark.

But did she remember—

The door opens, barely parts the frame, then slams shut again.

Nope, she didn't remember.

"I think you forgot the chain lock."

Gemma makes a sound that's some combination of a scream, a yelp, and a grunt… It's fucking cute. "Shit!"

I stalk toward her as she struggles to find the chain and unlatch it in the dark.

I close in.

I reach out and grip her arm.

I drag her from the door, throw her back against the wall, and pin her body there with mine.

"I think you would've made it out if you hadn't stopped for Angel. I should be pissed at you for trying to take her, but fuck, just look at her." I glance over my shoulder at Angel. "She's as obsessed with you as I am, and that's the real problem here. I needed you to leave, baby. I needed you to escape. I needed you to get the fuck out of my house before I barricade us both inside and refuse to leave." I shift closer. "I needed you to be faster. I'm out of control with you here. In less than a day, you've upended my entire fucking world."

Her breaths are unsteady, quick, and heavy. "I can still go," she whispers. "I can still leave. Just step back, and I'll leave. I'll move faster. I'll get away, okay?"

I slowly shake my head. "I think it's too late."

"It's not… What do you mean?" Her voice shakes, lacking confidence and power.

I can't say I like the way it sounds. It makes me uneasy. It unsettles me, because I know I'm the one who brought her to this point. But maybe it's good that I feel a moment of unease… It means I haven't entirely devolved into a predator acting solely on the instinct to conquer.

Maybe the fear in her voice will stop me from grabbing hold of her before I drop over the edge. Maybe she can shine just enough light to keep me from falling into the darkness. Maybe she can still escape before I drag her down with me to the bottom of the black abyss.

"I need you to leave."

"I-I'm trying to… If you move, I can leave."

"I was supposed to protect you." My hand skims her waist as I drop my forehead to touch hers. "I brought you here to save you, but just look at what I did to you."

"You can make it right. Open the door for me."

She's nearly crying; I can hear it in her voice.

I hate it as much as I love it.

"Please, just let me go. Oz, please …"

Fuck.

She's finally begging, but it's not in the way I wanted.

Her hands slip between us, and she places them on my chest. "Ozzy, please." She sniffles. "Open the door and let me run."

Let her run?

Let her run…

Oh, I can let her run…

I don't trip over the edge and fall into the abyss… The darkness itself climbs out to greet me, rips me from the light, cloaks me in shadows, and drags me straight to the bottom.

I kiss her forehead, then dip my head to level our eyes. "You're right, I should let you run."

Her eyes dart wildly across my face, scanning every feature with skepticism. I step back beside the door and reach up to unlatch the chain lock—it clinks , then clatters against the wood. At the sound, Gemma pushes off the wall, rushes forward to stand in front of me with her chin raised high, and her eyes open wide.

I raise the knife, gently touching the tip beneath her chin as I bend. The tips of our noses nearly touch as I watch a silent tear slip from the corner of her eye.

"You're gonna run from me, baby. But I need you to run fast… Because if you don't run fast enough, I just might catch you. And you don't wanna know how dark this gets if I catch you."

It's a threat.

It's a promise.

It's the actualization of my greatest fear.

I've spiraled out of control, and I might destroy us both.

I step back, open the door, and fling it wide.

I twist my head, glance out through the doorway, and all I see is darkness—where she and I belong.

"Run, baby… Run ."

Gemma turns, runs, then vanishes into the dark.

—

To Be Continued in

Lawless, Book 2

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