Page 39 of The Vigilante's Heart

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes, it does. I need you to think, Peyton. I can’t put this on your shoulders, I can’t unload this on you, but if you guess it? That I can deal with, and it’s all there, sweet girl. You’re the only one that could know.”

“Bennett, I don’t have a clue what you mean,” I say as I turn in his arms and meet his gaze through the darkness of my room.

“You do,” he nods. “I need you to put that incredible brain of yours to good use. But that’s enough for tonight, right now I need you.”

“Bennett, I’m on my period, remember?”

“And I told you I don’t care about your blood. I want it, cover me in it.”

“You’re insane, besides the bed will be destroyed.”

“Shower,” he mutters as he sweeps me into his arms and walks us to my bathroom.

Chapter Twenty-eight

He ruins everything. He’s in there now, with her, but she belongs to me. I can’t take them both, not at the same time. Tomorrow. I’ll take her tomorrow and then I’ll kill him. Maybe I’ll make her watch.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Bennett

It’s still dark when her alarm goes off, Peyton’s on an early shift this morning. She hits the stop button on her phone and snuggles back into my arms, there’s not a part of me that’s not touching her. Last night was perfect; taking her when she’s bleeding was a new level of intimacy that I’m going to crave every damn month.

“How do you feel?” I rasp in her ear, my voice still gravelly from sleep, or the lack of it.

“Like I got railed in the shower twice last night,” she sleepily mumbles. My body shakes as it’s wrapped around her, my laughter bubbling out of me.

“That you did, and if you keep reminding me of it, you’ll get railed again now. But, I meant how do you feel about what we talked about?”

“I’m not sure, you’ve not really given me much to go on.”

“You’ve got it all, sweetheart, you can work it out. If anyone can, it’s you.” She just grunts in response. “Why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll make you a coffee before you have to leave?” I loosen my grip on her so she can climb from the bed, my eyes following her every move. I’m not sure how long she’ll accept what I’ve given her, which if I’m honest, isn’t much at all. But, I know she can work it out. The timings of my outings, the blood, the secrecy, my need to protect, to keep her safe; I know she can do it. She just needs to connect all the dots.

Little D winds himself around my legs while I’m making the coffees, his tiny little body remarkably strong as he pushes himself into me.

“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too, little man. Just don’t tell your mommy, okay?” His little chirps and meows make it sound like he’s having a conversation with me. Never in my forty-two years did I think I would be making my girl, or any girl, coffee while talking to a cat. A lot’s changed since Peyton walked into my life.

I’ve got the news on the TV in the hope that there’s a report on the vigilante; I want to give Peyton all the help I can. Just as luck would have it, they start their discussion about him — me — as Peyton walks in.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” I pass her coffee to her and place a kiss on her forehead. “You can find out a bit more about Barclay now,” I say nodding towards the TV.

“We both can,” she responds and I just hum back at her, neither confirming nor denying anything.

The reporters mention how countless women have come forward since his death, confirming they were victims of that scumbag. I’m gladI made him suffer, every scream, every cry replays in my mind, every moment of his torture was for them, for his victims. Something the angel next to me would have been had I not stopped him.

“Do you think — I mean,” she stutters around her words. “Do you think I could have been a victim had he not been killed?”

“He was never getting to you,” I vow. “Never. I told you no one will ever hurt you.” I pull her into my arms and stamp my lips to her own, my tongue sweeps inside her mouth, tasting coffee, tasting her. The kiss goes on forever, like two people whose sole survival revolves around this kiss. Like it’s our lifeline. Finally, she pulls back from me, licking her lips as she does and making me groan and adjust my dick in my pants, my very hard dick.

“I have to go,” she whispers, her eyes glued to the outline of my cock. “I’ll take care of that for you later.”

“You’re fucking right you will.” I pause before the next words leave my mouth. “I’ll be later tonight, I’ll be back for dinner but I won’t be home when you get there. Do you understand?” Her eyes narrow on me.

“Yes, I understand I have to work it out. You’ll have to come here after though. I’m not moving back into yours; this is my home.”

“The fuck it is. Your home is with me, at the house we both live in.”