Page 4 of Requiem Of Him (Of Solace And Sin #1)

The wayward fantasy comes to a screeching halt the moment he reaches up to adjust the brim of his hat.

It is a completely innocent tick that I had always loved, one I was used to, but a simple adornment on his left ring finger makes me want to crawl into the shallow grave Alessio has threatened me with a time or two.

I want—no, need —it to be fake. There is no conceivable way that it could be true, that he could have married her.

Not after everything we talked about on that last summer night together in the bayou.

It just couldn’t be. How I completely missed it the countless times he’d sat across from me at the bar, I have no idea.

No matter how many times I blink, hoping that I am seeing things, it remains firmly soldered to his finger.

The worn metal isn’t leaving my sight as if it’s taunting me, laughing at me, telling me that I had been a stupid fucking kid.

And clearly, I had been. I was so goddamn naive to believe him, to have given him something so precious so many years ago.

I kept my mouth shut and left because I no longer had a choice, but he had stayed, stayed, and married that fucking girl.

An ugly laugh escapes my throat, pulling everyone's attention towards me—including his.

Cortland finally takes a long look at what he can decipher between me and Nyx, who is still plastered against me, before his gaze settles on the one thing that I could never change no matter how many times Dr. Godfrey tried.

There is no denying who I am now that he’s seen the scar that Cortland himself stitched up while feeding me Banamine to help subside the excruciating pain.

Really, I had gotten lucky, but in that moment, no one could have told me that.

It had been a freak accident, but I would never forget the terror that I saw in Cortland’s eyes when I got my bearings enough to pick myself up off the ground and all he could see was my face covered in blood.

The scar served as a reminder that even placing your trust implicitly in things that you had grown and nurtured from their inception could cost you more than you had ever bargained for.

We remained frozen, both staring at each other until I break the tether holding us together for so long. One I should have severed the moment I left Louisiana, and him, in my rearview.

“Come on, Nyx. It’s time for us to go.” I rouse him enough to loosen his grip on me before pulling him towards the door.

Regrettably, the only way to leave brings me closer to Cortland, who looks pained the closer I get to the door, before I force our way past him and into the chill of the night.

As I struggle to get Nyx into the backseat of Jameson’s SUV, I feel him before I see him.

I knew he’d follow me, like he always did.

If I moved, he moved, like I still held his strings, and he was my beautiful marionette to manipulate any way that I pleased.

The moment I close the door of the SUV, sealing Onyx inside, I relax my weight against Cortland like I had so many times before, and his less than sure arms come to band around my waist, his warmth surrounding me. He made it so easy to forget.

“Cort.”

The single word, the name he’d let me call him, breaks his resolve and his arms tighten around me.

A choked sound, almost like a sob, meets my ears and startles me, but it also makes me smile.

His cries have always been my favorite. His eyes, red-rimmed and glossed with tears, make his irises shimmer, brightening the usual whiskey color to a honey brown that I want to see for the rest of my life.

But the most intoxicating thing about him is the way he smells, almost as good as he tasted.

It hasn’t changed a bit: cherries, dark chocolate, and tobacco.

It was overpowering, so masculine and rich.

Cortland buries his face in the juncture of my throat and inhales deeply as if to familiarize himself with my scent all over again, but smelling me had not been the goal.

His heated tongue meets my flesh and travels up to my earlobe, which he sucks into his mouth.

I squirm against him, his hands squeezing my hips to the point of pain, and a whimper works its way past my lips when the hard length of his cock grinds into my crease.

His calloused hand shoves its way into my pants and briefs with practiced ease before finding my cock already pulsing with need for him.

Cortland slots his middle and forefinger on either side my cock, just like I had shown him, and starts stroking my hardened flesh in an agonizingly slow pace that sets my soul on fire.

“Vi, fuck.” My knees threaten to buckle the moment my name leaves his lips. The addicting scent of his breath assaults my senses as his teeth latch onto the sensitive skin of my jaw. Cinnamon gum and Marlboro red cigarettes—my favorite combination.

“Long time, no see, cowboy.” I moan, nearly tripping over the childhood nickname I had given him.

A dark laugh rumbles against my back, and I squirm and writhe in Cortland’s arms the longer he toys with me.

He sinks his thick fingers inside me, stretching me to the point of pain.

The burn is delicious. I gasp as his fingers curl and press against the front wall of my hole, adding increasing pressure to my urethra until I feel the embarrassing urge to piss all over his hand—fuck, he’s going to kill me, and I haven’t even had a chance to taste him again.

I haven’t even savored him the way I had always meant to.

Cold metal pinches my sensitized flesh and yanks me back down to earth.

The blinding pain makes me want to scream.

