My Dark Desire: Chapter 93
D-DAY.
Nature: 3.
Zach Sun: 0.
It took five hours to reach the sporting arena. Five hours in a shitty rental car held together by Gorilla Glue and prayers.
I hadn’t showered or changed in three days, forgetting my luggage in Chiang Mai. It seemed particularly cruel that, for someone who forbade staff from wearing scented products, I had to suffer through five fucking hours of my own stench.
In the last thirty-minute stretch, the heater died a cruel death. The temperature plummeted to forty degrees within minutes. I still hadn’t found a damn coat.
I slugged through rain, knuckles the color of milk, hoping to hell I’d make it before the competition ended.
The arena sign glistened in the downpour like a beacon. Thousands of cars filled the lot from end to end.
With no chance at finding a spot, I parked in a tow zone right out front, slamming the door behind me.
“She better be here.”
It would be just my luck to be misdirected by a horrible game of telephone. I’d gotten Fae’s location from Romeo, who had gotten her location from Dallas, who had gotten her location from Hettie, who had gotten her location from Frankie, whom I considered as reliable as the pull-out method.
I shoved my entire wallet into the ticket booth and stormed past the barrier without waiting. The contents of my inner suit pocket smacked my chest with each step.
My right loafer fell off as I tore through the halls like a bull. I didn’t have time to pick it up.
A child darted out of my path. He dropped his cotton candy, crying at the sight of me.
I could only assume how I looked. Cheeks flushed pink from being frozen just shy of frostbite. Lips set in a firm line. Hair dancing with the wind.
Truly, Farrow had chosen the worst season to cure me.
So fucking cold.
The corridor bled into the arena, where thousands of people cheered from stadium seats. I would never find her in this crowd.
“Attention: the final match begins in three minutes.”
The words echoed from speakers in every corner. It came from a booth at the edge of the bleachers.
I marched over, snatched the mic from the horrified announcer, and paraded to the center of the piste, too determined to process any embarrassment.
I tapped the mic. “Farrow Ballantine?”
The buzz of the crowd lulled before picking up again.
A row of uniformed fencers halted a few feet away, staring at me through masks. One of them nudged another and pointed at me with the tip of a sword.
“Farrow.” I spun one-eighty, trying to spot her in the sea of faces. “Are you there?”
“The fuck are you doing?”
It came from a random dude in the stadium.
I worked a thumb over my jaw, speaking into the mic through gritted teeth. “The fuck I’m doing is trying to get my girl back.”
The crowd erupted in pandemonium.
Most hollered.
Some jeered.
And I’d officially run out of fucks to give.
“Good Lord, that man is fine.” A woman whistled. “Dress me up like an ice cream cone, and let me lick him.”
I’d become a laughingstock in the span of a minute, and fuck it. I didn’t want to extend an olive branch. I wanted to give Farrow Ballantine the whole damn tree.
“Farrow…” I pulled my shoulders back, gazing into the throngs of faceless people. “Our entire relationship has been a secret. Tucked in the dark alleys of our lives. No more. Whether you accept me or reject me, I am done pretending I’m not yours.”
“Hey, man.” Another damn heckler. “Where is your shoe?”
The entire audience laughed.
I carried on, ignoring them. “I spent my entire adult life living without actually living. You blazed into my life so unexpected. A breath of fresh air. You taught me how to move on, how to overcome my past, and how to live. I can touch again.”
Someone catcalled.
More snickers.
Maybe I should’ve cared about revealing my secret to the world, but I didn’t. Getting Farrow back mattered more.
“Just now, I drove five hours in the rain in a shitty rental, and I didn’t pull over, didn’t vomit, didn’t stop. That’s all you, Octi.” I pivoted, facing the other half of the crowd, covering my bases. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. That I didn’t make you my priority the minute I met you. You deserve so much more.”
I gripped the microphone harder. My vision blurred. I was running on approximately six hours of sleep, spread across four days. “Remember when you told me about the Lobster Telephone? You were right. Everyone has a favorite work of art. You’re mine.”
Silence.
Every person in the entire arena had gone utterly silent.
Where the hell was Farrow?
Dammit. I’m going to burn all your credit cards, Frankie.
