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Glancing down, I laughed at the sight of his bloody dick. We’d done this same routine so many times it was nice to have it shaken up a little bit.
“Bleed him out and then find Arlen.”
I left them to it and walked off in the direction Cali had gone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
If I was his, did that mean he was mine?
Why was I even asking myself that when I couldn’t get a firm grasp on my emotions?
I’d just brutalized someone’s genitals and all I could think about was sex. Something was wrong with me—outside of me already knowing I was a tad fucked up.
My sigh skirted over the church’s vaulted ceiling. Clutching the black ledger in my hands, I bypassed the wooden confessional booths, noting that Azel wasn’t crying so loudly anymore. Maybe Cobra was done—and good for him.
I could see myself befriending him, and maybe even Grimm one day, if it wasn’t for the fact that Tito was still out and about somewhere and I just couldn’t bring myself to snub him.
“What the hell am I even doing this for?” I mumbled to myself, turning the corner and running right into Romero.
“What are you doing what for?” He grabbed my upper arm and turned me around, all but dragging me into one of the dark, dusty confessional booths.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Is that the book?”
He reached for it and I twisted away. “Why do you want David so badly?”
“Cali, if I don’t tell you something, it’s because I don’t think you should know.”
What could I say to that?
I couldn’t demand he give me one hundred percent transparency when I wouldn’t do the same, and if we couldn’t trust one another, then where did that leave us?
He reached for the book again, this time snatching it out of my hands.
“Was that your pathetic attempt at blackmailing information out of me?”
“I’m smarter than that.”
“Are you?”
“You’re such an asshole,” I breathed, squeezing past him to push the thin wooden door open.
“Uhn-uh.” He pulled me away from the door and caged me between him and the wooden bench.
“What do you want?” I growled. The box was stuffy and I could barely see his eyes from the lack of light.
“What if I told you to confess your deepest, darkest sin?”
“You are my deepest darkest sin.”
“Maybe I should fuck you in here, then. I’ve never been given the honor of defiling a nun.”
“I’m not a real nun.”
“Don’t ruin the fantasy, baby. Just spread your legs for me.”
He knelt to set the ledger down on the floor, lifting my habit when he stood back up.
