Page 219 of What We Become

Nobody pushes him on it—we all see the way his eyes glaze, the cognitive wall he’s building brick by brick to keep Gloria’s world from bleeding into his. It’s how he survives, how he functions, and right now, with blood still drying on my hands, I get it more than ever.

“Okay, team,” I say, wiping my hands on the back of my dress. “That’s Stephen out of our lives. What happens now?”

Eli turns to me, his mask pushed onto his head, autumn eyes glinting, untamed and heated. “If I remember that night correctly, there’s one more thing we need to do.”

My pulse kicks up, an echo of memory stirring. “What’s that?”

Micah retrieves the knife from the sand and returns it to Knox. It disappears into his boot before the skull masks cover their faces again.

Eli’s mouth curls into a wicked grin before he pulls his own mask down.

“Run.”

The word hits me like a starting pistol, and I’m off, bolting down the beach—sand flying under my feet, blood-soaked pink dress whipping around my legs. The jetty falls away behind me. The ocean crashes to my left, and my ribs ache with every breath, but I keep running.

Two sets of footsteps hammer the sand behind me.

I glance back. Eli is closing fast, Micah just behind him, their skull masks gleaming under the moon. A laugh tears from my throat, breathless and unhinged. I turn forward and push harder, heart pounding with the knowledge that they’re going to catch me.

That I want them to.

Then Eli’s arms wrap around my waist, and he tackles me into the cool sand. We roll, the breath knocked out of me, and suddenly he’s above me again. One hand braces beside my head while the other pushes his mask up.

I’m already reaching for him when his mouth crashes against mine.

Micah reaches us next, dropping to his knees beside us, his breathing worse than mine. Eli is still kissing me when Milo and Holden catch up, limping across the sand. Knox follows with his splinted leg held stiff, his eyes fixed on me.

They’re all here.

And I’m exactly where I wanted to end up.

Once they crowd close, the masks turn everything into a fevered blur, bodies pressing in close, hands everywhere, stripping away the ruined dress with rough urgency. Someone’s mouth claims my breast, teeth grazing my nipple while another pair of hands spreads my thighs, fingers delving into my slick heat, teasing and thrusting until I’m arching off the sand, gasping. The waves provide a rhythmic roar that drowns out my moans as they surround me, all heat and muscle and shadowed intent.

Knox’s massive frame is unmistakable even masked—he sits back on one hand, his splinted leg stretched clear, unzipping and guiding his thick cock to my lips.

“Open, Fury.”

I take him in deep, tongue swirling, tasting salt and skin as he groans low. His hand steadies my jaw, careful of the bruise, and I find a pace my battered mouth can manage.

A hand slides between my thighs while my mouth is full of Knox, two thick fingers finding the place that’s already swollen and aching and slick.

I cry out around him, the sound ripped apart by the heat of him on my tongue. Sand sticks to my blood-wet skin. The mask above my stomach turns everything into shadow and breath and hard lines, and I can’t tell whose mouth is dragging over my breast now, whose palm is pinning my hip, whose low curse gets swallowed by the surf.

All I know is what they’re doing to me.

What they’re taking.

What they’re giving back.

Knox’s hand fists in my hair, holding me where he wants me. “That’s it, Fury,” he grinds out, voice dark and wrecked above me. “Take it.”

I do.

I take him until tears sting my eyes and my throat burns, until my jaw aches and my whole body shakes with the pressure building under my skin. The hand at my cunt works me ruthlessly, fingers pumping in and out while a thumb circles my clit, steady and merciless. Another mouth closes over my nipple and sucks hard enough to make my back bow off the sand.

I gag on Knox and moan anyway.

The mask above my chest lifts. A familiar laugh—muffled, breathless, unsteady—ghosts over my skin. Milo. I don’t know for sure, and the not knowing only makes it hotter. Another body crowds in on my left, broad palm sliding under my neck to lift me a little while Knox fucks my mouth deeper.