Page 86 of A Perfect World
I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t explain the insanity of what I’d done.
Mutely, I shook my head, hands trembling.
“Let them rest. We can talk in the morning,” Serina insisted. Reluctantly, Jack allowed her to drag him away.
A thud signaled the water shutting off.
Cemented to the floor, I vibrated under the intensity of emotions warring inside. Fear like nothing I’d ever known had splintered me to pieces while a miracle of my own making restructured every belief of mankind.
I played God.
And succeeded.
Bare feet slapped the tile as they neared me. The door clicked shut, the lock sliding in place. First the journal flopped on the ground, then a towel; droplets beaded on the low pile carpet, water dripping down smooth legs covered in scratches and bruises.
The sight of them sent bile up my throat.
Fingers brushed my cheek.
I dragged my eyes up her figure, landing on her eyes- less gray now, the lilac strands had multiplied. The angry red gash on her cheek where the car door smacked her snagged my attention. It had barely knitted over, skin raw but no longer oozing blood.
“I hate seeing these marks on you,” I whispered, voice hoarse from screaming.
A sad smile, her hands cupping my face and tilting it up.
“Don’t. Every cut, every bruise is proof we conquered death.”
Goosebumps spread like wildfire across my skin. The worddeathout of her mouth burned like a heated knife plunged into my heart. Hot pain morphed into fiery rage. I launched to my feet, startling her back a step.
“How dare they try to take the other half of my soul from me,” I growled, my trembling no longer from shock or fear, but from barely restrained fury. Heaving in pained gasps, “That’s what you are, the other half of my soul. And they fucking-”
A delicate hand shot to my throat, not applying pressure, but effectively silencing me with shock. Lilac eyes stared at me, unwavering.
“They’ll never take me from you,” she said, her voice soft, but firm. Her other hand flattened over my aching heart- over our bond. Her fingers curled into my wet shirt. “I belong to you, and you belong to me.”
I nodded, captivated by the confident command woven in her words.
“Now, take off these wet clothes.”
My heart stuttered.
She stepped back, the order sitting in her expectant expression. Slowly, I peeled off my shirt, dropping it to the floor with a wet smack. Her eyes skimmed down my chest to the waistband of my jeans. I popped the button, hooking my boxers with the soaked denim, shoving them down my legs and kicking them aside.
“Sit on the bed,” she murmured, a slight tilt in the corner of her lips.
Whatever magic saved her life sparked confidence I’d only dreamed of her possessing. I obeyed, lowering to the mattress, blood rushing to my groin. She approached, a finger hooking my chin and forcing my face up.
“Who do you belong to?”
Fuck.I was so hard it hurt.
“You.”
She nodded. “That’s right. Me.” Her nail dragged down my neck. “I had a choice when I was there- in the in-between.” I hung on her every word, skin burning as her fingers smoothed around my throat, her gaze flicking between my eyes and my mouth. Her tongue swiped over her lower lip, “Do you know what that choice was?”
“No.”
“Scoot back.”
