Epilogue

MEMORIES stream into my mind as I cast one last look around our apartment. This has been our home for over half a year, and so much has happened in that short span of time.

Flint quit his job at the FBI and now works freelance. I’m still not entirely sure what his current job entails, but I trust him when he says his work is on a need-to-know basis.

Sunlight is still with us (naturally!), but now he’s a big brother to Chico, a three-year-old Dachshund who also suffered a not-so-good life with his first owner. It makes me sad every time I remember the patches of burnt skin that marred his body when he first came to us. But that’s all gone now, and just like Chico and Sunlight, Flint and I don’t allow our hearts to be poisoned by bitterness and grudges.

Judge not, lest ye be judged.

Forgive as you have been forgiven.

Because vengeance is the Lord’s, and Miguel Dantes’ murder in the Cayman Islands two months ago is proof of this.

Former associates of Flint were the ones who broke the news to us, but the knowledge only made my heart heavy. Even Flint admitted reluctantly that the other man’s death gave him no pleasure.

My heart still isn’t soft like yours, angel.

But that night changed us.

And because every day of our lives feels undeserved...

I’m just hoping he had a chance to repent.

Miguel’s existence has always been like a shadow hanging over our lives, and while it pains me a little to admit this, his death has freed me from my secret fears. I no longer suffer from nightmares of Sunlight being abducted anew.

A week ago, I graduated with a degree in [insert degree here], and it was while celebrating this over dinner that my husband asked if I was willing to start a new life with him back in Wyoming.

I said “yes” without hesitation, of course...

But as for what that new life entails in particular, Flint tells me gravely it’s also on a need-to-know basis, and I’m not sure this time if I believe him.

I mean...really?

He even asked me to promise not to tell anyone we’re moving to a remote little town called Hartland—a place so remote that you can’t even find it on Google Maps! He also claims the internet doesn’t work there, but I’m not sure I believe him on that either.

I mean...really?

The more I spend time with my husband, the greater the mystery surrounding his past grows. My heart is convinced he’s hiding something from me, but I’m also confident it’s nothing bad. It’s just...mysterious, I suppose?

“I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

And speaking of Mr. Mysterious...

I turn around with a sheepish smile. “You’re going to tell me I’m being too sentimental again, aren’t you?”

“On the contrary,” my gorgeous husband drawls, “you’re doing exactly what I hoped you’d be doing—”

My brows furrow. “Really?”

“Because now I have a reason to comfort you.”

Oh no .

Everything becomes worryingly clear in an instant. The word “comfort” might mean something soothing to others, but in this marriage, it means something entirely different, and it’s why I’ve been working out so, so hard since I became Flint’s wife. I want to be a lot stronger and faster in hopes of escaping him, but— aaaah!

My husband catches up to me with ease, and a swift yank has me literally spinning into his arms.

“Why so nervous, angel” Flint purrs. “All I want is to distract you from your pain—”

That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

“Which is what any good husband would do.”

I can’t help but choke. The way he comforts me is absolutely the opposite of what any good husband—

“Ah.”

My heart is torn between sinking and fluttering when I see where he’s looking. Almost all of our furniture has already been given away, and the only things left are the console table in the foyer...and the framed mirror above it.

I make another attempt to escape, but Flint only clucks his tongue as he wraps an arm around my waist.

“Now, now,” my husband purrs. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I try digging my heels in, but it’s like going up against a force of nature, and in mere moments, we’re standing in front of the mirror. A wicked smile curves over my husband’s lips as our reflection reveals my dismay.

“This should do, don’t you think?”

“No,” I answer right away. “It absolutely shouldn't do—”

My words end in a gasp as he suddenly rips my blouse open, but this quickly turns into a moan as he yanks my bra down and starts kneading my breast from behind.

I want to look away, but I can’t.

The sight of him touching me is mortifyingly irresistible, and wetness starts pooling between my thighs as Flint slowly lifts the back of my dress, and aaah .

What is with this husband of mine that he just loves ripping my clothes?

And what is it with this heart of mine that it secretly loves the roughness of his— oh!

I can’t stop staring as he starts pounding into me from behind, and his fingers start playing with my swollen flesh.

“F-Flint...”

*“Don’t worry, love,”* my husband rasps out in promise. *“I’ll make sure to keep comforting you until you pass out.”*

The End