Page 41 of Malice

She laughs, soft and easy, like she’s got no more fucks to give. “I wasn’t going to.”

We lie there, wrapped up in each other as the night closes in. Her heartbeat slows and her breathing steadies against my chest. It’s a quiet I’ve never known, a stillness that settles deep in my bones.

“Stay,” I rasp, my voice raw. “Stay the night.”

She lifts her head, eyes on me in the dim light. “I’ve got work in the morning.”

“I’ll drive you.”

Her face softens. “Okay,” she whispers, a promise that is sealed with a brush of her lips over my jaw.

I pull her closer as she settles, her hand landing right over my heart.

“I feel safe with you,” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

That one word hits me deep where it counts. “Always,” I murmur into her hair, a vow she’s already drifting too deep to hear. Her body goes slack against mine as sleep finally takes her.

I pull Trixie close, feeling her breaths, the fight draining out of her muscles until she’s completely limp against me. The room’s pitch black, just the two of us tangled up, and something fucking snaps in my chest. It isn’t just about wanting her anymore, it’s a need, raw and brutal, something that would gut me if I ever lost my grip.

My lips brush her forehead, breathing in that mix of shampoo and her skin, the scent that’s pure Trixie. My hand roams her back, lazy and possessive, feeling each soft inhale and the fucking thrum of her heartbeat under my palm.

“Sleep,” I murmur, though she’s already out cold. “I’ve got you.”

The house settles around us, a creak here and there, nothing else. I stay wide awake, burning the memory of her weight against me into my mind, her hair sprawled over my chest, the little noises she makes as she dreams.

When I finally crash, it’s her in my dreams, not the twisted shit that’s haunted me since she went missing, but something softer, almost hopeful. Mornings like this, with her right here, a future I never let myself believe in.

Chapter 12

Carter

Dawn comes creeping in, gray light twisting everything in shadow. Trixie’s still curled up against me, her hand resting over my heart like she’s staking her claim, and fuck if it doesn’t feel right.

I don’t want to wake her. She looks so peaceful, so unguarded, disturbing her feels wrong. But the clock reads 5:47 a.m., and she needs to be at the hospital by seven.

“Trix,” I murmur, brushing hair from her face. “Time to get up.”

She stirs, eyes fluttering open. Confusion clouds her face before it clears, replaced by a slow, sleepy smile that makes me forget what I was about to say.

“Morning,” she rasps, voice thick with sleep.

I kiss her forehead. “Morning. You’ve got to get ready for work.”

She groans, burrowing closer. “Five more minutes.”

I laugh, the sound rumbling through us both. “We said that last time.”

“Worth a shot.” She lifts her face, finding my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. Her eyes shine with contentment. “I could get used to this.”

The words hit me hard. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She stretches against me, warm and pliant. “Waking up next to you. It’s… nice.”

Nice. The word is a fucking insult to what’s tearing through my chest, but I just nod. Instead, I trace her jawline, memorizing how she looks in the morning light, soft, rumpled, completely at ease.

“I should shower,” she says, but doesn’t move.

“I’ll make coffee.” I steal another kiss before letting her go.