Page 183 of Buried in Blood

He tried to own her. Break her. Turn her into one of his pretty little puppets.

But she’s still here.

And he’s rotting.

Good.

I hope the worms are patient. I hope they take their time.

A door creaks behind me, and I don’t have to turn to know it’s Lucien.

His steps are soft—barefoot on hardwood, measured, controlled. Everything about him is deliberate. Even when he’s unhinged, he’s elegant.

He crouches beside me without a word, one hand on my knee, the other brushing my hair back behind my ear.

He doesn’t speak yet.

Hejustis.

That’s how Lucien loves. He doesn’t say it unless it matters. But he shows up, again and again, even when I try to shut him out. Even when I’m not whole.

Especially then.

I tilt my head toward him, resting my cheek on his shoulder.

“I was thinking,” I whisper.

“Dangerous.”

I smile. “About Harmony.”

He’s quiet for a second. “She’s okay.”

“She’s more than okay,” I say, voice thick with it. “She’sfree.”

He nods, and I continue.

“She was always so… put together. Strong in that high-neck-blouse-and-lip-gloss way. But I saw her yesterday. Reallysawher. And for the first time, she didn’t look like she was waiting for the next hit.”

Lucien strokes his thumb over my knee.

“And Reese?”

I sigh. “He terrifies me sometimes. Still. I don’t think he ever wanted this life. I think it was the only way he knew how to survive it.”

Lucien hums. “Sounds familiar.”

My chest aches.

I turn to face him, crawling into his lap like we’re teenagers and the world isn’t layered with bodies and blood and memory.

“You saved me,” I whisper. “Even when I didn’t want to be saved.”

He kisses my temple. “You walked through Hell, and I just followed you.”

I think of Harmony again.

The way her fingers trembled when she gripped that gun. The way her voice cracked when she asked me if she wasallowedto want something good.