One arm stayed wrapped around my waist, helping in his quick movements, and the other hand gripped at my hair and pulled until I was staring at the ceiling. I gripped at his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin and earning a growl from him in my attempt to hold on. Each breath that came from me was rough and on the verge of being a moan, and my eyes fluttered shut as another orgasm slowly built.
“I can’t,” I cried, and continued to dig my nails into him even as my fingers moved from his shoulders to his chest.
He jerked on my hair, and a shiver moved through my entire body.
“Come on, Briar.”
“I can’t.” A mixture of a cry and a moan left my throat as he moved deeper, harder.
The shaking started from my stomach and exploded to my fingers and toes. He freed my hair as soon as I cried out and drove into me harder still until he found his own release inside me.
Other than pulling me forward so I could tuck my head against his neck, we didn’t move. I clung to him as our chests moved roughly against each other’s in our own kind of perfect rhythm. I was his air, and he was mine. He gave and I took, and vice versa—so like our complicated relationship.
My body was still shuddering with little aftershocks long after our breathing had slowed—each one earning a faint brush of Lucas’s lips against my head, each one a gentle reminder that our night had been real. One of his hands made light trails up and down my back, keeping my skin covered in goosebumps and lulling me to sleep when all I wanted was to make this night go on forever.
It felt like I’d run a marathon. I felt shaky, weak, exhausted, and like I’d never been more alive.
“You are incredible, Blackbird. Everything about you.”
His words warmed my chest as my heavy eyelids finally slid shut.
I had given my heart to a man who had no intention of giving his to me. As much as I wanted to believe that he could, I wasn’t sure he was capable of such things.
Because he is darkness.
He is the devil . . .
. . . and I love him.
Devastating.
Chapter 27
Day 71 with Blackbird
Lucas
This girl was going to be the death of me. Literally. I couldn’t see an outcome for us that didn’t end with me staring at the barrel of a gun—and I didn’t care. I would take every day with her until that death came, and I would welcome it when it did because they would take her from me. And of everything and everyone that had been taken from me during my empty life, Briar was the only person I couldn’t live without.
She stayed.
My eyes darted over her sleeping face as I replayed the night before in my mind, and my heart thundered in my chest. She’d been in the city, surrounded by dozens of people she could have reached out to . . . and she’d stayed.
The rest of our lives wouldn’t be nearly long enough. Not after how much I’d come to care about her—and definitely not after last night.
I wanted last night forever.
My blackbird had been beautiful when she’d let go for me, and I would never get the image out of my head of her moaning and fighting against me when it had become too much.
This girl made me want impossible things.
I was disturbed and twisted in more ways than she would ever understand. She was fragile and so innocent to my world and the sickening darkness that touched it. But I embraced her life and she embraced mine even though each other’s lives went against our very being.
I traced the line of her jaw and suppressed a smile when she curled closer and mumbled something in her sleep. Her full lips parted slightly, and I dipped my head to taste them, unable to stop myself.
When I pulled back, green eyes were watching me. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice thick from sleep.
“Good morning.”
She looked away from me for a second to glance around the room. “Are we in your room? That’s against the rules,” she said when I nodded, as if she were informing me.
My lips curved up into a smile. “So is everything else we’ve been doing for months.”
A smile crossed her face before she hid behind her hands to cover a yawn. She giggled when I kissed her hands, pressing them to her face.
“I’m gonna call the driver, have him bring food.”
“Okay, I need to go shower.” But though she said the words, she didn’t move from her place in my bed . . . and I didn’t want her to. She stretched lazily for a few seconds before rolling over to climb out, and I pulled her back.
“Use my shower. Come find me when you’re done.”
Seconds passed as she stared at me. “Find you down here? Really?” Her excitement abruptly faded. “Was last night a test to see if I was ready to be down here? When we were in the city?”
“Briar, no. I was . . . Christ.”
How could she not understand what she meant to me? What more could I do for her to not think everything was a test?
“I was sure I was going to lose you last night,” I admitted. “But I was frustrated and you wouldn’t even look at me, so I was trying to help both of us. I just don’t always think about what I’m about to do with you until it’s too late—and last night was one of those times.”
I knew she wanted to believe me, but there was still doubt in her eyes and on her face.
“Come find me once you’re done,” I repeated, and kissed the corner of her mouth before climbing off the bed.
I had showered and put on a pair of sleep pants the night before, after Briar had fallen asleep, so I grabbed a shirt out of the closet then walked back through the bedroom to call my driver.
My smile couldn’t be contained when I saw Briar lying on the bed playing with the ends of her hair, smiling to herself. It took reminding myself that we had slept until noon and I needed to feed my blackbird in order to keep walking instead of climbing back into bed with her.
I walked into my office to make the call and check a few e-mails even though it was the weekend. I had been expecting them the night before, but I obviously hadn’t wanted to deal with them once we’d arrived home.
