Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
No, it was for my pet.
Juliet.
I mourned the loss of her like she had died, and in every way possible, it felt like that to me. She did die. I couldn’t see her face except in my memories. I couldn’t hear her voice unless I was dreaming. I couldn’t feel her skin against my fingers, taste her body along my tongue unless I was imagining her as I fucked my fist to the images of all the above.
It was such a lovely melody, and at one time, it brought me peace. Now it was nothing more than agony. I wanted to feel the pain, the turmoil, the devastation of losing her and losing myself in the process. Because that meant it happened, that meant we existed in one space, in one time, together, and numbing myself wasn’t an option.
Every inch of me longed for her in a way I’d never yearned for anyone. She was in my blood, circulating through my veins, trying to breathe life back into whatever was left of me. Her blood was on my hands, her fears, her tears, her love, I owned all that too.
I got lost in the rhythm of the keys, simply fantasizing she was there playing for me, sitting next to me, smiling, putting her hands over mine like I used to do her.
Sometimes it felt as though this was the way I’d live for the rest of my life. In a tower filled with money, power, control, and sex, the seven deadly sins and I were cemented for eternity. Juliet brought so much light to this estate with her smile, her laugh, her innocence. I stole all that from her, and there was no way in hell I was ever giving it back. If I couldn’t have her by my side, then I’d have her spirit, her heart; it all belonged to me as well.
She texted.
She called.
She was on my ass, and you’d think it would have granted me happiness, except it didn’t. Every day I had to fight the desire to answer her, to claim her, to steal her again. Wrong to dream about killing her brother, so I had no competition.
I smiled.
How fucked up, right?
I didn’t learn one damn thing. Every bone in my body wanted what it couldn’t have, craving her like a desperate man.
God knows I didn’t deserve her.
And the devil wanted me alone with no one.
My thoughts drifted, picturing pet playing for me.
So carefree.
So beautifully breathtaking.
Wishing my day away so I could sleep and dream of only her. Nightfall took over, and still, I played my mother’s piano. Spending hours in another world where she and I were together. I shook off the sentiment and took another swig from the whiskey bottle, numbing myself with alcohol before I continued to play. Wondering if she was playing her piano and thinking of me.
The balcony doors were open, and the breeze from the fresh air felt like freezing cold water against my skin. The atmosphere changed in the blink of an eye. The heat of her body radiated onto my back when she suddenly placed her fingers on top of mine like I had with her when she learned I could play too.
We stayed there just like that.
Playing together, the roles reversed.
Now she was my captor, and I was her hostage in every way that mattered.
Play for me, Juliet.
Play.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears to stay in. Once the song was over, neither one of us moved or said a word, terrified that if we did, this moment would all turn out to be just another dream.
Wishful thinking.
A purgatory for our love.
Thinking my mind was playing tricks on me, or the liquor went straight to my fucking head. I watched as her hand moved, and she placed it over my heart.
It was beating fast.
Without turning, I knew she was smiling. Knowing the effect she always had on me.
Taking her hand off my heart, I brought it up to my mouth to kiss each finger, her pulse, allowing my lips to linger.
She was alive.
Free.
There was so much I wanted to ask, so much I wanted to know. My mind caught up with my heart. There would only be one reason she’d run back to the monster. Her heart was pounding, and as I felt her wrist, my soul felt something entirely different.
I announced, “You’re pregnant.”
She froze, unable to move from my possessive hold. “How do you know?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Was that your plan all along?”
For the first time in six weeks, I smiled against her hand.
Speaking with conviction, “No. This was God finally proving to me that he truly does exist.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Donovan
Slowly, I stood and spun to look down at her stomach. Before she could say one more thing, I dropped to my knees in front of her. My mouth was on her stomach, kissing the life we’d created from darkness and uncertainty.