Epilogue

HENRY CAMBERS

^TWO YEARS LATER^

I’m sitting in my newly rented car, observing her and my son as they walk into the community center, surrounded by two bodyguards.

Her hair, now longer than I remember, falls past her waist in loose curls.

Her body has changed, muscles replacing the softness of her youth.

She’s wearing black shorts that cling to her figure, ending just below her belly button and barely covering her bottom.

Her top is conservative, covering her arms and chest, but not much else.

A smile I’ve never seen before illuminates her face, emitting an energy I can’t quite pinpoint.

She’s with four children, a little girl who resembles her at that age, clutching her fingers.

The girl has tight, red curls, a heart-shaped face, and fair skin.

She’s small, with a pair of eyes that are an unusual color.

They’re breathtaking, mesmerizing, dreamlike.

Then there’s the little girl my son is holding onto.

She’s taller, more robust, with brown hair and a round face.

Through my binoculars, I see two identical boys in the stroller, their faces turned toward their mother.

Their smiles show straight teeth, dimples, and dark hair.

There’s no question about who their father is.

His face is as vivid in my mind as my princess’s, and their faces reflect his in a more youthful way.

My princess has a family now, and I wish I could honor her wishes, keep my promise, and leave her alone…but I can’t.

The darker side of me compels me to get closer, while the rational side, the side I discovered in prison, urges me to back off, to create distance between us so I won’t hurt her again.

There’s a conflict within me that I’m losing, and I’m frustrated with myself for not having the strength to stay away.

But she’s my addiction, my drug, and after being without her for so long, the cravings have become a part of my life.

Pictures can only provide so much.

I miss her unique scent, the sounds she used to make when she was with me, the way her hair would catch the sun and glow with shades of copper.

I miss watching her play the piano, or sketch by the back doors, taking in the countryside we once lived in.

All those things that used to arouse me are what I long for.

I need to stop.

I’m just observing, just looking. There’s nothing wrong with that.

That’s true. I’m not doing anything wrong…yet.

They all enter the building, leaving the two guards outside on a bench by the door.

There are a few things they could be doing in the center.

The most probable is attending a baby group, a place for parents to interact with their children and teach them social skills, according to their website.

I have all the information printed out at home, the home I gave her, the home we shared for six years.

The monster inside me hopes she’ll find her way back.

I push away the voice that I’ve come to recognize as a darker part of me.

She didn’t accept anything I offered.

But the homes I’ve visited since getting out have been kept clean, the furniture covered to prevent dust.

The codes haven’t changed, and nothing has been taken.

I don’t know if she read the pack, or if she looked for her mother, my legal wife, or if she sought out her father, my supposed best friend in Ireland.

I have no clue how she’s doing or if she’s truly happy now.

Our last interaction keeps replaying in my mind.

She came to the prison willingly that day, touched me, climbed into my lap of her own accord.

I didn’t ask or beg—or threaten anything to have her then, and that’s when she broke me.

My life could have been different with my princess because Violet loves me.

I mishandled our relationship.

Maybe if I had courted her when she started becoming a woman, if she had her own apartment and I made her fall in love with me with grand gestures from a young age.

Maybe I should have been honest and told her about my condition, about my love for her and how it affects me, how possessive it makes me.

Those kids she was with could have been mine.

Ours!

But you messed that all up, didn’t you, you piece of shit?

Yes, I did. I let the monster, that voice within me…lead me to hurt her.

To take her.

All those years I barely held onto control were ruined that fateful night in their apartment all those years ago, when I violated her for the first time.

Maybe if I hadn’t killed her child, she might not have hated me so much.

Maybe if Matthew hadn’t died, I might have had a chance at redemption.

There might have been a way I could convince her to come back to me, to lead a somewhat…normal life with me.

I don’t think I have that option now.

This is going to have to be enough, because I fear she meant what she said when she said goodbye in the courtroom, her eyes never really meeting mine.

I guess that was it for her, and I wish that wasn’t so hard for me to accept.

You could always…lure her, seduce her…then take her?

I ignore the sly comment from the voice in my head.

No, this is as close to my princess as I will get now, and it will have to be enough.

I’ll have to change my car every week, park in different places, and maybe even find the different places she visits so I can watch from more than one location.

Variety means less exposure, especially when she never leaves her overly secure home without at least two guards at all times.

It’s not illegal for me to be near her.

I have no restrictions. Technically, I’m a free man, but I don’t want to be caught…because then they will know I am here and make it impossible for me to feed my addiction, my princess.

End of Book 4