After Jackson opens the liftgate, I lay Merci down in the cargo area and his mask slips. Gone is the soft, innocent look of the teenager who infiltrated my home. Now he's all high cheekbones dusted with glitter and full lips.
Jackson and I secure his wrists and ankles with zip ties, the plastic cutting into his painted skin, and something twists in my gut. I can't process it, can't name it. Just another thing my damaged brain struggles to comprehend.
Raiyne leans against the SUV. "He's not the type to hurt anyone."
I straighten to my full height, staring at him. "You did your part. Now stay out of the rest."
He crosses his arms, his usual playful demeanor replaced with something harder. "He doesn't strike me as a killer, Knight."
My hand shoots out, grabbing his throat. I squeeze just enough to make my point. "Say one word about this to anyone, and I'll make sure you never breathe again."
"Zach." Jackson’s tone carries a warning.
I release Raiyne, who winks at me.
Brave little snake.
Jackson looks at him and jerks his head back toward the estate. "Get back inside. Make sure no one asks questions."
Raiyne nods, then looks at Connor with a smirk. "Enjoyed the show?"
Connor's jaw tightens. "Get the fuck out of here."
Raiyne laughs as he walks away.
"What's wrong?" Jackson's grin is pure evil as he closes the liftgate. "Feeling a little sensitive after getting your dick sucked by a Serpent?"
Connor's head snaps toward him. "Fuck off, Reed."
"Hey, no judgment here. I'm dating their captain, remember?" Jackson climbs into the back seat, still grinning. "Though I gotta say, didn't think you swung that way."
"I've got enough shit to deal with without your commentary." Connor slams the door after getting into the back seat opposite of Jackson. “Besides, it was just a blowjob.”
"Keep telling yourself that,” Viktor says as he slides into the driver’s seat. “Guess you’ll be kicking thatgirlfriendof yours to the curb, huh?”
My friend doesn’t respond verbally, just punches the door panel. Luckily, the conversation dies off.
After I climb into the passenger seat, we pull out of the lot and leave the estate behind us. The leather seats are cool against my skin and the engine purrs with quiet power as we merge onto the highway.
I stare out the window, the city lights blurring past. My reflection is hollow, empty—like every other day. I flex my left hand, trying to work out the numbness that's settled into my fingers.
"Want to tell me what happened in there?" Viktor glances at me before turning his attention back to the road. "Getting the cockroach off wasn't part of the plan."
"Sex is sex. And it served to distract him, giving you a chance to inject the Ketamine into him." My voice is flat, detached. Like always. "Does it matter?"
"It matters when you're acting weird about it."
"Focus on your own relationship issues." The words come out sharper than intended. "Isn't your boyfriend still plotting my demise for what happened with the whips?"
Viktor's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Beckett's not plotting anything. He just doesn't understand you."
Most days, I don't understand myself either. Like tonight. Getting hard from Merci grinding against me—that's just biology. Making him come—that was about control. But the way my skin burns where he scratched me, the way my cock stirs every time I look down at the stains on my clothes . . . That's something I don’t understand.
A soft groan from the trunk catches my attention. The sedative must be wearing off.
"He's going to wake up soon,” Connor says. “Should we dose him again?"
I shake my head. "He can wait until we get to the airfield."