Everything was taken care of within a couple minutes, and I moved the cursor up to shut the computer down . . . and paused.
I hadn’t checked in weeks, and even then, it had been sporadic for the two weeks before, but I had been thinking of nothing but that since last night.
Watching her breaths deepen, her body reveling being outside the house . . .
She’d looked free.
Full of life.
A side of Briar I’d only glimpsed, but a girl I’d seen before. In pictures from another time—another life. And that girl who’d stood before me? She’d wanted me. Chosen me.
I needed to know what updates on Briar had appeared on the news—if any—or if the media interest in her disappearance had died down.
I quickly pulled up the Internet and went to Facebook, and grinned smugly when I’d finished with Briar’s page and went to Kyle’s. His pictures were the same as they had been most of this time: The large banner about being old and gray, and the profile that matched Briar’s—them together. No, his pictures hadn’t changed, but the girl in them had. She was no longer the Briar who was trying to get back to Atlanta to be with him. She’d had that chance and had chosen me instead.
But as soon as that thought entered my mind, my grin fell as something all too familiar settled in my stomach.
Yes, Briar had chosen me . . . for now. But I couldn’t fool myself into believing that a day wouldn’t come when that would end.
I scrolled down his page to look for the articles I had missed and saw that there weren’t many of them. Most were just updates of the updates. Scrolling back to the top, I opened the most recent two in new windows, read quickly through the first, then moved on to the second.
No body had been found. Reports had flooded in at the beginning of sightings of “Briar”—none had ended up being her—but were infrequent now. Detectives were declar
ing Briar a runaway, saying it seemed to be an elaborate set-up between her and the friend she’d gone in to cover for at work the day she “disappeared.”
As always, the end of the article was filled with numerous links to other articles dedicated to Briar’s disappearance, but now everything seemed to be twisted into some juicy bullshit story about why Briar would have run away rather than being focused on the seriousness and possibility of her being taken.
Jenna Frazier listed as possible accomplice in disappearance of GA woman, Briar Chapman.
Sources say Briar Rose Chapman was tired of living perfect life for sake of fiancé’s mother, Gov. Armstrong.
Was GA Gov. involved in future daughter-in-law’s disappearance to gain votes for upcoming election?
Can pictures lie? Kyle Armstrong and Briar Rose Chapman’s seemingly perfect relationship was anything but!
And there on the bottom was the same picture of her smiling brightly that had been on most of the news articles. Despite the statement that she was a runaway, below her picture was a phone number to call, and if the information led to Briar being found, a reward amount.
I had paid eight times that reward for her.
“I can’t figure out your sh—”
I clicked out of the window as I shoved away from my desk, whirling on Briar as I did. “Out!” I demanded harshly.
She was standing there in nothing except the button-down shirt I had been wearing the night before. Her face was as white as if she had seen a ghost—and I guess in a way, she just had. But she didn’t move, and her eyes stayed on the screen even as I rounded my other desk and stalked toward her.
A horrified cry burst from her chest and she covered her mouth with a shaky hand as her knees gave out, but I caught her before she could hit the floor. That same cry tore through her throat but was muffled by her hand—her stare never wavering from my computer.
“Out, Briar,” I said again, this time softer, but her fists started flying as soon as I moved her to the door.
“You knew! You knew! How could you?” She clawed at my face when I stopped one fist. Tears streamed down hers as she demanded, “How long have you been doing this? How could you do this?”
It was the first time she had cried in so long that I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to pull her into my arms and comfort her, but I knew that wasn’t what she wanted especially since I was the one she was trying to hit.
“We’ll talk about it out—” My words cut off when I glanced behind me and saw Kyle’s Facebook profile still pulled up—both of his pictures in clear view. “Shit.”
“Let me talk to him. Let me tell him I’m okay,” she screamed when I picked her up and forced her over my shoulder.
Her screaming didn’t stop as I hurried up the stairs and across the upper level of the house. I passed her room and continued to a place I swore I’d never see her in again, but I couldn’t think of what else to do at that moment. As soon as I was in the starter room, I bent and shoved her off me and onto the floor then stepped back into the hall and shut the door. I barely had it locked before she slammed into it.
I pressed my forehead and palms against the door as agony, nausea, and guilt swirled in my stomach.
“Lucas!” she screamed as she yanked on the handle. “How could you? I hate y—” Loud sobs burst from her and filtered into the hallway.
I wanted to die. I had her . . . I’d had her . . . and I’d just ruined everything.
“Fuck!” I slammed my fists against the door and shoved away, leaving my girl broken and alone.
Chapter 28
Promise Not To Chase You
Briar
“Blackbird fly, blackbird fly,” I sang quietly, numbly, “into the light of the dark black night.”
My mouth shut and eyes slowly traveled from the carpet to the doorknob when I heard footsteps outside the door. I had been in this painful room for hours and hadn’t left where I’d crumpled into a heap just inside. I hadn’t seen a reason to move. I’d felt numb, yet still completely aware of everywhere I was broken. Moving would just hurt more.
