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Thomas didn’t look priestly as I stepped forward and aimed my phone’s camera at his face.
“Fuck you,” he spat as the flash brightened the blood on his face.
I attached it to a message to The Principal before I stepped closer, standing over him. “Let's see if your brother wants to answer my messages now. I have no problems spilling more blood. As much as it takes to get the answers I want.”
“We’re on the same fucking side here,” he growled, spitting more blood.
I lifted my stare to the statue of Christ hanging over the beaten priest. “Oh, I doubt that…very fucking much.”
FIFTEEN
Vivienne
“No!” Carven bucked and roared beside me, thrashing against the sheets.
“I’m right here,” I soothed, rolling over to stare at him in the dark. “Carven, I’m right here.”
I pressed my body against him, comforting without using my hands to touch him. The last thing I wanted to do was shock him while he was deep in whatever hell he battled. It was the third time he’d screamed in his sleep. The third time I’d talked him down from whatever terror gripped him tight. He was more like Colt than he realized.
“Vivienne?” he mumbled, his voice husky.
“I’m here.”
“Maybe it’s better for you to sleep in your own bed. Don’t want to hurt you.”
I flinched, keeping it from my tone. “Okay.”
I wanted to stay and fight, but I just didn’t have the energy. We were all just doing the best we could, protecting each other, hiding our own demons. My movements were slow as I rolled and kicked the sheets away. Exhausted and just done, I made my way to my room, pulled on silk pajamas from my dresser, and crawled under the blankets, shivering against the cold sheets.
This wasn’t right.
Us here without him.
I closed my eyes and rolled over in the bed, but I suddenly jerked them open. Something nagged me. A sound…a feeling. I slid out of bed and made my way into the hallway in time to catch the fleeting flare of headlights, then the crunch of tires.
London.
I followed the sound to the rear of the house, listening to the thud of the back door before heavy steps faded into the weapons room. He didn’t hear me, didn’t even see me, even when he flicked on the overhead light and stepped further inside the small room.
Rows and rows of weapons, from Glocks to SIG Sauers, to some kind of gun melded with a wicked-looking knife. I no longer flinched at the sight of them. Now I felt their edge…their brutality. Now, I knew how to hate.
He stiffened, suddenly realizing I was there. “Pet.” His voice was quiet…too quiet. “You don’t want to look at me right now.”
“Don’t I?”
He shook his head.
“Try me?”
He turned around, those dark eyes boring into mine. He was covered in blood. Flecks splattered his cheeks and there was a drop at the edge of his jaw. But that was nothing compared to his hands. I lowered my gaze, feeling my heart stop. Busted knuckles crusted with blood clenched, then dropped away as I stared.
My pulse boomed as the energy between us crackled, until we both lunged, slamming against each other. Teeth gnashed as we kissed, hands grabbed, tearing what clothing we could.
He still wore the tactical black vest…still wore his weapons, bloodied from whatever he’d been up to. But none of that mattered right now. I cupped his cock, gripping the hard length under black cargos.
“Jesus, pet,” he groaned.
That primal sound triggered something just as ferocious in me. I reached up, grabbed the webbing around his shoulders, and yanked him harder against me. “Fuck me,” I demanded. “Fuck me like you’ve fucked me before.”
