SEVEN
She’s.So. Fucking. Cute.When she gets that little pouty look, I just want to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze until she goespop.
It’s a horribly morbid, intrusive thought—one that will never lead to action. Still, the desire is there. And, honestly, fuck whichever God made her so irresistible. It’s notfair.Not fucking right. In fact, it’s downright immoral, the way I want her.
To be a drop of sweat sliding over her skin, or an eyelash falling to her cheek, just to be whisked away.But the bliss of being touched by those hands…
The memory of her fingers wrapped around my wrist floods my mind. The way she used me, the way her face twisted up when she came on the palm of my hand. It makes me wish I were curled up next to her in bed, rather than staring at her between the slits in her closet door.
I arrived back in Moriton this morning. It was a day later than I originally planned due to the difficulty of the operation, but the trip was ultimately successful. Mr. Graves is six feet under, and I’m the only one who knows it.
Archer Graves had no family to speak of and no long-term girlfriend to worry about where he’s gone—which made it all the easier to take over his life.
While waiting at the airport to fly back to Moriton, I emailed the CEO of LoveBytten from Archer’s personal phone and explained that my travel plans had changed and that I would be arriving in Moriton a week earlier than planned. Luckily, Ms. Novak bought the story easily enough and was thrilled to hear I’d be arriving early—though she was a bit put-out that she had to cancel Archer’s welcome party.
With all the pieces falling into place, there was only one more thing I needed to do: Visit Grace. The only problem is that she had to work all day, and I had just received a cleanup job from the Sanctum.
While I should have been dealing with the Sanctum, I chose to blow my work off so I could lurk in Grace’s apartment—a decision I knew I might come to regret but couldn’t undo.
It’s not like I lazed around all day, though. I took my time setting up cameras around her apartment, checking from every possible angle to make sure Grace wouldn’t discover them. After that, I noticed her bathroom drain was clogged, so I grabbed the unused snake from the back of her bathroom cabinet and took care of it. When I was all done, I looked up and discovered several of the lights were out—and fuck it, I was already in deep—so I left, made a stop at the hardware store, and replaced every bulb in her apartment.
I’d like to say I stopped there, but that would be a lie.
With all the new light, the dust covering the surfaces of Grace’s apartment became more apparent. I had a couple of hours to waste still, so I took it upon myself to vacuum, mop, and dust. I didn’t get to her piles of laundry—but that’s only because her red-haired friend, Saffron, made an unexpected appearance.
I wasn’t aware she had a key, so when I heard someone tampering with the front door, I nearly pulled out my weapon and shot. Just before I pulled the trigger, my better senses returned to me, and I chose to hide under the bed so I could surveil them instead of outright killing the intruder.
And thank fuck I did. Grace would never forgive me if I killed her best friend.
I had to wait under that bed for over an hour, listening to Saffron’s 2000sgreatest pop hitsplaylist on loop until Grace got home. I got a glance of her changing, but then Saffron whisked her out the door to some bar with a funny name, and I was left alone again.
Of course, I had to follow them. For safety. And also so I could check out Grace’s ass in her little denim shorts. Luckily, their night out was uneventful, and soon, Grace and Saffron were heading back to her apartment. I took the liberty to beat them back to her place, and I’ve been waiting in the closet ever since.
Now, I’m just waiting for the sedative in Grace’s tea to kick in.
With little else to do, I take the time to inspect my new ID card. I pull it out of my wallet and up to the light, rubbing my thumb across the raised lettering beneath my picture.
Archer Graves. Mr. Graves.
I never had a last name. Not one I can remember, anyway. I was the seventh boy purchased by the Sanctum on that particular day, and the Mask who collected me was tired of coming up with names, so he called me Seven. No last name, no middle. Just Seven.
My records were destroyed in the fire that took down the original Sanctum HQ, so I have no way of knowing who my birth parents were. I was so young when I was taken, there’s no way for me to remember any fact about where I came from,whoIwas born to. So I stopped thinking about it. My anonymity is a gift in a way. I can be anyone I want, whenever I want. And now, I am Mr. Archer Graves, COO of LoveBytten.
I kind of like the name—even if it doesn'ttechnicallybelong to me. It just feels right somehow.
My thoughts are broken as Grace lets out a loud snore. Chest tightening with excitement, I creep out of the closet and come to a stop at the side of her bed, my eyes wide and unblinking as I watch her sleep. She’s having a dream, and her face is all twisted up, drool crusted at the corner of her mouth.
So. Fucking. Cute.
Before I can reach for her, my phone buzzes with a text, diverting my attention from my beautiful girl and souring my mood. With a snarl, I pull the device from my pocket, anger simmering in my veins as I read the message displayed on the screen.
Viktor
We need to talk.
Fuck my life.If I don’t respond, he’ll just show up at my apartment. If he can’t find me there, he’ll tear the city apart to find me. I know Viktor well, and he’s not a man to be toldno.
Me
