His eyes move to his crotch, and he shivers, and I crack up laughing. “How are the itchy pubes?” I tease.
“Still itchy.” He slants me some serious stink eye. “I haven’t forgotten I owe you for that.”
“I’m as bare as the day I was born, so you’re shit out of luck.”
“I know my way around your pussy, princess.” He smirks, and a dark glint flashes in his eyes. “And there are other forms of payback.”
I jab my finger in his arm. “You owed me that, and now, you owe me again.”
“Is that why you did it?” His fingers dig into the steering wheel, and a muscle pops in his jaw.
He need not elaborate because I know what he’s talking about. “I did it because I wanted to fuck Caz and you need to learn to share. You’re done cockblocking me.”
He grips the steering wheel tighter but doesn’t reply.
“I’ll have no issue passing those tests,” I say, putting this conversation back where it needs to go. “How soon will I be out of there?”
“You’ll stay a minimum of a week, and I wouldn’t get too cocky. You’ll be head to head against other members.” His eyes drill into mine. “Othermalemembers.”
“Most all of my training was against guys,” I admit, enjoying the look of displeasure that creeps across his face.
“You’re still inferior physically. No amount of skill can compensate for that.”
“I know men are physically stronger than women, but that doesn’t mean women can’t win in a physical fight. Being lighter on foot has its advantages, and it’s as much about mental resilience as it is physical.”
“How long have you been training withhim?” He looks like the question pains him to ask it.
“Since I was thirteen.”
His head whips to mine. “Since…”
“Your father kidnapped and tortured me. My dad wanted to make sure if anything happened to me again I could at least protect myself better.”
The car slams to a halt in the middle of the highway. Brakes screech and horns blare as cars swerve to avoid plowing into us.
“What the actual fuck is your problem?” I roar, throwing my hands up. “Do you have a fucking death wish?”
He flips the hazard lights on and kills the engine as his cell pings. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Caz parked behind us, flipping his finger up at passing cars as they blow their horns and shake angry fists in both our directions.
Turning to face me, Saint grips my face in his hands. “I need to know if he touched you, Lo.” His eyes scream, and I wonder if he truly cares or if he can’t stand the thought of Sinner touching what he considers his.
I convince myself it’s the latter, because it’s the easiest one to process and it enables me to remain detached.
“Did my father or any of those other bastards rape you?”
“What if I said they did?”
His chest heaves, and anger blazes in his eyes. “Then, they’re all fucking dead.”
“Killing them might seem like an easy solution,” I say, “but they deserve to rot in jail for their crimes. Dying is too easy.” I place my hand on top of one of his. “They didn’t rape me or touch me like that although they stripped me to my underwear, and I felt their pervy eyes on me all the time.” It was an effective form of psychological torture, and I spent that entire time waiting for them to take it further. It made me feel vulnerable and weak and utterly helpless.
He pulls my face to his, pressing his lips against mine. His kiss is hard and blistering with simmering violence. When he pulls back, it feels like my mouth’s just been assaulted. “They’re sick fucks, Lo, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d told me they had raped you.” He rubs my mouth, ignoring his cell when it vibrates again. “You’re older and sexier now, and that psycho dictates what you do for initiation. It scares me.”
All the color drains from my face. “You mean he could force me into having sex with him?”
He nods, and now, I get why he made the call on the safe house.
“Or it could be worse,” he adds.
