It had taken her years.

Years of merciless strategy, of abandoning the few scruples she had held fast to for the past decade and change. When they took him, when she'd seen what he'd become, Emily had rampaged through the Hamptons, the blonde reaper no one ever saw coming until it was too late.

It was too late for the Graysons, now. Far too late.

Was it too late for Nolan? Emily refused to believe so, and she wouldn't let anyone, including the man himself, tell her otherwise.

Emily followed him into her house, half a dozen steps behind. Letting the man wander, reacquaint himself with the space, Emily went to busy her hands in the kitchen. Nolan was to be a guest in her home, she would see him well fed.

Glancing up, Emily let her eyes linger on him. He was running his fingertips over the back of the sofa, the top of her desk, up the smooth banister of the stairs. How strange it must be for him, to have suffered for years in prison only to return here to the place where their partnership first began.

She waited, knowing what he would find.

It took the man a few moments, but then she saw his posture tense as he stepped closer to it. His eyes were fixed, staring at the mantle - or rather, the urn resting upon it.

"Emily, is this-?"

The woman swallowed before answering him. She had had to give him the horrible news while he was inside, writing him a brief message in the skip code they'd delveloped so he could be sure that the letter had stemmed from her hand. Their sanctioned visit in the conjugal room had taken place the next afternoon. Nolan had been rough with her that day, holding her prone beneath him, biting her neck to keep from crying as he'd pulsed into her from behind.

"Yes. I didn't know what to do with her ashes after, so I kept them here, for you. For when you came home."

Nolan stared at the urn for a few moments longer before turning away, heading for the guest room. "Thank you for keeping it for me."

"Nolan, I was with her. Before the end."

At that, he turned back. "You didn't tell me."

Emily shifted her weight. "I know, I'm sorry. You know why she couldn't visit. But she believed in you, right to the end. She loved you."

"I know. She always did." He looked away from her, fixing his eyes back on the crystal urn. "I wish I could've been there..."

Wishing and hoping and what-ifs would get them nowhere but deeper into regret. Emily couldn't let that happen. "What do you want to do with the ashes?"

The man took a deep breath, his answer only steps outside the house. "The ocean. But not yet. I need more time."

Nolan turned away, into the guest room. Emily nodded, though he was already gone.

Days passed, with Nolan growing more and more despondent. When he spoke, his words were short, and he had long since stopped looking Emily in the eyes. She was living with a ghost, her friend needed more help than she could give. What he needed was some form of closure, a way to move forward, and perhaps another familiar face.

Emily had not seen Jack in months, their silence stretching for so long that she often wondered if he had remained in the Hamptons, or if he had finally decided to pick up his son and start over somewhere new, in a place far away from the nightmare she had made for him here.

It was either stubbornness or sentiment that had kept the man in place. He was the first voice on the phone when she called - "Stowaway...hello? Hello?" followed by a quick click - and Emily had stayed silent until he hung up, probably with the assumption that whoever it was had dialed the wrong number.

Jack had stayed. After the death of his father, after the death of his wife and the death of his brother, he had stayed.

It was a short drive from her house to the bar; Emily had left a note for Nolan that she was running an errand before she took up her keys.

Once the man saw her in person, it had not taken much to convince Jack to come with her back to the beach house. In the past, he had made the habit of coming to her home unannounced, forcing Emily to throw up her defenses, her masking shield of deceit. He had not set foot on her sands since she had confessed the truth, and yet he had come when she pleaded her need for his help with Nolan.

Perhaps, like her, he sought a new beginning. They were all that they had left.

Jack stood at the start of the dock, looking at the hunched figure resting on the far edge, and wondering what the hell he could possibly say to the man. Nolan, the one who had played at being his friend for years, all while partnered in secret with Emily to destroy the family that had ruled over the Hamptons for decades.

But Nolan had also spent years in a cage for his loyalty to the woman. Jack wanted to know why.

He walked toward the man, careful to keep his distance. For all that Nolan was gentle in his memory, he had only just been unleashed after years in prison and would no longer be that sweet man from the past. But then, perhaps Nolan's gentle nature had been a lie as well. Jack had known this man for years, but everything that had ever happened between them, all of it, had been a pack of lies.

