“Happy birthday, Sable. I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you today. If you need space, I get it.
But I owe you a cake, and I wouldn’t dare let your birthday slip by without acknowledging such a beautiful woman.
If I’m lucky, one day I’ll get to taste that cream cheese frosting with you... and maybe a little more of you too.
Enjoy—H.”
Demi clasps a hand over her heart. “Aww, Frank is so sweet. And hot.”
I freeze. “Don’t call him Frank. He’s not the fucking Punisher.”
I take back the cake and walk to the kitchen.
Behind me, I hear her murmur something that sounds a lot like,“he punished that pussy…”and I nearly drop the box.
Mom spots it and beams. “Ooooooh, who’s the cake from?” she teases, her eyes glinting mischievously.
“A maaaann,” Demi drags out the word to get a reaction.
I roll my eyes, but my pulse spikes. I can already feel heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks.
“A man, huh?” Mom’s smile widens as she leans in to inspect the cake. “What kind of man sends cake to a woman’s house?”
“Oh, you know, just a guy who knows I like red velvet and thinks I’m hot.” I try to downplay it, but Demi isn’t having any of it.
“Uh-huh, hot, that’s all,” she says, leaning against the counter, enjoying herself way too much. “What’s his little nickname for you? It wouldn’t happen to beLegswould it?”
“Fuck off, Demi.”
My mom and Demi continue, but I’m gone. I stare at the cake, and my thoughts go right back to Hex. His card. His words. His admission.
He kills people.
Can I get past that? Or is it not about moving past, but accepting it?
He’s dark. Dangerous. But kind in a way that’s rare. He doesn’t go after innocents. He protects the people he cares about.
I swallow hard. I’m so damn conflicted.
But the cake? It’s drool-worthy.
And so is he.
Fuck.
My pocket vibrates and I pull my phone out, half-expecting it to be Hex, but the moment my eyes catch the unfamiliar number, my stomach drops. It’s not him. My pulse spikes, and my hands go cold, but I can’t look away as I unlock the screen.
The first image lands hard, knocking the air from my lungs.
It’s me—on top of the bar at Ruin's End—legs wrapped around Hex—
No. No. No.
My body freezes. Blood thunders in my ears. Another image appears. I’m kneeling. Hands gripping his thighs. His cock in my mouth. The angle leaves nothing to the imagination.
I want to look away. I really do.
But I can’t.