“Excuse me?” An official tapped on my shoulder, shuffling from foot to foot. She toyed with the end of her ponytail. “We have a match right now.”
“Postpone it.”
“But—”
I glared at her until she scurried away.
Alone again, I swung to the other half of the stadium, adjusting my grip on the mic. “Farrow, I tried to fight the spell you put me under. I lied to myself. I lied to you. Life is messy. Love is risky. And I was perfectly safe in my sterile bubble.”
I didn’t care that I had a faceless audience. Didn’t care that I was pouring my heart out.
For once, I needed to be courageous with my heart.
I sucked in a breath.
“I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t have total control over myself. But it’s true. I don’t.” I gestured down at my unkempt state as proof. “I am so uncontrollably mad for you. Since I met you, there hasn’t been a single day that’s passed where every second isn’t consumed by thoughts of you.”
At my words, a single fencer among the row of competitors edged back.
Farrow.
Her shoulders began shaking, rattling her whole frame. She looked so much skinnier in her uniform, so slight, I barely recognized her.
It never occurred to me that her month of soul searching would be so hard on her. Dallas had assured me, over and over again, that she was thriving.
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. The sight of her crying unleashed chaos in me.
I strode to her, snatching up her gloved hand. “I didn’t have the chance to grab the engagement ring from home, but I brought this.”
When I pulled back, her arms crossed over her stomach, shoulders still shaking.
I reached into my inner suit pocket and produced a beatdown, torn-apart sneaker. The one she’d left behind all those months ago.
The crowd began clamoring again, whispers snaking down to us.
“Is that a shoe?”
“Maybe he should find his own shoe first.”
“Ew. That thing belongs in hazmat containment.”
I ignored the noise, got down on one knee, and collected Fae’s hand again, speaking into the microphone to silence the stadium.
“I know the world is awful, and ugly, and tiring. I know it hurt you, betrayed you, and shattered your soul. But if there is any ounce of love left in you, would it be selfish of me to ask for it? I promise I’ll protect it. I promise I’ll protect you.” I squeezed her hand through the heavily padded glove. “I love you, Farrow Ballantine. Will you marry me?”
From the seats, a tiny black dog sprinted to us and snatched the shoe out of my hand, running in circles with it clamped between its molars.
Little shit.
“Did you say love?”
I snapped my head up at the voice, spinning around when I realized it had come from behind me.
Farrow Ballantine stood before me in all her glory.
Beautiful, and breathtaking, and glowing, and mine.
She wore flushed cheeks, a sheepish smile, and a coaching uniform draped over with an ID lanyard.
For the first time in a month, I felt alive again.
“Octi.”
The fencer I’d mistaken for Farrow tore off his mask, revealing a skinny preteen with his face painted in a grimace.
“Sorry, bro. One second, I was laughing. And the next, you stormed over here.” He shrugged, backing away. “You just grabbed my hand, dude. I didn’t know what to do.”
In the distance, Oliver’s distinct laughter pierced the moment. The crowd remained silent, eager to catch our conversation, now that I had ditched the mic.
Farrow collected my hand, intertwining our fingers. “Did you say love?”
Despite the near frostbite, all I could feel was warmth.
I cupped her cheeks, bringing our foreheads together, breathing her in.
“I’m madly in love with you, Farrow. You have completely consumed me. Heart, body, and soul. There’s no one else. Never has been. Never will be.”
“Zach…” She glanced down at the piste, then peered up at me beneath a curtain of impossibly long lashes. “What is this?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “A declaration of love. A groveling scheme. And… a marriage proposal?”
For the first time since the accident, I relinquished control.
I was soaring into the unknown without a plan, completely at the whims of Fate, and scared shitless. With only Dad’s dying words and the woman of my dreams to accompany me.
I’d never felt so damn alive.
“You do realize this is so unlike you.”
“I do.”
“And that everyone in the state will know about this by the end of the hour.”
“I don’t care.”
“Including your mother.”
“She approves of our relationship.”
Farrow’s lips parted. “She does?”
“I swear it.”
At my words, she nodded, processing the news.
Finally, she squeezed my hand, staring down at where we joined. “Tell me something about the octopus.”
