Cross (The Formicary Book 2), page 26
The older woman frowned. When I looked around at some of the faces surrounding me, I realized she wasn’t the only one displeased by my self-derision. “Why do you say such things?” she asked.
I firmed my jaw. “Because they’re true. And glossing over the truth doesn’t make it otherwise.”
“You are our hero,” she repeated definitively in that tone that older people use when they’ve had about enough of your lip. “Saying that you’re not changes nothing.”
I could tell that it was important to them to believe that unequivocally, but I couldn’t leave well enough alone. “I am not a good man,” I said carefully. Gray huffed beside me, but I sent him a look of warning. If I didn’t get this out now, I never would. I didn’t know what Old Me had told these people before I stashed them in the jungle, but they needed to know the unvarnished truth. “The things I’ve done—”
“Are in the past,” she said calmly. “Look around. What do you see?”
I glanced around the busy village. A couple of teens were fishing by the river while an older man sat on a bucket nearby, cleaning their bounty as fast as they could catch them. A group of young children played with a ball near the center of the square, one of them kicking it into a line of hanging laundry. A very pregnant woman—still hanging the rest of the load—scolded them to be careful as she shook out a sheet. People walked about talking, working, playing…living. Some might look at this place and think that it lacked creature comforts. All I saw was community. Family.
The older woman smiled a little, knowing already in her blue eyes. “Well? What do you see?”
“I see paradise,” I said honestly.
Her smile grew wider, revealing a few missing teeth that did nothing to diminish the power of that smile. “That’s what I see, too. And all of this is because of you.”
I could only look at her wordlessly.
“Stay. Relax. Enjoy what you’ve sacrificed so much to create.” She touched my cheek gently with a wrinkled hand that felt like tissue paper—soft and dry and fragile. Her thumb came away wet, and I realized my vision was a little blurry. “You named this place Sano for a reason. So be healed, child.”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t deserve their gratitude—I was almost afraid to even believe in it because it meant too much. It could be taken away at any time. But I just swallowed and nodded. I followed one of the women to a large tent they were preparing for Gray and me. Several of the villagers trailed behind us, eager to tell me recent news of their lives…these people that I didn’t even know. I wanted to, though.
I listened, taking it all in.
Sano was about the most peaceful place I’d ever been.
Later that day, I made the trek to take a closer look at the falls. It was nearing dusk, and I could feel and hear the atmosphere of the jungle changing—some animals went to sleep as different ones started waking up. I stood as close to the falls as I dared, almost mesmerized by the rushing water.
Now that I knew what the tattoo meant, I had a feeling about why I’d had it inked on my skin. Ironically, I hadn’t been worried about forgetting. I’d probably just wanted to have it close at hand to remind me that I wasn’t Petar Dobroslav. That there was goodness in me. No matter what else I’d done, I’d managed to do something right.
It was beyond strange to know that the people in Sano were there because an assassin had an attack of conscience. I was hardly a candidate for a humanitarian award. I’d done a lot of bad things to a lot of people. I couldn’t even claim that at least they deserved it because I didn’t fucking know. My grandfather had given me orders, and I’d followed them to the letter. You get to live, but you there, you have to die. I’d played God for far too long, and I’d always struggle with that knowledge.
I knew the moment Gray approached, but I didn’t turn around. His arms came around my waist, and I leaned into him with a small sigh. He pressed his cheek against my back. “How are you?”
“All things considered? Okay.” I gave his arm a rub. “Thank you for making me come here. It helped…I think.”
“That’s my job,” he said. I could tell he was smiling. “You deserve to be happy, Christian. And anything I can do to make that a reality, I will do.”
“You already make me happier than I deserve.” I chuckled. “And hey, at least now you know I did something good.”
His arms fell away, and I mourned the loss. When he came around to face me, his expression was dead serious. “This trip was for you, Chris. Not me. I already know who you are.” He eyed my shorn head and shook his head a little. “I don’t know when you’re going to start believing that.”
I didn’t either. I also couldn’t wait for my hair to grow back so he could stop looking at me like that. “I forgot to tell them that Dobroslav is dead.”
“You forgot more than that,” he said. “You get to tell that they can go home.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that simple. I’m sure that some of the threats still exist. Like Gio’s brother, for example. I don’t think he’s any keener to share his father’s fortune now than he was years ago.”
“Maybe not, but you can help them with that. Little by little. I have faith in you.” His eyes were dark pools of trust that made my heart squeeze uncomfortably in my chest. “They’re free. And so are you.”
I looked at him, acknowledging the truth of that. “I suppose I am.” I held out my hand, and he put his hand in mine. I held it tight. “Gray?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I never remember?” I bit my lip. “What if this is as good as it gets, and we just have to start from here?”
“We’ll make new memories.”
“What if I mess up again? What if—”
“We live happily ever after and love each other forever?” He pretended to think. “That’ll work.”
We watched the sun go down and the sky darken, his hand secure in mine. Yeah, I liked that idea, too. “I’m never going to let you go, you know,” I said wryly. “I’m sorry about that, but it’s true.”
