CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Raina
Damn, this grip he has on me is perfect. The way he disarms me is goddamn flawless. I’d tell him how impressed I am if I weren’t furious.
He points my gun at me. Not shaking. Not hesitating. Calm and lethal.
“I waited a week,” he says, his voice jagged and low. “And do you know what that did to me?”
I swallow hard. “The same that it’s done to me? Confused you?”
“Aye.” He hops off but keeps his gaze locked on me lying on the floor.
I sit up, fear pulsing through me.
“What the fuck are we doing, Venom?” He flips my gun in his hand. “There’re only so many times I will let you break in before I lock you in here and tie you to my bed.”
Yes, please.
God, what is wrong with me?
“Here.” He tosses the gun at me, and it clatters on the floor. “Finish me off because I can’t take it anymore. The pain when you’re not in my bed is unbearable. Everything smells like shit when I can’t breathe in your scent.”
Is he serious?
“Connor,” I whine.
“Let me make it easier.” He drags open his shirt.
The buttons spray the room like shrapnel as he bears his chest in an offering to me. The braided snake tattoo is my target. He’s daring me to kill him!
My hands shake. My exhale comes out broken. And then I’m crying.
Hot, silent, ugly tears that I hate. Because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Because I was supposed to end this. Because I’ve never wanted anyone so much and been so terrified of it at the same time.
Connor crouches low, hands braced on his thighs.
But I lift the gun again.
His voice turns to steel. “Just tell me who sent you, and I will end this. I will take care of you.”
Silence is my answer.
I can’t betray the people who call me family. Even if I don’t know who the hell I am anymore.
Connor exhales. “You broke in again. You didn’t kill me again. You know what that means.”
I say nothing, but the fear in my chest stutters into something darker. Thicker.
I can already taste the end of this story.
“I get to fuck you again.” He rises to his full, terrifying height.
The monster walks to the hidden door and wrenches it open with a creak that sounds like the gates of hell swinging wide. The passageway is dark, musty, and cold.
Connor drops his voice to a sinful purr. “This time, I’ll make it exciting.”
“How?”
“I plan to completely fuck with your emotions. Crank up the adrenaline that pumps your amazing heart.”
“I want that,” I groan, sniffing.
“Good.” Connor grins.
“What do I do?”
“Run.”