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He doesn’t break the skin, but the damage is fucking done.
My panties are soaked, my willpower’s roasted, and I’m just as damaged as him, because the thought of tugging him around by his throat has me ready to bend over and let him show me who owns who.
But he’s drunk and I’m fucking crazy.
“Get in bed.” I tear away from him.
JJ obeys, climbing between the sheets. I tuck him in hard, shoving the blanket tight, all the way to his chin until he’s bound like a corpse and he can’t come shambling after me with more of this emotional machine gun fire.
His O-ring pokes out of the blanket.
I’m going to die.
“Sleep,” I command, covering his needy gaze with sweaty fingers.
His lashes flutter against my skin. “Goodnight, Lilac.”
I run back to my room, still feeling ticklish spider feet dancing on my palm, still wearing the bracelet JJ put on me like the softest fucking handcuff.
Still can’t sleep.
Only now I’m pacing wondering if tomorrow I’ll wake up to JJ, Jett, or another broken heart.
THIRTY-SIX
LILAH
It takes me so long to fall asleep, it has to be almost dinner by the time I wake, feeling every ache from last night’s fight.
My bed’s empty.
I cock my head, expecting bickering and burning breakfast food, but everything’s quiet.
A sickening feeling worms in my belly.
I grab a honeyed Hunter hoodie and walk into the hall.
It’s quiet and dark.
“Orion?” My voice echoes.
I push into the bedrooms where they’ve been crashing, and their warm scents tease, but no one’s home. I hesitate the hardest in front of the room where I left Jett, but when I crack the door, all that’s left of last night is the pile of pony tails lining the smoothed-out bedspread like trophies.
I grip the burning bracelet on my wrist, fiddling with the silver ring, positive I’m not dreaming.
“Guys?” Tasting stomach acid, I walk the long hallway to the nest.
Empty.
Gone.
I suck in a hard breath, and my hands start to shake.
Don’t panic.
Do not panic.
They just…