Most people would probably find that a little concerning, especially coming from someone who could bench-press a refrigerator. But when I glanced at Gray, his mouth was pulled into a little smile. “What makes you think I want you to?”
“I just…I need you in a way that scares me sometimes.” Even as I said the words, I acknowledged that maybe the need itself wasn’t scary. The scary part was what I was willing to do to anyone who tried to take him from me.
He squeezed me hand. “You need to believe me when I say I know the feeling.”
Then we were an even more perfect match than I thought. We should just get matching tattoos that read, you’d better not even look at him wrong.
“It’s hard to believe that getting shot in the head was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He bumped my shoulder. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“I’m actually not. It led me back to you. When I started to understand the sheer scope of everything I’d forgotten, I felt overwhelmed. Angry. Bitter. But underneath it all, I was grateful.”
His brows knitted together. “Grateful?”
“That I remembered you.” I shook my head wryly. “For the longest time, I had no idea why I got lucky enough to remember my most important person, but now I know.”
He tilted his head to the side as he pretended to think. “Probably because of my sparkling personality.”
“Nah.”
“My stunning good looks?”
“That seems a bit farfetched to me.”
“My monster dick?” His eyes sparkled. “That’s gotta be it. My monster fucking dick.”
I chuckled. “Wait, I thought I was the one who got shot in the head?”
He belted me in the arm. “You could’ve let me have that one.”
“We promised not to lie to one another,” I said solemnly, which garnered me another playful hit. “Besides, I have a guess of my own.”
“Yeah? It’d better be good to make up for your slander of my dick.”
“I knew better than to forget your name. Your face. How you taste. Your scent.”
“I don’t have a scent,” he huffed. “I’m extremely hygienic.”
“This nose says you do. When you come home from work, you always smell faintly of evergreen and antiseptic. Probably from washing your hands all the damn time with that soap they have all over the hospital.” I caught those hands in mine and brushed my lips over his knuckles. “Now I can’t walk through a forest without getting a boner.”
He laughed at my foolishness, and I decided not to tell him I wasn’t kidding. “Cut the sweet talk, Cross. Let’s get to your theory of why you won’t ever forget me.”
“My heart doesn’t know how to beat without you.” I leaned down and kissed him softly, just a brush of my lips against his. “That’s as simple as it gets.”
He stared at me for a few beats, his throat working. It took him a few moments to speak. “I love you. And I’m always going to make sure that you know it.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel like I deserved the love Gray freely gave me. But knowing I had a lifetime to love and be loved by him? He linked his hands at my nape, bringing my face down for a kiss, and I smiled against his mouth.
Yeah, a guy could get used to that.
Afterword
Dear Reader,
I hope you had a good time with Christian and Grayson. I hate to let them go, but the writer in me is happy that they’re happy.
I’m sure some people are wondering about the naming of these characters. All I can say is that the phrase “shit happens” will be on my tombstone. Grayson’s name was originally Weston (West). In my infinite wisdom, I decided to change it. He eventually became Grayson to me. I loved him, I loved the name, and all was well in the kingdom.
But then.
After Chrysalis was published, my sister read the blurb on the back of the book, and alerted me to the obvious. Yep. You’re looking at probably the only person in the world who hasn’t seen or read 50 Shades. I was aghast.
“Well, it’s not like she owns that name,” my sister said sensibly.
To which I responded, “No, she doesn’t own that name, but that book is very popular. It’s going to evoke a certain character in people’s minds. I might as well have named them Huckleberry and Finn!”
So there you have it. The life of a writer. Coffee, writing, head scratching, more coffee, and realizing far too late that the combined name of your characters is Christian Gray.
Like I said. Shit happens.
If you’re interested in reading more by yours truly, you can follow me on Facebook, Amazon, or Bookbub, so you’ll be notified of new releases. You can also sign up for my newsletter, which you can find on my website, https://seharmon.weebly.com. And feel free to join me in my group on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/seharmon.
I’ll see you on our next fictional journey.
SEH
Acknowledgments
Thank you to everyone who made this book possible. Thank you to Leslie Copeland for her invaluable feedback. And thank you to M.A. Hinkle for your editing prowess—your sacrifices in the name of editing shall not be forgotten. As always, any errors in the book are mine. And a special thank you to everyone who loved Chrysalis. This one is for you.
About the Author
S.E. Harmon has had a lifelong love affair with writing. It’s been both wonderful and rocky (they've divorced several times), but they always manage to come back together. She's a native Floridian with a Bachelor of Arts and a Masters in Fine Arts, and now splits her days between voraciously reading romance novels and squirreling away someplace to write them. Her current beta reader is a nosy American Eskimo who begrudgingly accepts payment in the form of dog biscuits.
Website: https://seharmon.weebly.com/
Email: silkguitar2011@comcast.net
Also by S.E. Harmon
THE FORMICARY
Chrysalis
Cross
Coddiwomple
RULES OF POSSESSION
The Blueprint
A Deeper Blue
THE SPECTRAL FILES
P.S. I Spook You
Principles of Spookology
Spooky Business
THE PI GUYS
Stay With Me
So Into You
M/F
Love Is
S.E. Harmon, Cross (The Formicary Book 2)