I answered without missing a beat. “The octopus ranks highest in the animal kingdom at camouflage. It can change colors in an instant, contort its own body, and rearrange its arms. That’s what you did. You slipped into my life pretending to be a problem and turned out to be my solution. My salvation.”
On cue, the dog sprinted over to our heels, dropping Fae’s shoe on the piste with a bark. I’d kill the little shit’s owner if I weren’t so eager to propose to Octi right this second.
Dropping to my knee, I collect her ankle, slid her sneaker off, and replaced it with her old shoe she’d left behind. A tiny gasp rushed past her lips.
“Perfect fit. Just like you.” I peered up at her, thumbing a circle on her ankle. “Say yes, Farrow.”
She sank her teeth into her lower lip, feigning hesitation, but I knew she hid a grin beneath that bite. “Are we endgame now?”
“Baby, we’re not only endgame. We’re in our own goddamn league. Please, put me out of my misery and say yes.”
Our friends—correction: our family—materialized at the edge of the piste, shooting out their unsolicited opinions in rapid succession.
Romeo flicked something off his suit. “I’m embarrassed for you, Zachary.”
Dallas swatted his shoulder. “Why haven’t you confessed your love for me in public?”
“I took a bullet for you in public.” He turned to Fae, nodding in my direction. “The only way he’ll be able to show his face in this town again is if you say yes.”
Farrow snorted, her ankle waving in my palms with the movement.
Frankie shoved Romeo out of the way, fighting to get closer to us. “We all know your answer, Fae. Can you hurry it up? He’s been a miserable asshole since you left.”
“Say yes, girl.” Dallas jumped up and down, holding her belly still. “Also, did you know octopus brains are shaped like donuts? Epic.”
Fae burst into a fit of giggles. She clutched her stomach, struggling to stay upright with a foot in my hands.
You wouldn’t have to struggle so much if you’d just say yes, dammit.
“This is too good.” Oliver slow-clapped. “I’m the last bachelor standing. Does this mean I won the bet?”
Hettie stood off to the side, carrying a tub of something in front of her. “Good thing I bought popcorn.”
Farrow’s fingers curled around her throat. An audible whoosh soared past her lips.
She admired our friends for another moment before returning her gaze to mine. “You gave me a family.”
“I had nothing to do with it.” I shook my head. “You earned a family all on your own. They love you.”
Her fingers dropped.
She pulled back her shoulders, all business now. “If we get married, I expect to maintain my independence.”
“Done.”
“I’ll continue to work full-time. As a coach.”
“Of course.”
I knew, firsthand, she’d be the best at it.
“And… and… and…” She brought her fingertip to her lips, thinking hard. “I’ll still argue with you constantly. You won’t be able to burrow your way back into my good graces with designer bags.”
“That’s fine. I’ll burrow my way back into your good graces with your favorite things.”
“And what are those?”
“Hard facts and orgasms.”
Farrow sucked in a breath. My heartbeats intensified. Euphoria decanted over me like spring water.
My stupid heart swelled to an impossible size, a balloon about to pop.
Say yes, baby girl. Come on.
A grin crept up her cheeks. Laughter danced across her lips. She swallowed it down.
Finally—finally—she gave me her answer.
“Yes.”
I shot up, scooped her into my arms, and gave her the deepest, hungriest, realest kiss we’d ever shared.
Our friends broke out in cheers, sending the crowd into chaos, too. Everyone around us clapped, whistled, and hollered.
Even the asshole dog started running in circles around us, barking.
“Oh.” Fae giggled into our kiss, snapping her fingers as she remembered something. “I have a dog now.”
“We have a dog now.” I spoke against her lips, refusing to part. And goddammit, we had a dog now.
“Oliver says you hate messes.”
“Only when that mess is Oliver himself.”
She pulled back a little. Her thumb traveled to my neck, brushing right beneath my ear. “I figured out why I love you.”
Our noses touched.
I nuzzled mine against hers as we tried to steady our breaths. “And why is that?
“You’re my home.”
“I figured out why I love you,” I countered.
“And why is that?”
“You make my soul breathe fire, my beautiful dark desire.”