Emily and Nolan, they were spiders, spinning constant webs of deceit. These people disgusted him, but he had agreed to speak to the man.

Jack stopped a few yards away, and cleared his throat. "Nolan?"

Startled, Nolan looked back at him, blankly, and it took time before recognition sparked in his eyes. "Captain Jack."

That Nolan hadn't known him immediately was proof enough of his state of mind. Jack felt the knots tighten in his stomach. "It's been a long time."

Nolan looked away, to the water. "Two years, give or take."

Jack shifted his weight. "Yeah, I guess so. How are you?"

Brilliant question.

Nolan stared him down. "Take a guess."

Jack nodded. "Nolan, I need to ask you...what Emily told me..."

Nolan's body tensed, his eyes hard. Jack hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself seem smaller. This was something he understood. God only knew what Nolan had gone through during the years he'd been locked away; if Nolan had been made to suffer, he would see any man, even a former friend, as a threat to answer.

"I know what she told you."

That Emily had confided her true identity to Jack still angered Nolan, even years later. Jack had never been a part of their plans, all he'd done was distract Emily with memories of her first puppy love. Things would have gone differently had it not been for the barkeep's seeking into their affairs, and damn Emily hadn't been able to stay away. In the end, they had all paid for that.

Jack wasn't sure how far he would get with him, this new Nolan. But he had come here to face them, to get the answers he deserved. "I...yeah, she said she saw you on the inside."

Nolan rounded on him, "When she saw me - what did she say?!"

Jack put up his hands, trying to show that he meant no harm. "Just that you were upset to know that she'd told me who she really is, that's all."

"She shouldn't have told you anything. You should have been left out of it."

"I don't think she felt like she had a choice."

Nolan rubbed a hand over his face. "No...I didn't give her a choice, the first time. I took it. After what I did, she should have left me there. She chose to come back, she didn't forget about me."

"Nolan, what are you talking about, man?"

Nolan wasn't talking to Jack now, he was voicing whatever erratic thoughts were coursing through an unstable mind.

Nolan glared over at him, brought back to the present moment. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you."

Nolan laughed at that, a sick barking sound. "You could have seen me any time while I was on the inside, I wasn't going anywhere. You didn't come here for me, you came to see her. All I am is your excuse for this visit."

Jack did not deny it. "I also wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping Emily. Amanda. For saving her."

The wounded hope in Jack's voice sickened Nolan. Jack had spent decades pining after the little girl he'd spent a summer with on the beach, and whether he'd known it or not, he'd made an obstacle of himself in Emily's crusade. If Jack hadn't pursued her first, stirring up Emily's memories...it was his fault, if he hadn't held on all this time, if he had just gone away and if Emily had just let him go...

Nolan scowled, "I didn't save her for you, Jack. What did you think? That after everything, she'd still be that girl you remember, who she always should have been? After everything we've done, we can't go back to how it was before. That's all gone. You have no idea what it took us to get here."

"I didn't mean it that way." Jack said the words, but he couldn't be sure he meant them.

Nolan turned his back, dismissing him. "Good. Emily is not for you, she never was. You need to remember that. Now, are we done here?"

"Yeah, I guess we are."

Jack turned, leaving Nolan to his vigil of the water beneath the pier.

Emily looked up from the chicken she'd just pulled from the oven as Jack reentered the house. She had thought to give the men a bit of time to themselves, time to get reacquainted in the hope that seeing an old friend again would help Nolan adjust to his new freedom.

One look at Jack's face and Emily knew it had not gone well. "What happened?"

Jack shook his head, deeply shaken by what Nolan had become. In all the time he'd known the man, Nolan had never so much as raised his voice - for Nolan to snap as he had, tensing for violence, it had been jarring. "You're right. It changed him."

Wringing her hands, Emily shifted her weight. She hated this, the uncertainty of how to help her friend. "I know it did. Jack, I thought it would be good for him to see a familiar face. I can see I was wrong, I'm sorry."

Jack shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, unsettled. "Can I ask what happened between you two?"

At that, Emily almost gave in to a sudden bought of hysteria. What hadn't happened between them in the past several years?

"What do you mean?"

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck. "He was rambling, but he said he took something away from you when you made your first visit. Does that mean anything to you?"

