Settling underneath the warmth of the comforter, I rest my hands behind my head and wait for Lindsey. I’m nowhere near done with her, but her eyes are glazing over with tiredness, and her banged-up ribs are no doubt aching after the sex. The covers are pulled back, the chill in the air hits my skin. Sliding into the bed, Lindsey curls in next to me, rolling slowly onto her non-bruised side. She rests her cheek on my chest while her other hand caresses my side, warming it up. She sighs loudly and I kiss the top of her hair before closing my eyes, drinking in the feeling of her breath on my skin, the way her body molds into mine.

My shoulders feel lighter, the weight on them sliding off bit by bit as Lindsey gives me a little more of herself. Being with her pushes the demons away and I feel stronger, in control of myself. The usual force overpowering my mind is in the distance, and now, it can’t get closer; it’s blocked. Blocked by the tenacity of this woman. To everyone, she is clothed in strength, while underneath, I know she’s naked and fractured, just like myself. I hate that she hides, but I understand it.

There is so much dividing us, but after tonight, I have a reason to fight. Not only for us, but to fight for myself. The plague haunting me now has a cure. She would be my resurrection.

Lindsey

Reality awakens me, consciousness reminding me of feelings I can’t comprehend but refuse to ignore further. My first thought before opening my eyes is I’ve never slept so well. What is it about being in the arms of a man that makes a woman feel more secure? The feeling of Mason’s heavy limbs over mine, carves security into me, which I’d only ever felt when in my father’s arms. The thought scares me and brings me back to my senses. What the hell am I doing? I need time to think. Using ninja skills I didn’t realize I possessed, I somehow manage to escape from Mason’s clutches without so much as a murmur from his direction. Quickly, I dress, wincing as I pull my top over my head. I tiptoe out of the apartment as quietly as possible in an effort not to wake Charlotte who is also still sleeping. Closing the door behind me, I breathe out the air I was holding in, in my attempt to escape undetected. I lean back against the door, closing my eyes and agonizing over my decision to leave. A sinking feeling twists my insides into knots. I know he’ll wonder why I left, probably be mad, but I need time to process last night my way. I need to unload on the only person in this world who truly understands me.

The quietness of my office brings me comfort until Oliver walks in, disrupting the silence. “Morning, beautiful.” The silvery tone of Olly’s voice along with the aroma of coffee hitting my nostrils calms me immediately. I put down my pen and stop what I’m doing. This man knows me well.

“Morning.” I stare at an obscenely happy Oliver Davenport, whose lips are actually parted in a full, teeth-showing smile while he stands there with two takeaway coffee cups in his hand.

I raise a brow at him. The man is never this happy. “You’re rather cheery this morning. Have a morning romp with Peyton, did we?” I tease, keeping the mood light.

He sets one of the coffees in front of me and rolls his eyes. “Twice, Lindsey, it happened twice.”

“Two times too many, and two times I can’t erase from my memory. Your office is not a sex dungeon, Olly. Please keep the screaming to a minimum. What’s up anyway? You brought me coffee, which means you’re sucking up. What did you do?” I narrow my eyes at him and take a sip of the delicious liquid gold.

He shakes his head, pulls out the chair on the other side of my desk and sits down. “Always so suspicious, babe. I didn’t do anything. Other than decide I’m over women. I’m done with the hard shit. I’m going to keep it simple and easy. In and out. None of their fucking drama.”

“Well, while you’re shitting on womankind over there, I’m going to just wait here until you’re done because then I’m going to need you to listen to me whine also. But I know you didn’t bring me coffee to tell me you’re becoming a manwhore. So what did you really come in here for?”

Olly shrugs, his lips lifting up into a mischievous grin. Here we go. “Just curious to know why you’re wearing your ‘just fucked’ look today. It’s not your usual style.”

I put the cup down, and clasp my hands together, leaning them on my desk. I eye him with a look he’s seen his fair share of. “Don’t be an asshole.”

He tilts his head and leans back into the chair. “Oh, come on, Linds. You could wear a sack and still look beautiful, you know I’m playing. But, babe, the hair, and weren’t you wearing those clothes yesterday?”

I bring my face to my hands, taking a second to get my shit together before sitting back up. “I’m sorry. Ignore my inner bitch this morning. I didn’t have time to go back home to shower and get ready so I had to bring my shit here and clean up, and clearly”—I gesture to my body—“I haven’t done a very good job of that.”

“You saw the cop again,” he states, his tone sharp.

I nod hesitantly, my heart plummeting at the mention of Mason. My emotional state over the man is a goddamn mess. Since when did I let my emotions get the better of me? They had last night, and it reminded me exactly why I don’t let my heart rule my life.

“I hadn’t planned on it, just so you know. I came home from seeing Ali, and found my place broken into, and I was attacked by whoever the hell broke in. I called Mason and he came over to help me and ended up taking me back to stay at his apartment.”

Olly jumps out of his seat and runs to my side, cutting me off at the same time. “What the fuck, Lindsey, why didn’t you start with that? Shit, are you okay? Where are you hurt?” He turns my head from side to side and looks me up and down. “I can see it now. Although the makeup is hiding that bruise pretty good.”

“Yeah, well, my chest and ribs hurt like hell, but at least those are hidden.” I sit up straighter in my seat, attempting to make myself more presentable, but as I use my hands to straighten out the creases in my top, I huff and give up. It’s a lost cause.

“Was it a Marino hit? Does Mason know anything? Is Alison okay?” Olly throws questions at me I don’t have answers to.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to take a wild guess and say yeah, it probably was. He can’t do his own dirty work from his prison cell, but the men at his every beck and call can. Mason doesn’t know anything he shouldn’t and Alison’s fine. I rang the clinic last night on the way to Mason’s apartment. My only concern was the police finding my gun but apparently, nothing suspicious turned up. Whoever attacked me must have found it when they were tossing the place and taken it.”

Olly shifts back, getting comfortable again in the guest chair of my office. “I’m kind of hurt, Linds. You called the cop and not me.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes.

“Olly, I adore you and all, but you spend more money at Armani than I do, and your closet is double the size of mine. Meaning, you’d rather go an extra week without getting your hair cut than getting blood on those shoes or a rip in your suit from saving my ass. You do the clean jobs, not the messy ones.”

His expression slackens as he puts his hand over his heart. “I’d do anything for you, babe. You know this. I could have comforted you. Stayed with you to make sure they didn’t come back.”

He could have. But for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t the man I instantly wanted to dial. That realization is so terrifyingly true I block it out and shove it to the back of my mind where I can face it later.

“Mason made me stay at his place anyway, so I was safe and that’s the main thing, right?” I add, opting to point out the pros of a situation I can’t and—if I’m honest with myself—wouldn’t change. I search Olly’s face for agreement while I try my hardest to be convincing.