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Wars need to happen to Death, and now, he needs to fucking bleed.
He smirks up at me as I crush my fist into his face, but he doesn’t try to fight me off, not that he can when I’m on such an adrenaline high.
A voice calls from my right, startled and soft. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I recognise it’s her, but I don’t focus on it. I don’t stop to see her or hear the same voice she used to giggle at him.
My next punch is stronger than the previous one, and Ronan’s head to lolls to the side.
“Someone is losing it.” Ronan licks the corner of his bloodied mouth. “Got a problem, mon ami?”
I punch him again, causing his words to stop where they started.
Doesn’t matter that I spent most of the night and morning fighting with thugs or that a few bruises in my body hurt like a fucker. I’m going to finish this day with an epic finale – like this bastard’s death.
“Stop it!” A slender hand wraps around my bicep, forcing me back with a shove.
It’s not that strong, but her touch is.
The feel of her fingers on my skin, separated only by my shirt, is like water dousing my fire.
The blurry lines from earlier and the black haze slowly dissipate when her face comes into view.
She’s staring at me with those huge green eyes that have never left my head, not since yesterday, not since a century ago.
Her lips part in stupefaction – or worry, I don’t know which. All I can think about is how I feasted on those lips, how they felt beneath my teeth and against my tongue.
How I tasted her, like I secretly fantasised for years, and how that single taste has opened Pandora’s fucking box, unleashed the devil’s minions, and even the jinn that Ahmed used to tell me stories about.
Because now, I’m hit by the need to taste her again, and this time, I don’t want to stop – or finish.
I want to free fall to hell.
Fuck me.
I went to fight so I could purge these thoughts, but they just keep magnifying. Her view isn’t helping either. It’s like a storm, and I’m only destined to fall, to sin, to bloody perish.
“What the hell are you doing?” she shrieks, staring at the blood oozing from Ronan’s lips. “Are you crazy?”
Yup. Totally am. Otherwise, none of this would’ve happened.
A mistake.
It was all because of alcohol.
I can tell myself that all day, but making my brain believe it is a different story altogether.
That thing is starting to hate me for the amount of rubbish I pour in it on a daily basis.
Mutual, mate.
Kimberly pushes me away with ease – actually, no. All she has to do is use her hold on my arm and I’m out of the way as if I was never there.
Just a touch, I tell myself. One single touch.
I rise to my feet, guided by her hands around my biceps. Her hands are on me.
Hands. On. Me.
Fuck, why does that feel so good? And surreal.
