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Grey bounded up the stairs at the end of the hall, pausing when he saw me outside of her door.
I pointed toward the locked door, lifting a brow to ask the question without speaking.
He sighed, coming to snatch me from the hallway and drag me down the stairs with him.
I glanced back, my throat suddenly dry, before the door was out of view and we emerged into the kitchen.
“Let her sleep,” Grey said. “I checked on her half an hour ago, and she didn’t even stir. She’s exhausted.”
“We’re leaving her here?”
“The door’s locked,” Corvus said, entering through the other side of the kitchen and prying the fridge door open to grab a Gatorade. “Grey’ll come back and get her at lunch.”
I laughed, shaking my head at him as I ran my thumb over my lower lip, smudging out a smirk.
“And if she wakes before then?” I asked.
Corvus whirled, pulling the bottle from his lips to swipe the back of his hand over the shine there. “Then she’ll know her place.”
I shook my head, biting my lip ring to keep from smiling. That would only make him even more grouchy than he already was, and I wasn’t in the mood to poke the beast today. Maybe later.
“She won’t wake up,” Grey assured me. “She was dead to the world when I checked in. Twenty bucks says when I come back to get her at lunch she’s still a corpse.”
My lips pressed into a tight line.
“Your funeral,” I muttered, brushing past Grey to grab myself a bottle of water from the still ajar fridge. “Are we leaving or what? I have someplace to be.”
She rushedthrough the chapel doors like a thief in the night, spinning rapidly to ease the large wooden pane closed behind her, wincing as the lock caught with an audibleclick.
“Caroline,” I greeted her, leaning against the back pew with a grin.
Her brows lowered as she turned and took me in, confused by the state of my clothes and something on my neck. Dirt, I assumed from the gritty feel of it. From digging the Ace’s grave last night.
“Problem?” I asked her.
She hurriedly shook her head, wetting her lips as she walked over to me. Hips swaying, cheeks flaring pink beneath her makeup.
Mrs. June reached for me, going for a kiss, but my stomach twisted, and I stopped her, my fingers rough around her throat. I shook my head.
“No,” I said on a breathy growl. “Kneel.”
Her eyes lit with her smile as she dropped to her knees, thin fingers unbuttoning my jeans as she wetted her lips again.
I moved my hand to her head, messing up her prim little blonde bun as she freed my cock from my jeans. I tipped my head back as she took me into her mouth, waiting for theneedto take me.
Her tongue lapped at my flaccid cock and she added a hand to pump its base when that didn’t return it to the rock-hard state it’d been in earlier.
She did that thing I liked with my balls, and redoubled her efforts with her tongue, pumping double time with her fist now.
My patience waned, and I snatched up a fistful of her hair and thrust my cock deep into her mouth, making her choke on it.
She gagged and moaned, happy to open wide and let me do as I wanted.
Except...this wasn’t it.
The image of Ava Jade passed through the fog of my thoughts like a ghost and I grimaced, sneering as Mrs. June struggled to breathe. Then a more vivid image. The image of her beneath me, pressed between my thighs and the pavement on fight night when I held her down. The look in her eyes.
The panic.