The memory of that day rushed to the forefront of her mind, paling her skin and constricting her throat. That day...the shock of Nolan's attack, her surrender, that day was the birth of their poisonous affair.

Emily took a deep breath, steadying herself. "It's nothing, we just...we were..."

This time, her armor failed her. There was no way to force down the hitch in her throat or the tears that escaped her eyes. Jack took a step closer, taking one of her hands into his own. "Emily, were you sleeping with him?"

"Yes."

With her vengeance done, there was no more reason to lie to this man.

Jack stilled at the admission.

Emily continued, "The first day I saw him, he was already gone. He was...Nolan changed because of me, because he was protecting me. He always has. After the first time it happened, I took some time and began to see it as a way to keep him from giving up while he was inside. As long as he had something to look forward to, to hope for, as long as he knew he wasn't alone, then he would stay alive long enough for me to bring him home."

Jack stood, absorbing her words - this admission of their affair and the sickening reasons behind it. "He hurt you, didn't he?"

"Sometimes. But I let him. It wasn't...I never fought him, I never once said no."

Jack couldn't understand any of it - for years, Emily and Nolan had lived in their own world of deception, loyal to none but each other. The revelation of their affair, of sex traded for silence, was only another layer of their twisted union with one another.

"And now?"

Emily took a shaky breath. It was a relief, to voice the truth to another, a man who stood outside the decades of secrets that bound her to Nolan.

"I've put him through hell. Now that he's out I'm going to do whatever it takes to help him learn to live again."

It was three weeks after Nolan became a free man that he chose to free the ashes of his aunt. Emily had kept Carole on the mantle, a constant reminder to never cease or tire in the crusade to free Nolan, if only so that he could have the freedom to grieve for the family that he had lost. After all he had endured, he had earned that.

Emily watched Nolan from her place at the base of the stairs. Both dressed in their Sunday best, they looked ready for a funeral. Emily's plain black dress flared out a bit at the knee, while Nolan wore a dark suit paired with a flashy patterned tie, remnant from a more carefree time in his life.

Emily hadn't wanted this for him, to bring him home only to present him with his dead, but even this was better than being imprisoned.

"Nolan. It's time."

The man inhaled, a deep shaking breath. She was right.

He stood, taking the engraved urn from the mantle.

Within the container were the ashen remains of his aunt, the kind woman who had taken him in after being disowned by his father. He remembered the cinnamon cookies she had made for every birthday of his childhood, he remembered her needling that he cut his shaggy hair and her special way of cheering him up, a kiss to the forehead and the suggestion that he listen to music to clear his head.

All that was gone now, and had been for years.

Nolan had done all he could to protect his aunt, this woman who had been more a mother to him than any other. He'd taken her away, hidden her off the grid with a new name. True, they had been found out by Emily, and though she wasn't the cause of Carole's death, Emily was the reason that Carole had died without family by her side.

The man strode out of the house, feet of lead dragging him to the dock. Distantly, he was aware of Emily following just a few steps behind him.

Glancing to the crystal in his hands, Nolan wondered how it came to be, how Emily and his aunt had reconnected while he was caged. He'd not expected them to meet again after their first tense standoff of an introduction at the house where she'd been living her quiet little life.

He wondered if Carole had been the one to reach out to Emily after his arrest made the news, or, if it had been Emily to seek out the other woman. With Nolan removed, Emily might have felt the loss of her friend and wanted another of his blood to take his place.

Footsteps thumping heavily on the wooden slats of the pier, Nolan decided that it didn't much matter now, how they met up again and began to keep in touch. His aunt Carole was dead, just as his father was dead - taking all hope of reconciliation with him. His true mother was gone, as was Padma, Amanda, Takeda, Aiden, David and Declan.

Emily watched as Nolan stood at the end of the pier. He'd set the urn on the rail before him and braced his hands on either side of it. She stood at his side, silent. This was for him, for Nolan to perhaps achieve a piece of closure for himself.

A tiny piece, and far less than he deserved, but for the moment it was all that Emily could offer.

They stood for several minutes in an observant silence, but Emily started when Nolan broke the stillness with a sudden sweep of his arm and a scream of despair.

The urn was knocked from the railing, the cloud of ashes escaping briefly into the air before falling into the sea. Carole would be carried all over the world now. The urn splashed into the water below.

