Chapter 26 #2
Yes, it’s happening, because I closed the distance between us.
His lips remain pressed on mine. Soft and shy, just lingering there.
But I want more; I’m not settling for that.
I grab the back of his neck and pull his body onto mine, shamelessly forcing my tongue into his mouth.
Damien moans into me with a mixture of desperation and relief.
As if he’d been wanting to do this for a long time too.
Fuck, yes . . . This is it.
He tastes like the blood of the dead motherfucker on the other side of the room.
But I don’t care. I’m going to swallow every last drop of Owen’s blood, until I can finally taste Damien.
And he doesn’t try to stop me at all. More than anything, he melts into me and follows my lead.
Until his hand travels down my chest and abs, landing on the outline of my hard cock.
A shiver runs down my spine as I pull away, both overwhelmed and terrified by the whole thing.
“Wait—” I press my nose against his, panting onto his lips. “I don’t want to do this in front of that fucking corpse.”
“Oh . . .” He turns to take a quick glance at Owen, then looks back to me and rolls his eyes. “I’d forgotten about that.” I stare at his bloody lips until he speaks again. “We should probably get the hell out of here before someone comes looking for him.”
I nod, although I don’t want to let go. Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped him, but the damage is done.
Damien’s already crawling away from me and getting off the sofa.
He stares at the dead body for a few seconds, then looks down at himself.
His cute face is still covered in blood, his lip rings glistening as he licks them clean.
“Shit, he ruined my best outfit.” He sighs, and all I can do is laugh.
Of course that would be his main concern.
I’m so damn high on him that I can barely understand what’s happening. My heart beats so fast that it might as well break out of my rib cage. A few seconds go by until I manage to collect myself enough to speak.
“Why don’t you take a shower?” I ask. “We can’t leave the house with you looking like that.”
Damien looks at me over his shoulder and shrugs. “Yeah, you’re right.”
As if it was the most logical thing to do, he takes off his soaked tank top and drops it on the floor, producing another small puddle of blood. I’m speechless, watching him kick off his boots and pull down his jeans. His bare ass is right in front of me, and my entire face lights up on fire.
It doesn’t seem to be a big deal for Damien, though.
He steps away from the pool of blood and disappears in the hallway, searching for the bathroom.
I soon hear the water running and force myself off the sofa.
Looking at Owen’s dead body sends an ugly shiver down my spine.
My brother really went all out on him. Not like he didn’t deserve it, though.
I pick up Damien’s clothes from the floor and go searching for the laundry.
If this is his favorite outfit, we can’t just leave it here.
I find the washer and dryer in a closet and put both of our clothes inside in the shortest cycle possible.
I don’t think anyone will come looking for Owen right now, since he’s supposed to be hanging out with me.
We probably have a few hours before anyone realizes what we’ve done.
Walking around the house slowly, as if I would run into someone and get caught, I wash my face and hands in the kitchen sink before searching for the main bedroom.
It’s the first door down the hallway, with light brown carpeted floors and pristine white walls.
All the furniture is part of a matching set, mid-century style like everything else.
The king-sized bed in the center is covered in silky white sheets and pillows, just like I imagine a luxury hotel bed would be.
I turn away from the bed to go through Owen’s closet, searching for something small enough for Damien to wear.
All the jeans seem too big for him, but I could probably get away with wearing them.
There might not be time to get his outfit dry before leaving, so I prepare an outfit for me and a simple T-shirt for him to wear with my jeans.
Luckily, Owen threw them on an armchair, where they haven’t been touched by blood.
While I go through the drawers searching for underwear, I find a huge stash of money.
All one hundred dollar bills, perfectly placed and aligned.
I stare at it for a while, wondering what I should do.
But what’s the point of leaving it there?
Owen is dead. He won’t be needing it anymore.
I stuff it all in an empty, battered backpack that I find at the back of the closet.
It’s a lot of cash; it will probably come in handy.
Inside the same drawer, there are several IDs of people I don’t know, birth certificates, and papers corresponding to the house—which is not in Owen’s name but under some guy called Ronald.
I find a notebook too, that I flip through quickly.
It seems to be a log of transactions of some kind, and for pretty big amounts of money, ranging all the way to tens of thousands of dollars.
As far as I can see in a quick glance, anyway.
But I’m certain that something shady was happening.
There are hotel names and addresses written under every transaction as well.
What the hell was Owen doing? The numbers are way too high to be just drugs. Was he . . . pimping out humans? Selling them? A chill runs down my spine as I realize just in how much danger I was, being so close to him.
What if he was trafficking vamps too? Would he have raped me, kidnapped me, and then sold me as a slave to someone else? I can’t seem to shake the terror off my bones, so I close the notebook and stuff it into the backpack. I should probably take a better look at it later.
Damien walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. I’m frozen, staring at the subtle curves of his abs and his lean figure, making my dick tent my boxers again. Fuck. My brother’s eyes move down to the problem in question as he chuckles.
“What are you doing, Killi?” he asks, although his gaze remains on my crotch.
“I—” I try to cover up, but it’s pointless, so I just swallow hard and let him stare. “I picked outfits for us. We can’t leave the house covered in blood.”
“Good idea.” Damien winks at me and closes the distance between us. He grabs the plain grey T-shirt I’m holding and stares at it in disapproval.
“It’s the smallest one I could find,” I say. “You’ll have to wear my jeans, because Owen’s are too big.”
He seems to like that idea, since there’s a devilish grin on his face now. “Let’s get dressed and leave this fucking hellhole.”
And that’s exactly what we do.
We change in silence, staying away from the pool of darkening blood and the corpse leaning against the brick wall.
I clean Damien’s boots in the kitchen sink, then pick up our damp clothes from the washer and stuff them into a plastic bag.
When I return to the living room, I find Damien leaning over Owen’s body with his folding knife in his hand.
“What the hell?” I ask.
“I forgot to leave a message for whoever finds this motherfucker.” Damien laughs darkly, taking a little jump to step away from Owen without getting wet.
He slides his knife in the pocket of my jeans.
They look slightly big and definitely too long on him, but I love that he’s wearing my clothes, carrying my scent around with him.
I step closer to see what he’s done, and freeze. On Owen’s forehead, he’s carved the word rapist. As unhinged as my brother can be, this time, I find myself agreeing with his actions.
“Do you think we should just leave him here?” I ask. “What if the police find him? We shouldn’t let humans get their hands on a vampire corpse—what if he doesn’t decompose? We don’t know what happens when we die—”
Damien interrupts me. “It won’t be the police finding him, Killien.” He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at his peculiar work of art. “It will either be Jacob or Abby, I’m sure.”
Does he not care what Jacob will think when he sees this? I start to panic, realizing that we’ll be in a lot of trouble the second someone sees Owen dead. We killed another vampire, and that will certainly have consequences.
Why did I not think about this earlier?
Oh, right. I was too busy getting turned on by the carnage. For fuck’s sake.
“What are we gonna do?” I swallow hard, looking between the dead body and my brother’s unbothered, pretty face.
“Pack and get the hell out of this city, of course.” He looks at me like it’s obvious.
And it probably is, I just hadn’t thought about it.
“I’d burn the house down, but our SUV has been parked outside for a while, and we’d become suspects.
I guess it’s better to just let his friends deal with this mess. This is all their fault, anyway.”
I don’t understand why he’s saying that, but I can’t bring myself to ask. We make sure to close all the windows and curtains in the house, and then leave through the front door. There’s no one to see us exit, anyway.
As I drive us home, I can’t help but smile at the idea of running away with Damien. I can’t believe it’s actually happening. It will be just the two of us again. Which is perfect. We don’t need anyone else.