Page 4 of Ruthless Possession
At eleven fifty-nine, they deliver me to my door, both perfectly respectful under my father's watchful gaze. But their eyes promise something else that makes me ache for tomorrow and all the tomorrows after.
Summer ends too quickly. Three months of stolen moments, breathless kisses, and whispered promises evaporate like morning mist. Now the dreaded day has arrived.
I stand in the driveway watching Trenton and Matthew load their bags into Trenton's father Torch's truck. The August sun beats down mercilessly, but I'm cold on the inside. Numb. Like my body is preparing for the pain by shutting down early.
"Got everything?" Dad asks them, his voice gruff but gentle. He's been different with them since prom night. Less suspicious, more respectful.
"Yes, sir," Matthew answers, closing the tailgate with a decisive click that feels like a period at the end of a chapter.
The rumble starts down the street, growing until a half dozen motorcycles pulls up to our curb. The Devil Souls MC. Their leather cuts gleam in the sunlight as they park, a silent show of force and family. Kyle, their president, dismounts, watching Trenton and Matthew with quiet authority. This is their other family, here to see them off.
"Seventeen weeks," I whisper to myself. Basic training. Then more training after that. Months and months without them.
Trenton's mother Kayla approaches me, pulling me into a fierce hug. "They'll be back before you know it, sweetheart," she says, but her eyes are wet too.
"I know," I lie.
Matthew's parents hover nearby. Jean clutches Jackson's arm like she might collapse without the support. Her son, her baby, off to war eventually. I see the fear etched in the lines around her eyes and recognize it as my own.
"Morgan." Trenton's voice pulls me from my thoughts. He stands before me, already looking different in his traveling clothes. More serious, more soldier than boy. "Walk with me."
We move a few steps away from the others when his hand finds mine, squeezing once.
"Don't forget," he says simply.
"I couldn't if I tried."
His dark eyes search my face like he's memorizing it.
"Write to us. Every day."
"I will."
Matthew joins us, completing our triangle. "We've got this for you."
From his pocket, he produces a small box. Inside, a delicate silver chain with two pendants, an M and a T.
"So we're always with you," he explains as Trenton fastens it around my neck.
The metal feels cool against my skin. I touch it, knowing I'll wear it until they return.
"Time to go," Kyle calls, his deep voice carrying across the yard.
This is it. The moment I've been dreading for months.
I force my lips into a smile. "You'll be amazing," I tell them, proud of how steady my voice sounds. "Best they've ever seen."
Matthew kisses me first, soft and sweet, his hand cradling my face. "Wait for us."
"Always," I promise.
Then Trenton. His kiss harder, more desperate. "You're ours," he whispers against my lips. "Remember that."
They turn to my father, who stands rigid, trying to be strong for me.
"Sir," Trenton says formally, extending his hand. "Take care of her."
Dad's handshake is firm. "I will, son."
