Chapter 11 Maya was still asleep beside me, her breathing slow and deep, one thigh draped over mine like she'd claimed me in her dreams. I slid her leg off the bed without waking her, sat up, and grabbed my phone. 44 missed calls. 12 voicemails. All from Alessia. An Additional 2 from her mother. Fuck. I pulled on my pants and stepped outside. The morning air was damp, the neighborhood quiet. Leaning against the porch railing, I called Priest. He answered like he'd been waiting. "You good?" "Need a cover. We were together last night." He echoed, "We were together last night?" "Yeah." There was a pause. "Were you with Maya?" "Yeah." "I understand. Logistics talk. Tampa. You were off-grid." "Thanks." I hung up and dialed Alessia. She picked up before the second ring. "Raziel?" Her voice cracked. "Where the fuck have you been?" "With Priest." There was a sharp inhale. "All night?" "Yes." "I called. I texted. I didn't know if something happened to you. I barely slept." "You sound fine now." "I'm not fine." She snapped, then sniffled-perfectly timed for guilt. "You just disappear?" "I didn't disappear. I was unavailable for a few hours." The silence was back, but this time it was the dramatic kind where she wanted me to hear the tears she was holding back. She let out just enough to sound wounded, not enough to be annoying. "You could've told me." "Didn't think it was necessary." Another pause. She was waiting for an apology. She wouldn't get one. "I'll be home soon." I hung up without waiting for her to respond. I slid the phone back into my pocket and stepped inside. Maya was awake now, stretched out in my bed. The sheets barely covered her hips. Her hair was wild-another style. She called the bob she was wearing her "scammer wig." Her eyes were still soft from sleep, face puffy, lips pouty. She eyed me for a minute. "Alessia?" I nodded. "When's the wedding date?" The question hit without warning. "February fourteenth," I answered automatically. I wasn't even thinking when I said it. Maya raised an eyebrow. "Valentine's Day? That's cute." Her tone was unreadable. She sat up, letting the sheet fall, completely unbothered by her own nakedness. My eyes dropped to the stretch marks on her wide hips. I licked my lips before my gaze traveled back up. "So five months from now..." Her smile was small. Sharp. "That's our expiration date." She stood and sauntered over to me, hips rolling slow, like she'd practiced the walk just to ruin men like me. Her skin glowed in the morning light. "Gimme a hug before you go." I didn't move. Because something akin to fear held me in place. What did she mean, expiration date? I wanted to reach up and rub the spot across my heart that suddenly ached. She stepped right into my space anyway, arms sliding around my waist. She smelled like last night-like heat, skin, and sex. She pressed her mouth to the center of my chest, right over my heart, and lingered there a second too long before pulling away. Then she turned, completely unfazed, and walked into the bathroom, her bare back disappearing behind the door like she hadn't just dropped a bomb and walked away from the wreckage. I stood there, rooted in place, wondering how the hell she could say something like that so easily. She was the one who'd chased me in the beginning. The one who clung like she didn't want to let go. Now she was acting like this was nothing. Was she really okay with me marrying another woman? Or had I pushed her away so much she didn't care what happened next? I didn't know what I was feeling. Her words shouldn't have meant anything. We weren't anything. But the way she said it-That's our expiration date-it echoed. I hated how much they bothered me. More than they should've. Because five months wasn't a long time. But suddenly it felt even shorter. Five-year-old Annie, who can understand animals, saved Landon Hawthorne, a wealthy businessman, from suicide. Now she's his whole world and he's her legal cheat-code against every villain fate throws ...