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I have no idea what you call the kind of relationship I have with Cullen and Archer -other than fucked up and fucking sexy.
They truly hate each other.
They do not want to share me.
But they have no choice.
I’m a little too far away from Archer so he grabs my hoodie pocket and pulls me against him again.
His right hand disappears for only a second.
He shows me the knife and I swallow hard.
“Do you know more than before, sweet thing?” Archer asks.
“If I say I do, what happens then?” I ask. “Are you going to plunge that knife into my chest?”
“You don’t know anything else,” he says.
“How do you know?”
Archer puts his forehead to mine. “If you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be near me. You’d be running. Hiding. You’d be looking for protection.”
“I have protection, Archer.”
“You think Doyle can save you?” Archer asks. He smirks. “He’s all show.”
“And what are you?”
“Violence,” Archer says. “I’ve already killed for you.”
“You killed for Birdie.”
“You ordered me to kill,” he says.
I swallow hard.
Archer takes his hand out of my hoodie pocket and slides it under my hoodie.
Touching my bare skin.
Sliding his hand up to my right breast.
His hand is large. And strong.
He’s not gentle and caring.
That’s not his style.
When his hand moves over my breast, he squeezes.
Commanding. Hard.
Then harder…
He brings the knife up to my chin.
The dull side of the blade touches my left cheek.
