Page 75 of False Start

I look up at her, my heart thundering inside its bony cage. “Well, are you?”

She laughs, and it’s the most genuine it has sounded coming from her. “From the very moment you surged out of whatever dream created you, I was yours and you were mine.” Harvey shakes her head. “I don’t know why I eventriedto fight it.”

I don’t correct that it wasIwho dreamed her.

I don’t think she’d understand.

She grips my waist, and I feel whole again. I swallow hard, her answer almost knocking the wind out of me with the way she owns her truth. “You promise?” Ineedthe reassurance.

I’m desperate for it.

She chuckles. “I have something for you.” She steps backward, her fingers still touching me until she’s too far.

Then she turns around and walks into the extra room. She’s gone for a second or so before she comes back holding something in her hand. It’s only when she’s back in front of me and opening her hands that I wipe the confused look off my face. It’s a white leather choker. It’s beautiful, adorned with gold studding perfectly spaced out, and the stitching is so flawless, it could have been done through a machine.

“You made this?” I ask, reaching for it, but she pulls it back, closing her fist around it.

I frown at the movement, but she responds to the question with a nod.

“When?” The word comes out almost like a laugh before I remember I’ve just been casually slipping through time in a drug-filled haze.

“This morning, today.” She shrugs like it’s nothing.

“Well… are you going to give it to me?” I look at her, but it suddenly feels too awkward, so I shift my gaze to the side.

“Here’s the thing about this gift, princess, about belonging to someone,” she says. “It comes with conditions.”

“That doesn’t sound like a gift then,” I interrupt,unable to shut my brain up from the incessant need to correct.

“Well, maybe it’s not.” She shrugs and extends her palm anyway.

It’s fucking gorgeous, but I don’t take it yet.

“Conditions?” I ask.

“You want me to be yours? Then I’m yours. But if you put this collar on, you aremineuntil you throw it back at my feet. Mine to take care of, mine to keep, mine to protect. Even if that means from yourself.”

The promise is heavy, the obligation unspoken but so real, and my hand is in no way steady as it reaches for the white choker. “I want to be yours,” I say, grabbing it before she somehow regrets it and decides to close her hand once more. And then Cat kisses me, enveloping me in all that is her.

Her lips stay pressed to mine, like separating might hurt one of us, until finally she pulls back, just enough to drop her forehead to mine.

“Put it on?” I ask, wanting to see what it looks like on me.

Her fingers are quick, nimble with the buckle as she slides the leather through it and then closes it to a snug fit around my neck. Harvey walks me to the mirror, standing behind me with her hands at the base of my throat, just below the collar.

It’s truly amazing what she can do with her hands.

“Let me feed you,” she whispers into my ear.

I groan walking past her, slinking my way down into the living room couch.

“Seriously. I haven’t seen you eat anything in a long time. I know it’s hard, but if there’s something youcaneat, then tell me,” she pleads, following me.

Another obnoxious noise leaves my throat as I lay down fully on the couch. “Food is the enemy right now.”

“Nia.” Her voice is stern, like that’s not an option.

“There’s only one thing I can eat right now, and there’s only one woman who can make it,” I confess, knowing there’s specifically only one dish I can stomach when I’m feeling this way, whether it’s drug, alcohol, or virus-induced.