K. Lynn - Reciprocity

“Baby, you need to calm down,” I said in a soothing tone, my fingers running through his hair. “We need to work out a plan.”

His head snapped toward me. “This is serious. We have to leave. I have to get you out of here. I can’t let them… I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Slow down. Take a deep breath. Please.”

“No!” he shouted and turned to me, his eyes beseeching me to understand. “This wasn’t a warning. Everything before was, but Vincent himself seeking me out was his way of saying goodbye, of letting me know that we’re dead. He wanted to see you, see what he was going to take from me. He is going to kill us, Lila! We have to leave now!”

I vibrated with anger and fear as I stared at Nathan. We weren’t right. There was an element that was off in both of us. We weren’t working together as a unit, as a family, and it was hurting us.

I picked up a shoe he’d just dumped into the suitcase and hurled it against the wall. “No. This ends now. Stop with the bullshit!”

He stopped packing and looked at me. “Bullshit?”

“Yes. Bullshit.” I was seething. Not working together made us weaker, and it’d become obvious we were falling apart because of it. “You’ve kept things from me. I’ve kept things from you, as well. We can’t do that, not now. Especially not in this moment.”

He blinked at me, stunned. “What are you keeping from me?”

“What are you keeping from me? I’m your wife, remember? Partner in this life we have together, including impending doom.”

He stepped forward, towering over me, and snarled. “What are you keeping from me?”

I blew out a breath and bit my bottom lip before looking him in the eye, my jaw jutting forward. “I knew Marconi was on his way in town this morning.”

“How?” His voice was flat, even, and a shiver ran through me.

“Noah.”

His face scrunched, and he lashed out, grabbing the nearest thing—a pillow—and tossing it across the room, screaming.

“You didn’t tell me? I missed a call from Noah around eight, but I had no idea…” He shook his head. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

I slumped down onto the edge of the bed. “You would’ve freaked out this morning. I was waiting until after work, trying to form a plan, but he’s already here.”

“We could’ve been gone hours ago.” He threw his hands up and stomped away, stopping in front of the bathroom door, his back turned. “How did Noah contact you?”

I closed my eyes and braced myself for his rage. “On a disposable phone he bought me a month ago. He’s been keeping me up to date as well as keeping tabs on us.”

He bent forward, then slammed his hands against the door frame. When he turned to me, I jumped at the fire in his eyes.

“A month? This has been going on for a month and neither of you mentioned it to me? I’ve fucking talked to Noah multiple times, and he never said a word.”

I stared at him and sighed. “You’ve been so on edge. Between the false positive and giving Tom the file, I’ve had to walk on eggshells and do everything I could to keep you relaxed.”

He glared at me, and icy dread flooded my system. It was anger, and not in a good way. “So, my wife has been placating me like a fucking child.”

I jumped up from the bed and stalked forward, pushing against his chest. “You wake up screaming every night! Your moods are so heightened and change so fast, I can’t keep up, so I keep even.”

Anger fled from him, replaced by something I couldn’t identify, but I knew it was a jumbled mess of turmoil. His hands ran through his hair, then down to his neck, pulling.

“I never should’ve proposed. We never should’ve gotten married.”

I flinched, recoiling back as if he’d slapped me. He looked up, his eyes empty. My mouth opened and tears began to gather in my eyes. My chest was tight, and I reached behind me, searching for the bed. Stability as my world threatened to collapse around me. His face morphed, eyes wide in panic as he lurched toward me, grabbing my arms.

“No, Honeybear, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“What way am I supposed to take it?” My voice was strained, forcing the overpowering emotions from pouring out of me. Everything was upside down.

His eyes scrunched closed, teeth bared as he squeezed me tighter.

“I somehow thought I wasn’t a bother to him any longer. All our therapy toned down my fears, and I forgot and was happy. I convinced myself we could have a future, a family, and grow old together.” My heart broke at the tortured expression on his face. “Everything that consumes me is you, and I want you in every way, but the one thing I don’t want is you hurt because of me. Marrying you tells them how much you mean to me. They can take you away from me.”