It’s not even a physical pain; the single pinch was nothing for me to endure.

What I can’t fathom is that he is here with me in his arms, but he couldn’t be any less mine than he had always been.

As quickly as I had fallen into him again, it was easily ripped away.

I struggle to get out of his arms, forcing him to let me go.

My breathing becomes more ragged as panic sets in and wraps around my nervous system, choking my cognitive abilities until I double over.

Cortland scrambles to catch me as my knees crack against the unforgiving pavement but seems to think better of it before he can make contact.

He takes a step back, giving me the space I need but that I want less than anything.

And I don’t know if that makes it worse or if it should have been a relief, but it brings tears to my eyes anyway.

“Levi, what’s wrong?” He asks, his voice no longer feeling like a comfort. I shake my head, refusing to answer him.

I don’t want to explain it; it wouldn’t make fucking sense.

None of it did. I was angry with him for doing the same thing that I had done.

We chose survival over each other, and I am making the same decision now.

It didn’t hurt so bad when I didn’t know.

It was easier to conjure up any other outcome that he could have chosen, but I knew deep in my bones that he had gone through with it and married Diana if for no other reason than to end the vitriol between him and his father, and I couldn’t fault him for it, but fuck, if it doesn’t feel like the air has been ripped from my lungs.

I need Jameson to hurry up and stop fucking around with his brother. I need to be able to breathe. I need.

Minutes tick by before he reaches for me again, and I can’t suppress the instinct to recoil, backing away from his touch.

Neither of us says another word while I pull myself together and finally stand.

I lift my gaze to find him already looking at me, hurt etched into his beautiful face.

Honeyed eyes stare back at me as I lean into the cold metal door of the SUV to support my weight and to keep me from crumbling in front of him again.

It is all I can do to keep myself controlled, to stop myself from giving in and letting myself fall to pieces.

It would be so easy to seek refuge in him, but as much as I want to, I won’t. I can’t let myself fall into that trap.

“Why are you even here?” I ask, genuinely curious, but I don’t know if I want the answer if he’s tied up with Alessio on some level.

“Business. Has this been where you’ve chosen?—”

I scoffed, cutting him off before he could finish the question.

A strained laugh comes out while I take a few seconds to stare at him.

“Don’t ask questions if you’re not going to be forthcoming.

We never lied to each other so unless you plan to tell me what you were doing in his house, we don’t need to do this.

You shouldn’t have followed me out here in the first place. ”

Cortland eyes the SUV I’m leaning against before shaking his head.

If he was anyone else in his position, I would have let it go and chalked it up to him being here solely for Nyx at Alessio’s request, but that’s not what this was.

Alessio wasn’t someone you just partied with randomly without an invitation, but I’d seen them together on multiple occasions over the years, silently watching Cortland from afar.

I’m not ready to show my hand, but I also am not willing to budge on needing to hear it from him.

I want to hear it in his own words, how he managed to get in with the bratva if he was simply a rancher.

There was no correlation or reason I can formulate myself that makes sense.

“We’re goin’ to have this conversation whether you like it or not, Levi. Did you think I would just let you walk away after I saw you?” He takes a step closer, bringing himself a little too close for comfort. Too close to touch when my fingers are itching to feel his skin against mine.

“Honestly? Yes, Cortland, I did. What good would it do? Besides, if we hadn’t seen each other tonight, another decade would’ve gone by, and you would be none the wiser.

” I’m being heartless, and I know it. I’d had eyes on him for years without him knowing.

I shake my head, a grin starts pulling at my lips but I fight it, just to twist the knife deeper, “Besides, you just fucked Nyx because Alessio provided his new toy to be passed around for this evening entertainment. Clearly you have no qualms being the whore you’ve always been. ”

“You really believe that horseshit, don’t you?” A tremor in his cadence softens me, but I can’t bring myself to show him even the slightest weakness I still have for him.

“Oh, God. What else am I supposed to believe? That you’ve been pining for me after all this time?

That you still hold out hope for us?” I fake a pout, looking up at him for a moment and softening my eyes until tears welled up just enough before letting it fall away again.

“No, I don’t believe that. We both moved on, didn’t we?

” My eyes settle on his wedding band, forcing him to acknowledge its existence for the first time since he followed me out here.

“When did you become so cold?” The insecurity in his voice begins to bleed through, but it isn’t my responsibility to console him anymore.

“Oh, sweetie, I always was. I just never had a reason to be less than the doting little girl who followed you around from the time that I knew what it meant to want the wrong person.” The venom saturating my words and sickening grin tugging at my lips forces him to take a step back from me until he’s no longer within striking distance.

It is only made unbearable by the way he looks at me. The same way he looked at his father.