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“Stay,” I whisper. “Please.”
There are a million reasons why he might say no. I’m being needy right now, and I know it, my defenses and layers of armor broken down by everything I’ve been through this weekend.
But Theo doesn’t say anything at all. He just kicks off his shoes and crawls beneath the covers beside me, looping an arm around my waist and pulling me into the warm cradle of his body.
My head tucks under his chin, and the last thing I’m aware of before sleep claims me is the soft, steady drum of his heartbeat.
Chapter 5
Pain sears through my body, radiating from the three points where the bullets pierced my flesh. Blood pools around me, warm and wet, and my vision goes in and out of focus as I stare at the three figures above me.
Marcus, Theo, and Ryland.
Marcus’s face hovers over mine, concern hardening his handsome features as Theo and Ryland flank him on either side. His sentinels. His partners. His brothers.
Earth and air churn violently as those beautiful, mesmerizing eyes gaze down at me. He’s speaking, but I can’t hear the words. I can’t make out what he’s saying.
I open my mouth, trying to speak back, but all that pours from my lips is a trickle of blood.
I have to talk.
I have to tell him.
I have to warn him.
He cups my face with one large hand, calloused fingers threading through my hair, and then he lowers his face to mine and kisses me.
It’s everything.
Pleasure.
Pain.
Hope.
Redemption.
Destruction.
It’s a promise made and broken at the same time, and I kiss him harder, ignoring the coppery taste of blood that lingers between our lips. My right arm lies useless on the cold pavement, nerves and tissue already fraying, but I palm the back of his head as our kiss deepens.
Pop, pop, pop!
Three sharp sounds pierce the night air, and Marcus’s body jerks three times. His body goes limp, his weight growing so heavy that it feels like it might crush me to dust.
But I keep trying to kiss him, lips and tongue moving against a mouth that’s gone lax.
Unresponsive.
Dead.
“No,” I mutter against his lips, my voice raw. They’re still warm. They’re still full and soft. But he won’t kiss me back. “No, no, no. Please.”
His head slumps to one side of mine, our cheeks pressed together, and I wait for the feel of his breath to tickle my ear and stir my hair. But it never does.
Blood pours from his
wounds, mingling with mine on the pavement beneath us. My fingers clutch at his hair, holding tightly to the rich brown strands as my own heartbeat slows.