I swallowed hard, then reached out and grabbed hold of the lapels of his jacket. “You told me to stay away from you over and over again. You said you weren’t worth my life, but you were wrong. You are my life. If I hadn’t met you, I’d still be a zombie.”

His forehead fell against mine, and he cupped my face before kissing me hard. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I love you so much. I need to keep you safe, for you and for me. Even if that means keeping things from you.” His thumbs caressed my cheek. “I don’t want you to worry. It’s my responsibility to protect you.”

I stared into his eyes as I shook my head. “That’s not protecting me—that’s leaving me vulnerable. Noah noticed it as well and that’s why he got the phones. And I do nothing but worry, because I see how everything bothers you. You can’t hide from me. Not me.” I leaned forward and rested my head against his chest, my arms wrapping around his waist. “Remember what we said, what we promised? We’ll never be free, never have a baby, if we continue on this path.”

He flinched at my words. “There isn’t going to ever be a baby if we stay here, if I don’t get you away.”

I pulled back. “Where are we going to go? They’ll find us.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been getting emails, pictures of us, for a few weeks.”

“I know.”

His attention snapped back to me. “You know?”

I nodded. “I saw you looking at them when you were on the phone with Tom. After that, I downloaded your email app to my phone and have been checking it.”

He stared at me in stunned silence for a moment before turning and kicking a half-packed bag. “Jesus fucking Christ! Who the fuck are we?”

I sat back down on the edge of the bed and let out a sigh. “We’re two people in a shit situation, and all we want to do is protect each other.”

He turned, hands on his hips. “Fuck lot of good that’s done us.” He ripped off his jacket and threw it on the ground. He stared off, his face relaxed, almost as if an idea struck him. “Once I take you somewhere you’ll be safe, then I need to hunt him down and end this once and for all.”

“What? That’s crazy! He’ll have a dozen guys with him all carrying guns.”

“Then I’ll get a grenade and we’ll all go down.”

My jaw dropped open as I stared at him and the determination setting into his features. I got back on my feet and slammed my hands against his chest with all my might. “No! Don’t even fucking say anything like that.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight. “If it’s the only way to end this…”

My eyes watered, and I swiped away the unshed tears. It was sinking in that there might not be a tomorrow.

Our last night on earth.

The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. My whole body began to shake.

I pulled his head down and bowed up to press my lips to his. The surprise, followed by reluctance, threatened to crush me, and he almost did when his hands wrapped around my wrists. He pushed me back, head shaking.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I need you. Please, please.” Nothing could be more true. I needed him, our connection. It felt like I would rip apart without it, the torturous fate ahead of us burying me in crippling grief.

“We have to go.” My own agony reflected in his features.

“If tonight is all we have, give me one last moment with you.”

It hit him as well—understanding flashed across his face. His lips met mine again, fierce and desperate, as he reached down and lifted me up by my ass. I moaned into his mouth, a gasp leaving me soon after as we fell onto the bed.

Harsh hands ripped open my shirt as he bit down on my bra-covered breast. He sat up and pushed my skirt up, grabbing my hips and pulling my pussy against his cock. His mouth was parted, lids heavy as he looked down at me.

“Tell me.” The lust in his eyes faltered, exposing the fear and sadness beneath.

I reached out, my fingers brushing against his chest. “I love you…more than my own life.”

His fingers deftly worked his belt, then moved to his zipper. “More.”

“I’m yours for this life and the next.” His fingers pushed my panties aside, then he rubbed the head of his cock against my pussy, making me burn and melt around him. “I will always be yours.”

He thrust forward, and I convulsed. My eyes rolled back as my nails dug into his forearm. Everything centered around the connection created from his cock being inside me. He leaned over me and wrapped his fingers with mine as he pinned my arms against the bed. Desperation fueled his kisses as my hips met his.

“I would die for you,” he whispered against my lips. My heart fluttered in my chest. “I would kill for you.” His voice was airy, and he grunted as I clamped around him. “My life is yours.” His thrusts picked up, harder, deeper. He stared into my eyes, burning with so many emotions my chest clenched. “My body is yours.”