Nolan sank to his knees, his body shaking with the release of his sobs.

There, Nolan. There it is.

Emily moved to him, glad despite his tears that he was finally allowed to grieve, to feel the pain of his loss. If Nolan could feel, then there was still the hope of recovering the man. He was not lost to her.

She put her hand on his shoulder, guiding him back to lean against her, to press his face to her womb and sob out his loss. She speared her fingers through his hair, soothing him in the way he could never allow her to do when they met in that horrible little room of the prison.

There, Nolan had been caged in all ways - accepting comfort from her would have given way to a human weakness that he could not afford. There had been no gentleness between them there; no softness, no kisses other than those he'd forced upon her, each one a punishment meant only to further her humiliation and pain for having given herself to him.

Emily stroked her friend, her hand sinking into his hair to steady the man as he rocked under the force of his own sobbing.

Emily looked herself over in her bedroom mirror, giving free reign to her innate vanity as a woman. She had bathed and prepared herself, adding just a drop of musky perfume behind each ear and a touch of color to her lips.

There were a thousand reasons not to do this, to let the affair die with her last visit to him in prison. Their coupling that day had been just as rushed as always, but Emily had not been passive as she had so often been in the past: she had pushed back, taking all that Nolan had had to give, accepting his punishing kisses, daring to bite his neck near hard enough to draw blood. She'd been excited, the triumph of ruining the Graysons and winning his freedom had been secured, she'd almost been giddy, high on the thrill of her final victory.

And now Nolan was back in the Hamptons, a man free from the prison system, but truly enslaved by his own mind. He was trapped in a constant state of paranoia, not allowing him to live any semblance of a real life. He had not been sleeping, and he hardly ate. He was unable to connect, and though he knew he was free, his innocence proven to the world, he was always looking over his shoulder with the fear of finding guards there, intent to drag him back to a cold, colorless cell.

This wasn't what Emily had intended for the man, she'd promised him so much more.

She went to him, entering his bedroom just as he was settling down for the night.

"Nolan, could you undo this necklace for me? It's caught in my hair."

It was all staged, of course. It was her pathetic attempt, some last-ditch effort to shake the man out of the hold that his fear and guilt still had on him. She owed it to him, he had suffered through so much for her.

A flash of longing rose in her heart, twisting it painfully. She realized then, how damn much she missed Nolan. She'd been missing him for years, she wanted him back, and she would do anything to see the man smile.

But the gentle, carefree Nolan Ross she missed had been beaten down on his first day inside - he wasn't coming back. She would take what remained of him tonight, whatever it took.

Emily stepped closer to him and pulled her hair up, to show him the necklace clasp, and then waited for his approach. Nolan did as she asked, fumbling a bit at first with the gold chain, but he'd gotten it loose on his third try, and set it aside on his low dresser.

Nolan's hands returned to her shoulders, his fingers tensing once he felt his pulse quicken. The woman was so close he could smell her, feel the heat of her skin. They stood for a moment, simply breathing.

He needed her to leave. He needed her away from him - she was too close, and wearing too little and she was far too trusting of him. If she didn't leave, he was only going to hurt her again and that was over, he couldn't, couldn't-

"Emily..."

The woman leaned back into him, breathing his name, calling to him, "Nolan."

Abruptly, he pulled away. Hands shaking, a sick panic rising in his chest, twisting his stomach. He knew what she was doing, and it terrified him. "I...I can't do this. I'm sorry. I should go. I'll leave tonight, get a room somewhere..."

He had already made it to the doorway, but Emily pulled at his arm, "Nolan, no, come back!"

Here they were, finally facing each other and all the words left unsaid set to spill between them. The dam was breaking, Nolan could hear it crack.

"Why? I shouldn't be out, after everything I did...you should have left me there."

"You know I couldn't do that. Nolan, please. We have to talk about it."

Nolan paced before her, spearing angry fingers through his hair. "God...what can I say, Emily? I attacked you, and then you came back and let me do it again and again, for years."

"Didn't you ever wonder why?"

"Every day, yes."

Emily put her hands over his shoulders, needing to steady him, needing him to hear her. "I needed you to want to stay alive. I owed you everything."

Again, Nolan pulled away. "You don't owe me anything now. It's finished. You burned the Graysons to the ground."

