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And then he was dead, too, and there was only me and the killer.

They can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let them hurt you ever again.

For so long, I wouldn’t let myself think of that moment between Sawyer and me. Not because of the trauma—that came from elsewhere, from when I cradled Gavin Ward’s body while he died and then when it happened again, when Sawyer died in my arms. But that moment, between those deaths, wasn’t traumatic. I didn’t let myself think of it too often because I didn’t want to wear the memory away until it was nothing.

So I would only ever think about it in the dark, one hand between my thighs with the other clamped down on my mouth to stifle my moans. And it’s time to confront the fact that what happened two weeks ago was not the first time Sawyer Caldwell made me come.

Thunder booms so loudly that the entire church vibrates. When I move, surging forward into the hallway, it almost feels like I’m outside my body, like something else is drawing me closer and closer to him.

I stop in front of the bathroom, my heart pounding in my chest. The shower runs on the other side of the door, nearly drowned out by the sound of rain against the roof.

My face buzzes. I should walk away right now.

But Sawyerprotected me. He’s the only person, other than Charlotte, who’s ever done that.

I pull the blanket away from my shoulders and let it drop to the ground.

The ED voice hisses and snarls and tells me I’m broken.

Lightning floods the hallway with a sudden, blinding light, and the thunder that follows makes the walls shake.

I know I shouldn’t do this. I know I should leave. I should go back to my cabin. I should call 911. I should get in my car and drive far, far away from here.

Instead, I push the bathroom door open.

Warm, damp air greets me, a welcome balm against the church’s chill. I expected Sawyer to be in the shower already. I expected to have another moment before I could change my mind.

Instead, I find him standing naked beside the tub, his back to the door. He’s testing the water with one hand, but before I can duck out into the hall, he turns around and sees me.

I’m frozen in place. I can’t take my eyes off him—his lean, wiry body, his skin crossed with faint scars. Blood coats his shoulders, the top part of his torso, his arms and hands. But his face is clean.

His cock is also clean. And erect. It rises from the dark thatch of hair between his legs, thick and long. It’s big. Bigger than Scott’s.

“Edie.” His voice is hoarse. His eyes swallow me whole.

My heart beats like a hummingbird’s. I can’t back out now. I don’t want to back out now.

“Sawyer,” I whisper, stepping over the threshold. He doesn’t say anything, like he’s waiting for me to speak. The shower creates hot clouds of steam.

And I know I crossed this line a long time ago.

“Can I—Can I join you?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SAWYER

She can’t be in here. She can’t be looking at me like that, her eyes sweeping down my torso and lingering on my cock. It’s too dangerous. My blood is boiling.

But fuck me, she looks perfect. Her wet shirt clings to her torso and reveals the outline of her bra, the pebbles of her nipples. Her hair curls around her face. I can’t stop staring at her.

“Can I—Can I join you?” she whispers.

I know I should tell her no. Send her back out to the church. I can jerk myself off while I think about biting into her hard nipples until she bleeds. It’s safer that way.

But she takes a step toward me, her eyes big and scared but at the same time flooded with lust. I can’t send her away. The most I can do is warn her.

“Edie, if you get in this shower with me, I’m going to fuck you whether you want me to or not.”