One, two, three, four, five.
Her fingers tap against her thigh, and my heart fucking breaks.
"Talk to us," I say softly. "What's going on in that pretty head?"
"You want me to talk about watching a man get executed?" She laughs, but it sounds wrong. Broken. "What's there to say?You're all killers. I knew that coming in. I just... didn't expect to see it up close with zero warning, I guess."
Cyrus leans against her desk, arms crossed. "Kade shouldn't have done that in front of you."
"But he did." Her green eyes find mine. "And I didn't feel what I should have felt. I should be horrified. Planning my escape. Calling the fucking cops and turning you all in."
"But you're not," I finish quietly.
"No," she mutters, looking down at her hands. "I'm not. And that makes me just as fucked up as you are."
"Hey." I reach over, tilting her chin up so she has to look at me. "You're not fucked up. You're surviving. There's a difference."
"Is there?" The question is so small, so lost. "Because right now I can't tell."
Cyrus pushes off the desk, moving closer. "You're in shock. That's normal after witnessing violence."
Clinical motherfucker as always. Can't deal with his feelings, so he analyzes everyone else's.
"Nothing about this is normal," she says in a flat tone.
"Maybe not," I admit. "But we're here. And we're not going anywhere. So if you need to talk, or cry, or just sit in silence... you can."
Her eyes search mine, looking for the lie. But there isn't one. Not in this moment, at least.
"I don't want to talk," she finally says.
"Okay." I shift my position on the bed, getting comfortable. "Whatdoyou want?"
The question feels heavier in her responding silence. Her eyes drop to my mouth, then lower, and I see the exact moment the thought forms.
"Distract me," she whispers.
My cock goes from soft to rock hard in approximately two seconds.Fuck. "Distract you how?" I ask, just to make sure I'm not completely misreading the situation.
"However you want." She shrugs, but there's heat in her gaze that makes my mouth go dry. "You said I was yours. So use me. Make me forget."
I can hear Cyrus swallowing, even if his expression doesn't change.
"What?" She turns to look at him, and there's challenge in the set of her jaw. "I agreed to this. To all of it. And I'd rather feel something other than..." She gestures vaguely at herself. "This weird fucking numbness."
I exchange a look with Cyrus and see my own conflict reflected in his expression. This is what we wanted. What the contract says we can do.
But the fact that she's actually asking…
My cock throbs against the confines of my too-tight jeans, already leaking from the memory of her grinding up against me in the woods like she wanted me to forget every rule Kade ever made. I glance at Cyrus to see the same war playing out in the set of his jaw—want versus control, desire versus the consequences of admitting he wants this just as much as I do.
But sheasked.
That's the part that fucks me up completely. She's asking us to use her. To distract her.
"You sure about that?" My voice comes out like I've been gargling gravel. "Because once we start, Princess, we're not stopping until you're begging us to."
Her eyes meet mine again, and there's something wild in them. Something almost feral. "I'm sure."