"I don't want you to leave."

At that, he barked out a harsh laugh even as tears slipped down his gaunt cheeks. "Then what, I stay here with you, and we go on like none of it ever happened? I attacked you and you let me do it - it would have been nothing for you to stop me, but you never fought back, you just laid there and let me...you let me...and when you came back, I begged you to kill me but you didn't. You just kept coming back - why?"

"I wanted to bring you back home."

"After everything I did to you, why?"

"Because I needed you back. Because we aren't finished." She smoothed her hands over his chest, just under his collarbones. Her touch was gentle, her eyes pleading for something from him that Nolan couldn't understand.

"I don't know if I can-"

"You can, Nolan. We can, together, we just need to try. We need to remember..."

"Oh, God...I can't...after everything, why would you want that from me? Everything I did to you...God, the things I did..."

Emily put her arms around him, and distantly, Nolan recognized the hard truth that, save for a handful of brief hugs before his time away, he had never held Emily before. Certainly not when she would come to see him in prison. No, those encounters had all been rough, quick, demeaning. They'd fucked like animals in the conjugal room, with Emily on her knees, her face pressed into the thin mattress as he mounted her, or kneeling before him, his fingers curled in her hair as he guided her mouth over his cock.

There had been the rare kiss, a cruel, biting kiss meant to hurt her. There were times when he had pleased the woman, but her pleasure had been bought with what she could endure from him first. Nolan's stomach twisted at the memories of his hands drawing back to slap her ass, her thighs, again and again, flushing her skin scarlet, his fingers curling into her, making her cry, making her beg. He'd bitten her neck, her chest and breasts, taking a demented satisfaction in knowing the marks would last for days - sometimes they would still be there, faded but still visible to him on her next visit. He'd loved it, knowing that she would feel him all over again each time she saw herself in a mirror.

Had he known any of this before being arrested, he would have killed himself to prevent her the pain and humiliation of his touch. He never would have...

In the time before, he had wanted her. There was no point in denying the attraction, he had made no true effort to hide it from himself or from her. How could he, when she was always there, so beautiful in her revealing dresses and her red lips, so calm and in control as she gave him his orders. And he'd loved it, gloried in it. He'd played his part, her right hand man, her partner in crime. She could depend on him, he was always just a text away when needed. And she had always needed him. Rome hadn't been built in a day, and Emily couldn't take apart the Graysons on her own.

He never thought anything would come of his draw to her - not when Emily had other men she loved before him: Daniel, the man she had briefly strived to save from the clutches of his own family; Jack, the love of her childhood self, who had grown into a man more than worthy of her; and Aiden, a kindred soul to Emily, whose own family had been ripped apart by the Initiative scheme. It was Aiden who knew her, Aiden who came from her past and offered her a future, Aiden who had come from the shadows and usurped Nolan's place as Emily's everything - well, everything save lover.

But Emily's hand was stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. Gentle, so gentle. He had forgotten that, somehow, and he shivered. He wanted her, God knew he did, but he had never been gentle with her, and was terrified that he would be swallowed by the violence still coiled within, that he would snap, that he would throw her down on the floor and rape her all over again.

No! No, not again, I'm not that-

But no, he closed his eyes and forced himself to remember. There was no guard outside the door, no limit on their time together this night, no bars, no reason for him to hurt her ever again. For years, he'd both hated and loved her for coming to him, for offering herself, while only hating himself more every day for taking her.

Nolan closed his eyes once he felt her lips touch his, just a touch. Emily saw his expression loosen, but knew more was needed. She touched his lips with hers again. Again, lingering longer this time. Her hand rested over his shoulder, the fingers of the other threading though his hair. She pressed herself closer to him, her breasts pressed to his chest, their flat bellies met, and she felt him stir against her. She felt that part of him beneath the loose cotton of his lounge pants. That, which for the past two years had been the only to enter her body, both in pleasure and in pain. It was hers, all of Nolan was hers.

She pushed him back lightly, steering him toward the bed. Obediently, he sat, and allowed Emily to climb over him, her knees on the mattress on either side of his hips, her light weight resting over his thighs, straddling his lap. She knew what she was doing by taking this position. The assumption of her dominance was an illusion. It would be nothing for Nolan to throw her off of him in refusal, or roll her onto her back to take her. But he had guided her during their every visit, it was Emily's turn to guide him back to the light. She smoothed her hands over his chest, kissing him softly.

