“Rory,” I murmur. “What is this?”
She’s silent for a moment and I wonder if I’ve pushed her too far.
“Do you know what Nightdust is?” She asks, refusing to meet my eyes.
I slowly nod.
Please, no.
Nightdust is horrific stuff. The first time is hard but the second time…most people don’t come back from it. It feeds on your worst moments. Takes the best moments and destroys them to the point where you can’t tell what’s real. After twice, most people chose death.
It’s sold on the black market—mostly to people wanting to torture their enemies. They’re little black, glittery pills or in some cases, a liquid.
It’s a Death Reaper original.
“Umm, well, Marcus thought that it would be fun to inject me at one of his parties. There were Dark Riders everywhere. They just…let me suffer,” Rory says softly, anger and despair circling in her voice.
“Just the once?” I double check, searching her back for any other markings.
“Yeah,” Rory tells me quietly. “I don’t know what I would do if it ever happened again,” she admits.
I hear stories about her father, Dark Riders, people from school but nothing again like the Nightdust.
We keep going until I touch one particularly painful looking one on her back and she flinches.
Rory exhales shakily, “Stop.”
I immediately draw my hand away.
“Okay,” I murmur.
We sit there until the water goes cold and we eventually get out.
I wrap a towel around her, finding another to dry her hair.
“You didn’t ask about mine.”
I’m surprised she didn’t. She showed me her scars so I expected that she would want to see mine—to know how I got them.
But she didn’t.
Rory glances up from pulling my shirt over her head. I keep my eyes trained above her naked body.
“I was waiting for you to offer.” Rory half smiles, using my words.
She hands me my clothes.
“Another day, Luci,” she tells me, stretching up to kiss me.
God, she’s perfect.
“Let’s go get something to eat, baby.” I squeeze her waist.
She leans over and releases the water down the drain. Unable to help myself, I smack her ass while she’s bent over.
She straightens and narrows her eyes, playfully on me.
“Watch yourself, Luci,” Rory purrs, her finger trailing down the centre of my chest to hook around the waistband of my tracksuit pants.
