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CHAPTER SIXTY

As soon as we walk out of Morrison’s house—without looking back and completely unfazed by his screaming—we are met with at least a dozen Harley-Davidsons parked outside, ridden by tattooed, long-haired men in leather jackets.

Some look about the same age as my future father-in-law. Others are a lot younger.

There is also a black van with no windows.

The three of us look at Badger, waiting for an explanation.

I know he comes from a family of bikers in North Carolina, and once again I find it oddly poetic—like fate—that he and Marla, both from the same state, only met here in Cape Cod.

"They’re my cousins," he says, as if that explains everything.

"Yeah, I figured," I reply. "But what are they doing here?"

He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "What we just did back there left a lot of traces. I wasn’t sure if you guys were going to take part in the .

. . let’s say, 'event,' but I had no fucking doubt that bastard wasn’t walking away this time. So I called the cleanup crew. They’re from our local club branch here in the state. "

" Cleanup ?"

"Forget it, boys. Leave it to us. In less than an hour, the only thing left of this place will be ashes—and the remains of a disturbed man who took his own life. My advice? Leave now. The fact that Morrison’s house is isolated with no neighbors for miles is a bonus, but I think the less you know, the better. "

Maybe, if someone had told me a week ago that I’d take revenge on my cousin without flinching, I’d have called them crazy.

But there’s no limit to what I’ll do to protect my family.

He didn’t just hurt Marla—my wife’s mother and my son’s grandmother—over and over again.

He stole Sedric’s chance to meet his grandfather. He tried to burn Alexis alive.

Without another word, we start walking away from the property.

Alexis

Three Months Later

There was never a real engagement party. LJ called his family—just like Athanasios and William did with theirs—as soon as they knew we were okay.

They told them something had come up and that we’d celebrate with a private dinner at the Seymour house.

The next day, we saw it in the papers that LJ’s cousin’s house had caught fire with him inside. Nothing was left but ash.

Morrison’s death is a forbidden topic. Mom, my friends, and I have talked about it, and we all get the same thing: when we try to ask any of our men whether there was a confrontation between the four of them and Morrison, they shut down and change the subject.

The day Badger saved us, my first instinct was to go back and beat Morrison’s face in myself. Yes, I was scared. But my hatred was stronger in that moment—I wanted to kill him with my own hands.

It took a whole week before my mom and I could talk about what we’d learned that day. We cried for hours. We mourned again—for Grandma, Grandpa, and my dad.

Mom decided to go back to therapy, and I know why: she blames herself. She thinks Morrison’s obsession targeted her because of something she did—which, of course, makes no sense at all.

She dropped the civil lawsuit against the DeCarlos. In the end, they were victims too—manipulated by Morrison’s schemes.

As a true crime fanatic, I’ve studied tons of cases where someone became the target of a stalker just for crossing their path. Some nutjob just decides you’re soulmates. I never thought I’d witness something like that inside my own family.

I don’t doubt Morrison suffered from some serious mental illness, but I think most of what he did was just who he was—selfish, cruel, arrogant, and completely incapable of thinking about anyone but himself.

"What are you thinking about, Alexis?" LJ asks, pulling me onto his chest.

"How’d you know I was awake?"

"Because I know everything about you. Haven’t you figured that out yet?"

"I’m serious."

He reaches over and turns on the lamp beside our bed. "So am I," he says.

"I was thinking about Morrison."

He closes his eyes for a moment. "I’m sorry for what my cousin did to your?—"

I press my lips to his. "You have nothing to apologize for. No one does—except that monster."

"Then why is it still keeping you up at night?"

"Because what I learned that day brought all the pain of losing my dad back again. But I have faith it’ll pass."

"And if it doesn’t, I’ll be here with you. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and share it with you."

"I love you, LJ. I love you, our son, and our story. It was hard, but it made us stronger."

"I’d go through it all again—every bit—if I knew you’d be waiting for me at the end of the road, beautiful. I’d take all the pain, if it meant winning you."

Lazarus

Months Later

Night Before the Wedding

CAPE COD

"I love your hands," she moans, trembling against me as I trail wet kisses down her spine.

It’s already past midnight, and I’ve fucked her twice since we came to the room—but I’m still insatiable.

One hand grips her hair in a tight fist; the other slides beneath her stomach to position her on all fours.

"I love you, LJ. I’ll always love you," she whispers as I press myself to her entrance.

Her skin burns—maybe from the same fire that’s eating me alive.

"You’re mine," I growl.

"Was that ever in doubt? I’ve always been yours. Let me show you."

I release her and sit back on my heels, waiting.

Alexis gets on all fours again, this time facing me.

She licks the head of my cock, then takes me deep in her mouth.

I grab a fistful of her hair again. "Take it to your throat. I want to come in your mouth."

Her lips wrap around me, swallowing me whole.

I thrust my hips forward, shoving in until my balls.

She sucks hard, locking eyes with me, pausing every now and then to tease the head with her tongue.

I lean forward and slide my fingers into her pussy. She’s soaked. My fingers slip right in. I add another, and she moans around my cock.

"Yeah, just like that. Nice and deep." I grip her jaw, controlling the rhythm, fucking her mouth without mercy.

She lets me. God, she’s so filthy. So mine.

I’m close. Alexis can feel it—she sucks harder.

I swell between her lips, and she deepens her suction. I explode in her throat—but I’m nowhere near done.

I push her back on the bed and bury my face between her legs. Alexis comes fast—faster than she wants to. I need more, so I sit up and drag her into my lap, thrusting into her in one hard move.

I devour her mouth, mixing our flavors, and make her ride me hard, slamming her down again and again on my cock.

Then I flip her back on all fours and lose it when I see her pussy swallowing me.

I grip her hips and fuck her deep, slow, savoring every second, trying to rein in the beast clawing inside me.

She pushes back, begging for more—her heat and wetness driving me crazy.

I pound into her harder, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in, fucking her rough until she begs to come.

I spank her pussy with an open palm, and she moans, grinding back on me.

Alexis is the most delicious woman I’ve ever had.

Her inner muscles start to clench—I rub her clit faster, knowing she’s seconds away.

My cock throbs, desperate for release, and the spasms of her pussy drag me right to the edge.

"Tell me how much you love being fucked by your husband."

"You’re not my?—"

I slap her ass. "What we’re doing tomorrow is just a formality. I’ve always been yours. Say what I want to hear."

"I love you inside me. Anywhere in me. And I love when you just hold me in your arms too. It’ll always be you, Lazarus. I’m your woman. Your lover. Yours. Fuck me harder."

The fuck goes from heated to pure madness—and I give her everything.

"Come with me. I want your honey all over my cum."

She lets out a long moan, surrendering, full of love—and seconds later, I’m spilling inside her.

"I love you, Alexis. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it."

"I don’t need proof anymore, LJ. I want memories and photos. Christmases and birthdays. You and our children. I don’t need a contract or guarantees—because I trust you, and I trust our love."