"It's all right, Nolan. We're alone here. We're safe."

Her words were reassuring, he allowed himself to kiss her back, moving his lips against hers. Lingering, even opening his mouth to sweep his tongue through her lips. They shivered at that; never had they shared a kiss that wasn't rushed or painful, more punishment than anything else.

On reflex, his hands tightened over her pajama top. Emily broke the kiss to breath against him, "Nolan, my shirt. It's all right if you want to."

His hands were shaking, but he was able to go down the line of her shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, his nose to her still-clothed chest, breathing her in. The mingling scents of her skin, her laundry detergent, her perfume combining to dizzy him. "Emily, we can't..."

"It's all right, Nolan." She turned to kiss his temple, reassuring him.

He lifted his head, his hands peeling away her shirt, opening it fully and letting it slip down her arms to fall on the floor. He felt it land over one of his bare feet. Emily was before him, naked to the waist. He had seen her breasts many times in the last two years, but not like this, in the safety of her home, offered for his comfort rather than in exchange for silence. "It's all right, we're okay." She whispered to him. She wanted this, wanted to give him this comfort. She wanted comfort for herself.

She rested her hands over his shoulders as he leaned forward to kiss a breast, his tounge touching the skin for just a moment, tasting her. He kissed again, licked again. He did the same to her other breast, trying to remember how to be gentle with a woman. His hand tightened on her waist before smoothing up her body and cupping a breast. His fingertips stroked her nipple, feeling the flesh tighten to his touch. Emily gave a soft moan, and Nolan immediately pulled away, "I'm sorry-"

"No, Nolan, I'm fine. We're fine. Don't stop." She urged him. She couldn't let him stop, they had to go on.

Carefully, he resumed touching her with fingertips, lips and tongue, softer this time, which Emily enjoyed. Her breathing deepened, and she reached between their bodies to cup him through the material of his pants, and found him growing harder for her. Nolan groaned. "Emily, I-"

"No, don't. Do you want this?" She asked, her clever hand fondling him.

Nolan bit back a harsh groan as her grip tightened. His own hands tightened on her hips in immediate response. "God, yes. I do, I do, but I can't hurt you again."

Emily shifted her weight atop him. "You won't, Nolan. Think. I never made you stop."

"You let me hurt you." He said, memories choking his voice as their past rose in his mind; the misery of his heart warred with the pleasure of his body, thrilling at the return of her touch.

"You can have me, Nolan. Please."

Please, Nolan.

Nerves frayed and resistance broken, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in again, and he allowed her to move away, to stand only to remove her satin shorts. A moment later she was straddling him, fully naked. This was new - in their visits, Emily had been clothed, only hiking her skirt or dress to offer herself, fully undressing would have taken too much time. Likewise, Emily had only seen Nolan's chest a few times, but never the full man, only what was revealed to her from the folds of his prison uniform.

He held her to him, one hand slowly moving between her spread legs, unable to stop a low groan when his fingertips found her. She had waxed herself bare for him, and the meaning was clear: there would be nothing to hinder him, not even her light curls. She offered herself to him for whatever and whenever he needed her. They needed each other, now. Her body was not to be used again as an outlet for his pain and anger, but rather, their bodies would be the vessels toward their healing.

She held him closer as his fingers stroked, hesitantly dipping within. "Mm, Nolan."

"Are you all right?"

Emily speared her fingers into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. "Yes, Nolan. Don't stop, we're free here."

The reminder of their freedom was enough for Nolan in that moment, and he shifted their positions, rolling Emily onto her back, beneath him. His hands stroked her, over her arms, collarbones and breasts, down her waist and over the gentle slope of her hips, to her thigh. Nolan moved down her body, lifting her left thigh, hooking it over his shoulder as he readied to-

Emily lifted her head to look down at him. "Nolan, are you-?"

He stopped a bare moment before his lips would have met her most intimate flesh. "I...I'll stop if you don't want it. I just thought..."

Emily shook her head, surprised at this turn. She'd meant to give over to him, but it seemed that Nolan was more intent on giving to her. "No, it's all right. You can. I just didn't think you'd want to."

