She reaches an even worse area of the city, stepping around large cracks in the cement and keeping her head down against the rowdy noises coming from all around. I keep pace atop the roofs, ready to act the moment she needs help.
She enters a grungy building with more spray paint than original brick, shucks her purse a bit closer to her body, and enters. After checking the area, I jump down between the buildings and trail behind her, always keeping one floor below on the staircase and relying on my speed if necessary.
At the very top, she knocks on the first door that’s barely held up on the hinges. It’s yanked open to an older, uglier version of Sawyer. Their hair may have once been the same, but whereas Sawyer’s is glossy, her mother’s is limp and in bad need of a cut. Dirty teeth sneer down at her daughter as she yanks her inside, yellowed fingers staining my mate’s arm.
Letting her walk into the infested apartment with people who’ve only ever harmed her is the exact thing I vowed to protect her from, but this should serve my needs. So, I remain outside the thin door, my nose assaulted with the wretched combinedscents from their apartment and those nearby: sweat, mildew, alcohol, smoke of every kind, sex, and even blood. For now, I listen.
“Sawyer, it’s the holidays, be nice. You know what I did to give you a life? Youoweme.”
Sawyer sighs. “Mom, I told you months ago, I’m done. I can’t help you anymore. I can’t afford it. I’ve come to give you what I have in my purse and after that, you’re on your own.”
That’s my girl.Though handing over the tips is still too generous.
The third person speaks. The one who’ll die first. The one whose blood already fills my mouth. “If it’s more money you’re needing, I know a few friends who’d love to pay for your ass. Or maybe, skip the middleman. I’m sure our dealer could do with a sweet thing like you in his bed in exchange for a few grams.”
“Corey, shut up,” Sawyer grinds out. Whatever his response is gets cut off with her mom’s whimper.
“You don’t love me.”
“Not really, no. It’s not like you love me. You really need rehab, Mom. You need help, to get out of this, to get away fromhim.I’ll help you with that.”
“Oh, so you’d pay for people who think they know better than me, but not to help me continue on as I am? You’re saying you don’t trust me to know what’s best for myself? I see how it is.”
Another sigh.Sawyer, just leave.
“Getting you help and handing you money to buy drugs is not the same!”
“How dare you assume?—”
“Oh, knock it the fuck off, Mom. You and I know very well that’s what you do with my money. It’s what you’ve always done, from the day I was born. I wish I neverwasborn. I wish you gave me up to people who actually cared. I wish?—”
Slap.Skin meets skin, blistering my mate’s cheek; even without seeing it, I know. My fangs shed, ready to tear apart those who fuckingtouched her.
As the thin door splinters around me with a shrill shriek, I don’t bother taking in the scene, heading immediately for the asshole sprawled in the recliner, cigarette in one hand, beer bottle in the other—and my hand through his chest before he blinks.
He chokes, eyes wide at the sight of me—or his death—as I yank out his heart and drop it to the floor. Dead, his body slumps in the chair, the noise covered by her mother’s incessant scream as she yanks Sawyer in front of her for protection.
Even when faced with death, she uses Sawyer.
Sawyer, who doesn’t seem surprised to see me. Whose slight curve to her lips and relief sprinkled in her eyes pauses my own need for revenge as I take her in. It’s not the best place for a reunion, but for me, it’s less of a reunion anyway. After all, I’ve been not only following her but sneaking into her apartment when she’s asleep.
Her mother continues screaming, cursing, and then shoves Sawyer my way as she lunges for the door. I cut her off, slamming a hand to the thin wood as I glare at the woman who’s done my mate wrong for years, my fangs unhidden. A thing of nightmares for the person deserving nothing less. Hell itself will be too good for her.
“Wait!” Sawyer runs across the room and intercepts my revenge, a hand to the place my heart used to beat. “Don’t kill her.”
“Thank you, Sawyer. See, I knew you loved me!” Her mother paws at her shoulders and hair but Sawyer steps away with a sneer.
“Why shouldn’t I? All she’s ever done is hurt you.”
“I know, but she’s my mom.” Blood from that bleeding heart of hers seeps into her expression as she cups my face, the softness of her hand a direct contrast to the grime of our settings. “I don’t think I could spend immortality knowing I was directly at fault for her death.”
“You wouldn’t be. I will.”
She shakes her head. “You know what I mean. Please, for me. We’ll leave her alive, and she’ll call the police raving about a vampire murdering him. They’ll think she’s on something. She’ll be locked away in a psych ward and kept from all her addictions, hopefully getting the help she needs. Or maybe even tried for murder and still kept away from it all.”
My bloodthirsty mate.Fuck, I couldn’t be more obsessed with her than this instance.
“Living will be her punishment,” she adds softly. “She doesn’t want the help, so it’ll be torture. And I’ll be able to go on without the guilt of her death. A fitting end, I think.”
