You Saved Me

You Saved Me Rosyln Faulk Skye High Publishing Copyright © 2023 by Rosyln Faulk All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover Design: SSB Covers and Design Interior Design: SSB Covers and Design Editor: Swish Design and Editing Publisher: Skye High Publishing Photo Credit: © creativecommonsstockphotos | Stock Free Images To all my family and friends I annoyed, asking them to read my book, and to those I asked countless questions. Thank you. I wouldn’t have completed this book if it weren’t for you. You know who you are. To my daughter, who kept me going on late nights when I wanted to give up. This one is for you, my love. Contents Content Warning 1. Tristan 2. Lucas 3. Tristan 4. Tristan 5. Lucas 6. Tristan 7. Lucas 8. Tristan 9. Lucas 10. Tristan 11. Lucas 12. Tristan 13. Lucas 14. Lucas 15. Lucas 16. Tristan 17. Lucas 18. Tristan 19. Lucas 20. Tristan 21. Lucas 22. Tristan Epilogue About the Author Content Warning Trigger warning: Discussions of torture, violence, and murder. If that upsets you, please do not continue reading or come back when topics are not as sensitive to you. Chapter 1 Tristan If I had known what my day was going to be like, I would have stayed in bed, cocooned in my blanket. At least I would have been happy. My alarm went off at six thirty this morning, and I was tempted to not get up. I had plenty of paid time off accumulated, but I also had a deadline for the publishing house I was working for as an editor at Brickmans Publishing. Not my dream job, but it got my foot in the door and allowed me to network. One day, I would be a bestselling author and have a team of editors working with me to help me achieve that dream, just as I do for other authors. But for now, I had to earn money to live and write on the side. Ugh. I was tempted to stay in bed. So tempted. But like the good little employee I was, I got up after snoozing my alarm at least three times. Although I slept well the night before, I had a feeling in my gut—like today was not going to be a good day. When I tossed my legs over the side of the bed, I looked back at my boyfriend, Devin. How he slept through my alarm going off four separate times, I didn’t know, but he didn’t move an inch. I looked at him for a minute more, soaking in his features, thinking how lucky I was to have him. How lucky I was that he wanted me. Thinking about how much he wanted me had me half hard, remembering last night—mostly about how he looked with my dick in his mouth. We had been together for two years and had been living together for a little over six months. He was tall, six-four, with sepia skin, wide shoulders, wash-board abs, and a V cut I loved to run my tongue over. His strong jaw and luminous eyes that saw right through me were my favorite things about him. So much so I almost wanted to wake him up just so I could gaze into his eyes, which would give me a boost since my stomach was in knots for some unknown reason. Devin and I looked good together. I was shorter than him, five-ten, and not as muscular. I had more of a runner’s build. Devin was a bodybuilder, muscles bulging everywhere. He dwarfed me, but his size and bulk made me feel safe and protected. I had more of a chestnut-brown complexion with large doe eyes and full, pouty lips he loved to kiss and bite while we rolled around in the sheets. Thinking about what we’d gotten up to last night made me want to reach out for him again. But I resisted. If I didn’t get a move on, I would surely be late for work. I padded into the en suite, hoping a quick shower would relax me. There was nothing for me to be feeling uneasy about. I had a good-paying job, a good man, a great apartment—everything I wanted. Well, not everything. I didn’t have my novel completed, but that’s a me problem, not a universe problem. Writer’s block fucking sucked, big time. I would get back into it eventually, but with the way work was going and how Devin was keeping me up at night, I didn’t have the time. I would make the time, though. I loved writing, immersing myself in the characters and the plot, the twists and turns, the growth, and, most of all, the love. As a hopeless romantic, I wrote romance novels exclusively. Since Devin and I were ‘busy’ last night, I didn’t have any clothes to take off, so I relieved myself before I stepped directly into the shower. I was one of those people who liked to get in the shower before turning the water on. I know it’s weird, but early in the morning, the blast of cold woke me up like no cup of coffee could. After the initial ball-shriveling cold wore off and the temperature heated up to the almost hell I adjusted it to, I felt more awake than when I was sitting on the bed, but my stomach still wouldn’t calm. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was or why I felt so unsettled, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. No need to add extra stress where none was needed. I grabbed my loofah and soaped myself up, mentally going through what I needed to do for the day. I had three novels I was editing at work,