Thy Kingdom Come

They knew I had a nose ring—as does Cian—which is why they mistook him for me. He also said they knew a lot about me. But they never told him how they knew. The man I burned alive had said it was Erin, but how would she know this?

Someone must be relaying information back to her. But who?

The moment I unlock my door, I know someone is inside. Flicking on the light, I see Babydoll curled up on the couch, asleep. I don’t know why she’s here, especially since she’s been ignoring me for days.

I’m about to shower and wash the paint from my face, but she stirs. “Punky?”

“Aye.”

She sits up and rubs the sleep from her eyes. “Your face.”

I’m still coming to terms with her American accent. Not because I don’t like it, but rather, that I still don’t know who she is.

She jumps up and makes her way over to me. I stand tall, allowing her to gently turn my cheeks so she can take a closer look at my face.

“What happened?”

“What happened was my best friend was beaten within an inch of his life. If he hadn’t called me, I don’t know what would have happened.”

I don’t know why I’m telling her this. But she has this effect on me. I just can’t say no to her.

“Why is your face painted like this?”

She understands the significance of it. She knows something serious went down.

“Because someone thought he was me.”

She casts her eyes downward, obviously disgusted with what that means.

“These hands,” I say, turning them over. “They’ve killed, and they won’t stop killin’. Y’ve got to leave me be, Babydoll. I can offer ye nothin’.”

Her silence is deafening.

I don’t know where she’s been, but honestly, I don’t care because I’m so happy she’s here now.

“I know what I’m getting myself into,” she finally speaks, caressing my cheek. “And besides, it’s not like I don’t have baggage of my own.”

“Who are ye?” I ask again, hoping this time she’ll finally tell me the truth.

She bites her bottom lip. “I can’t tell you.”

Frustrated, I remove her hand and take a step away from her. “Ye need to leave. I don’t trust ya.”

Tears swell in her green eyes. “I understand that. I haven’t given you reason to. But have I ever hurt you? Haven’t I always had your back? Can’t you just trust me?”

She’s right, although she’s lied to me, she’s always had my back. But I don’t trust her. “I can’t trust ya,” I confess. “I don’t know who y’are.”

“Trust your…feelings for me,” she says softly. “They’re real. I know they are…just how mine are for you.”

Her face is heavy with emotion, begging I confirm what she just said.

“Where’ve y’been?” I ask in vain as I know she won’t answer me.

When she doesn’t reply, I shake my head. “This is exactly the reason I can’t trust ya, regardless of my feelin’s. Ya need to go.”

I turn my back, but she reaches out and snares my forearm.

Peering down at her fingers, I give her a silent warning. If she has a point, best she makes it now. “So you admit you do have feelings for me?”

“What difference does it make? Those feelin’s mean fuck all without trust. I know yer not tellin’ me somethin’ because yer afraid. But I’d never hurt ye. I’d never judge ye. But ya still won’t tell me, and those feelin’s of betrayal are more important than any others.

“I’ve been lied to my entire life. I’m done with it.”

She nods, holding back her tears. “I promise, all of this will make sense soon. Can you just trust me until then?”

“I don’t know that I can,” I reply honestly.

Her grip around me trembles, but I stand firm.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” she confesses, permitting her tears to fall. “I know you probably don’t believe me, but I’ve risked so much…for you. I knew the consequences, but I didn’t care. If only you knew what that meant, you’d understand why I’m doing what I am.

“I fall to pieces when I’m with you, and I don’t even care because I know you’ll be there to help me heal. You’ve always been there.

“We don’t make sense, but you can’t deny this attraction. It was there from the first moment we met. Not just physically, but in here as well.” She places her hand on my chest over my hammering heart. “This is as honest as I can be for now. Please let it be enough.”

Every part of me is demanding I throw her out. It’s what I should have done ages ago, but instead, I place my hand over hers. “Sure, this is it.”

She smiles, cementing how fucked I really am. I know this is wrong and probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life, but I’m knackered fighting a war I don’t want to win.

She loops her fingers through mine and leads me toward the bathroom. I go willingly. I allow her to unzip my hoodie and watch as she drops it to the floor. Without a word, she takes off my T-shirt, coaxing me to lift my arms so she can slip it over my head.

Once I’m topless, she turns on the tap and wets a facecloth with hot water. Wringing it out, she commences to wipe my face clean. The act is filled with kindness and care. I’ve never been tended to this way before.

A knot forms in my stomach because I’m falling for Babydoll, and I know I’ve passed the point of no return.

Once my face is clean, she chews her bottom lip and slips out of her blue dress. She stands before me in a black bra and matching underwear. She then reaches around her back and unhooks her bra. The moment she allows it to fall and I see her beautiful tits, I sigh, feeling at home being with her this way.

She clutches onto my belt buckle and draws me toward her, where she unfastens my belt and then my jeans. I’m not wearing any boxers, so a small gasp leaves her when she sees me semi-erect. I step out of my jeans and await further command.

Her cheeks turn scarlet, but she loops her fingers in the waistband of her underwear and takes them off.

I love her body—supple but strong. I know she’s embarrassed with me looking at her this way, but I can’t stop.

She reaches into the shower and turns on the water, using her hand to test the temperature. When it’s right, she steps inside and offers a hand, welcoming me inside. I accept, and the moment I step under the spray, a sated groan leaves me as the scalding water feels perfect against my skin.

Babydoll lathers the sponge with the soap and proceeds to wash my body, standing on her toes to reach my upper shoulders and back. I allow her to tend to me because I like it. I like her looking after me because her strength, her stubbor

Babydoll is my equal in every sense of the word. She said she’s risked so much for me, and I believe her. For her to tell me about the raid, to give back my brooch, to be here now, tending to me when I’ve been nothing but an arsehole to her, confirms that she has fought for me, for us, regardless of the consequences.

And that’s the reason I can’t push her away.

I’m sick of losing the people I lo—

I soon stop myself from thinking such thoughts because love is something I know nothing about. But what I feel now for Babydoll, it comes fucking close.

The water falls around us, and I resist the urge to lick the trickles off Babydoll’s perfect tits. She washes over my chest and stomach, caressing over the barbell in my nipple, driving me fucking insane. When she dips low, brushing over my erection, we both hiss at the co

But she doesn’t let that distract her from getting me clean.

She washes my thighs and just as she is about to drop to her knees to wash my calves and feet, I stop her. “Never drop to yer knees for a man.”