𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 [18+]

- 48 -

The room was mess. The bed was a mess. Hell, we were even more of a mess.

The sheets twisted and tangled around us like the chaos we'd dragged into this bed. His skin was warm beneath my fingers, his breath slow but steady against my neck. I could feel the faint tremble in his muscles, the residue of everything we'd done—again, and again.

My legs and thighs were so sore, my whole body was probably covered in his handprints and bite marks. I mean, I did mark him up too - deep red scratches ran across his back, bruised and broken skin where my nails had drawn blood.

I lay there, breathless, my skin still tingling where his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles on my hip. The quiet was heavy between us.

"What happens now?" My voice was barely more than a whisper.

A slow grin spreads across Val's lips.

"Have you ever been to Seychelles?" he asked, voice low, teasing.

I blinked, stunned. "No."

He smirked, pulling me closer until his lips brushed my temple. "Let's go then."

My heart skipped a beat, "What?" I barely dared to breathe.

"We're getting the hell out of here," he said, reckless and sure, "Go on a little getaway, babygirl. Let's smother eachother in the ocean... like we did once." He winks before getting up the bed and walking over to grab a pair of sweatpants from the closet.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

The world outside was burning—my family was hunting me, the news screaming my name across every screen, Ford dead because of him, because of us. But here he was, offering me a goddamn lifeline wrapped in sun-drenched beaches and endless blue skies.

"I have to call... Pen."

Val somehow managed to get me my phone back last night. God knows how, but at this point — even I don't question life much anymore.

He walks back in shirtless, wearing dark sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

"Call and inform whoever you want. We leave tonight. I'll be in my office making some arrangements." Val stalks over to the bed where I'm clutching the sheets to myself trying to process this "getaway" as he bends down and kisses my cheek before walking out.

"Wait!" I call out, "What about my clothes and everything? I cant go back-"

He pauses in the doorway, head tilted like he's half amused, half exasperated.

"You think I'm letting you anywhere near that house again?" His voice is a quiet thunder. "You think I'd let you step back into the lion's den just to pack a suitcase?"

"But - my things, my clothes-"

He grins, wolfish. "I'll buy you new ones."

My lips part, speechless.