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I also hated to think that, because it would mean that the darkness took root later. After mom did what she did. After that man bled out near the train tracks in Lennox. It would mean that Ilet ittake root.
Did Rook’s darkness bury itself deep inside him after a trauma? Or was it there all along? Was mine?
Did our darkness lurk deep inside since we took our first breaths? Waiting for us to give into it…
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said in a whisper.
I swallowed hard.
“The person who hurt you…” Rook trailed off, catching my hand as it traced a path across his lower abdomen, trapping it in his iron grip. Making me look at him. Making me remember the man by the train tracks. The weight of him pressed against my body, holding me down. The feel of him between my legs. Of his blood spraying over my face and bare chest. “What was their name?
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
“It doesn’t matter because he’s dead.”
He didn’t seem surprised. A bit disappointed, maybe, like he was sad he wouldn’t get the chance to play with whoever it was in his torture shed.
It really was a shame. I’d have liked to watch.
“You?” he asked simply, and ice bloomed behind my breast. A cold sweat slicked my chest and forehead. I’d never told anyone since the day it happened and that old fear came rushing back. The image of a cell, cold, with iron bars and a toilet in the corner flashed over my eyelids as I shuddered, closing my eyes.
But the man on the tracks wasn’t the only man I’d killed now. There was Billy, too. You could even say I had a hand in the death of the Ace at the warehouse. And I didn’t lose any sleep over them like I did that first kill.
I was smarter, more careful.
And they deserved it.
I nodded.
I placed the hand not clutched in Rook’s tattooed fingers to his stomach again, slipping my hand along bumps of muscle to his back, finding the puckered ridge of a burn hidden beneath his ink. “And the one who did this?”
He didn’t move as I fingered one scar, then another, staring at me like he was looking for something he couldn’t easily find. “Barbequed.”
A smile found its way to my lips, and his brows furrowed at my reaction.
“Good.”
Rook jerked forward, taking me by the throat to pin me against the center island. The hard marble countertop slammed into the base of my spine, and I gasped, kicking up a heel to snatch a blade. He could’ve, but he didn’t try to stop me as I drew it and pressed it between us, to the zipper of his jeans.
His hold on my throat didn’t waver.
“Tell me to let go,” he challenged, leaning in until his warm breath was a promise on my lips. His own upper lip raising in a silent snarl. He squeezed, and I moaned.
I fuckingmoanedas he leaned in ever closer, a knowing smirk on his lips.
“Go ahead and cut me, Ghost. Leave your mark. I will.”
“You can try,” I croaked before thrusting my arm upward, taking him by surprise. His hold on my throat was broken, and I ducked low, rolling out of his reach, my blade drawn as I fixed my stance, a thrill going through me.
He ran his tongue over his teeth like a wolf might right before a kill and my breathing hitched.
“Will you kill me?” I asked seriously, the ache between my thighs begging to be quelled in the way I thought only this Crow could quench it.
“Want to find out?”
My nostrils flared.