Lucas had researched me. My face had been on his computer screen. Kyle’s profile had been on his computer screen.
Until we’re old and gray, and then long after.
I couldn’t get Kyle’s sign out of my head. Could he still feel that way after all this time?
It had only been a little over two months, but here with Lucas it had seemed like lifetimes. Long enough for me to see the true Lucas and fall in love with him. Long enough for me to choose any type of future with him over returning to Atlanta.
Despite the unexpected and overwhelming reminder of my life with Kyle, I knew I would still choose Lucas. But knowing he’d researched me made me feel like the last months had been an act to get me to want him . . . and he’d just been laughing as he’d watched Kyle’s pain.
He is the devil.
The door unlocked and opened, and Lucas stood there with his arms folded over his chest. He was struggling to maintain a blank expression, but other intense emotions kept fighting and winning with brief glimpses. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and it took me a second to realize it looked like he had been crying. But devils didn’t cry.
“Do you still love him?” he asked, his tone sure and not showing any of the war playing out on his face.
“Yes,” I replied after a brief hesitation. There was no falling out of love with Kyle and our past. He had been my best friend, and I’d planned on spending the rest of my life with him. I would always love him in a way.
Lucas stared straight ahead for a minute with a resigned look on his face, not seeing anything in that room. Unfolding his arms, he placed his hands in his pants pockets and hardened his expression. My chest tightened, and I wanted to cry all over again at seeing this man in front of me.
Hello, Devil.
“Go take a shower, Briar.”
“Wh—”
“Don’t question me.” He turned and left without another word, and after a minute, I picked myself up off the floor and went to my bathroom.
I showered slowly and dried my hair the same. I wasn’t in a hurry to spend the day in my room, and there was no way I could spend the day with Lucas while he acted indifferent, like nothing had ever happened.
After finding my comfiest clothes, I walked into my room and slowed to a stop when I saw what was on my bed. I glanced over to my shut bedroom door then hesitantly walked over to the bed to pick up the papers and a thick envelope underneath them.
The first was a printed itinerary with my name at the top. My eyebrows rose as I wondered if this was how things would be now, but then I paused and started from the top again, sure I had gotten it wrong when I saw two key words . . .
Atlanta, Georgia.
“Oh my God,” I said on a breath. It was an itinerary for a one-way flight to Georgia. The flight was circled with Lucas’s scrawl next to it: Tonight! Below, was a number for a cab.
I flipped to the next page, and my heart dropped to my stomach when I saw the two hand-written pages. I barely noticed myself sink to the floor.
My blackbird,
I don’t know how to do this at all, but I know I can’t do it looking into your broken eyes. While I watched you sleep this morning, I thought of a life without you, and knew I would rather welcome death than go through one, but I can’t continue to force you to live this way.
You said your wings were broken without me near . . . if you stayed, one day you would realize that your wings are broken because I’m near. And watching them break over and over again because of something I do or say . . . I wish you knew how many times I’ve wanted to tear out my own heart.
You were never meant for this life. I mean that literally. I should have never looked you up. Never. I expected you to lie and say things about people coming to look for you, but when I saw the tan line on your finger and remembered the engagement ring you’d asked about, I wondered if you hadn’t been lying—and that wouldn’t have
matched the girl the sellers had supposedly taken. The type of girls they always take. So I looked up your name.
From what I’ve pieced together, you covered a shift at work for the girl who was supposed to be taken.
I became obsessed with knowing what the updates were on your case, and that included checking his social media. I’m sorry for keeping it from you, but I was worried about what it would do to us if you knew.
I could force you to stay here forever—I’m supposed to—and I know we could be happy. Incredibly, if the past couple months are any indication. But a part of you would always hate me, Briar. Always. I can’t give you everything you want, and eventually we both know there will come a time when I would break your wings all over again, and I don’t think I can watch that happen again.
It’s obvious he’s still waiting for you, and like you said, you still love him.
Go. Run, Briar.
I promise not to chase you.
Your devil.
I choked on a sob and pressed my fist over my mouth, trying to force my tears back, but they poured from me as if my greatest love had just been torn from my life. Looking at the envelope, I saw it was full of money, and I wished Lucas was there so I could throw it in his face.
I hated him. I hated him for doing this to me. Why couldn’t he see what he meant to me? Why couldn’t he be the man who wouldn’t shut down at the mention of me loving him too? And why would he give me this ticket after today—the hardest day I’d had in over a month?
Grabbing the papers and envelope, I went through the upper level and down to the street level, my steps slowing as I did. It still felt odd to be down there. Lucas never had said I could be there, or that he trusted me . . . there’d just been last night and then this morning—and then I’d been thrown in the starter room.
I went through every room looking for him in the off chance he had stayed, and finally went into his office. It was empty, but the large computer was a glaring reminder of what had happened, of what had stolen our moment of happiness.