His wide hand spread over her, a hot imprint over her womb. Emily covered his hand with her own.

"I do." Nolan confessed. "I always wanted...I should have tried to make it good for you when-"

"Don't think about that." Emily cut him off. This was them, together. She didnt want the intrusion of his caged memories or her drive for vengeance. It was just them, and everything else - "That's all over."

She could feel the change in the man, then. A subtle shift in the darkness of the room. He said nothing, but dipped his head to devour her. It was slow at first, exploring sweeps with his tongue before he grew bolder, more confident as she writhed beneath him. He licked, he sucked, he pleasured her with his fingers, finally losing himself in the moment rather than in the horror of memory.

"Oh, God! Nolan, I-"

"You like it?" He asked, mouth working against her, hands holding her hips down to keep her in place.

Emily curled her fingers into his hair, pulling him away. "Please, stop."

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No, Nolan, I just - I'm so close, but I don't want it to happen this way." She gasped out, struggling against the rising tide of pleasure he'd stirred within.

Dumbly, he took in her meaning. "Oh."

"Come here."

"If you're sure-"

"I am, and so are you." Emily said, almost daring him to turn away from her now. She might kill him if he did.

"Yes."

Emily closed her eyes, relishing the feel of Nolan moving to cover her, and then, the slow invasion of his body into her own, his flesh parting hers. Nolan groaned into her neck as he sheathed himself. She surrounded him, the heat of her, the scent. Arms and legs rose to curl over him, drawing him close.

"Oh, Ems...thank you, thank you." Nolan muttered tearfully into the flesh of her throat. He was still, taking a moment to regain the control he needed to keep himself from ending this right now. It was so wonderful, to feel her surrounding him again, the whole of him - body, mind, heart - rejoicing to be reunited with Emily, when he'd so long assumed she would want nothing to do with him after winning his freedom.

Slowly, Nolan began to move over her, slow, so slowly. Emily tightened within, squeezing him. Nolan groaned again, fighting against the urge to move against her harder and faster, the way he had always done so before, when he'd been overtaken by that sick combination of lust and fury and their time together kept so brief. Instead, Emily began to move beneath him, raising her hips to meet his, tightening herself in time with his thrusts. "Keep going, Nolan, don't stop." She whispered, encouraging him.

He moved, driving into her, relishing her moans, the harsh little gasp she gave when he tilted his hips.

They gasped in the dark, Nolan collapsing atop her, breathing hard into the crook of her neck. Emily stroked his back, uncaring of the sweat coating him, she was only relieved to know that Nolan was not beyond help, he was not so far gone that he couldn't be brought in from the storm. He could be rebuilt and tamed; he would never again be the sweet Nolan Ross that she had once known, just as she was forever changed from the Amanda Clarke who had pined for a lost childhood on the beach with her father.

They were so different now; darker, stronger, and they knew so much more of suffering.

As Nolan rotted away behind bars, Emily bore down - facing off against the Graysons without fear, without mercy, and it was with a new rage that she struck against the family of snakes and no one, not the tycoon, not the society queen, not her fiancé, not even her father's secret bastard had been spared.

When it was over, when the monsters were in chains and their every secret exposed, Emily had sat on her porch and watched as Grayson manor burned. It still stood down the beach, a burnt black skeleton of a house. His first day revisiting the beach, Nolan had looked at it, and then looked at her, with the faintest ghost of a smirk twisting his lips, but he'd said not a word.

Bad girl.

Yes, she was bad when she had to be. When it was necessary. When she had to take an extreme measure to right an extreme wrong. It had to be done, she'd thought as she'd sat on the porch that night, watching the fire belch smoke into the air, the flaming geyser casting shadows over her cottage.

Nolan had been free the next day.

Emily touched his hair, "Nolan." He moved, making the monumental effort to lift his head high enough to look at her. "Are you all right?"

The man nodded, but said nothing. He pulled away from her and shifted onto his side.

Emily wet her lips. "Go to sleep Nolan, I'll see you in the morning."

The woman had nearly reached the door but stilled when she heard his singular, simple command. "Stay."

Emily turned away from the door, returning to his side in the warmth of the bed. On sweet impulse, she dipped her head and kissed his temple. "Always."