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That was an understatement, anyway. Brat was a bombshell. It knocked me off kilter to even think that. I had almost eleven years on her, but my moral compass hadn’t spontaneously decided to start working again because of that.
This thought process was more along the lines that I’d been with women all over the spectrum—beautifully dark to pale, freckled redheads, and none of them looked like her. They weren’t even a fraction as enticing; they’d still be alive if that were the case.
I could only imagine how much better she’d look at this age. I could see it clear enough that my dick hardened as we tore up the blacktop, and I was in no position to fix it.
That was a good enough reason to concentrate on other matters, like getting inside her head on our trip home.
Not sounding like a pubescent little boy was a good start. That bullshit that just came out of my mouth was cringe-worthy.
Not only was it a corny ass line, but it didn’t exactly translate what I’d been thinking clearly. Speaking to women wasn’t in my repertoire of skills. I was usually telling them to shut the fuck up for screaming in my ear. That was in both instances: fucking and killing.
Cobra was the best at things like that; even Romero was smoother than I was, and he wasn’t Casanova by anyone’s standards—not even my sister’s.
I could tell by the look on Brat’s face that she didn’t know if I’d been bullshitting or serious. That blank mask she always tried to slip on might as well have been invisible. She had always been easy for me to read, like a picture book—I didn’t need to an utter a word, and neither did she.
I just got her.
I don’t think she was aware of that until now. She hadn’t been aware of a lot of things.
That was the problem with people from The Kingdom: they didn’t live in reality.
They lived in a fantastical dreamland, and when reality showed up, they were fucked.
I wasn’t blaming Brat for her lack of life experience, because neither of us could help where we came from. And though I was no better than the fuckers that had just had her—in fact, I knew I was worse in a few key categories—I refused to condone what I was fully aware had been done.
I wasn’t going to coddle her, though, and I wasn’t going to ask if she was okay. That was a dumbass rhetorical question. There were some things you just didn’t need to confirm. Her eyes were open windows that gave it all away.
I understood the language they continued to speak, even if she didn’t.
The fire that had once lit up her entire being like a beacon now burned within a darkness inside her that could rival my own.
She needed to be educated.
She needed to learn that there was nothing in the dark to be afraid of. I wasn’t going to save her from it.
I wasn’t a hero. I never would be—not for her.
We were all born to live in this hell. I would teach her how to transcend and thrive in it. I would drain her, break her down if I had to, just so I could be the one to make her whole again. In my mind, it had to be me.
I’d felt the need to shadow her from the beginning, and this situation only strengthened that resolve. I’d lost enough in this world. I wouldn’t let it take her, too.
I would show her that hell could be beautiful. This is where she belonged—right beside me. Even knowing what my lifestyle meant for her…it was too late for that now.
Ask me where the fuck all this was coming from and I wouldn’t have an exact answer.
I’d never had anything to be selfish about until her.
No one had ever looked at me like Brat did, seeing more than a man who harvested souls for a living…like I was something worth giving a fuck about.
Cali and my brothers tried to show me that very thing, but it wasn’t the same. I knew Romero would know how to explain it better than I could. Logic, reason, rationality…none of it mattered. I just had this uncontrollable urge to protect her. I’d failed before—completely.
Had I been paying attention to her like I’d always done up until that night, she would have never made it out of the house. Had whatever this was between us been out in the open, no one would have dared remove her from that house. People were too afraid of me to ever fuck with someone who belonged to me.
I’d taken my eyes off her for what seemed like only a minute, and then she was gone.
That wouldn’t happen again.
I would make her unequivocally mine. May some divine power have mercy on anyone who ever had the balls big enough to try and get between us again. I sure as fuck wouldn’t.
