“I’m sorry,” she chokes out.
I bite back my growl of anger. Her hands come up to cover her face, but I catch her wrists, forcing her to look at me and face what she and her father did.
She’ssorry?
As if sorry could ever be enough.
But let’s see if she means it.
“You want to make it right?” I ask, my voice low and dangerous.
She nods frantically, tears streaming down her face. “Yes. Anything. I’ll do anything.”
“Then give me what you owe me.”
Her brow furrows in confusion. “What?”
I grip her jaw, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You hit me with that bat and ran. I told you last night. You owe me another kiss.”
“Now?” Her voice is barely a whisper. “Here?”
I look down at her naked body pressed against mine. The blood drying on her skin. The corpse lying next to us. “I can’t think of a better time. If I wait any longer, you’ll flee again. You’re good at running away, doe.”
Her lips tremble. Her eyes search mine, looking for mercy. Hoping for gentleness.
She won’t find it.
“I—” She swallows hard. “Okay.”
That trembling whisper is enough.
I crush my mouth to hers, claiming the kiss she owes me. She makes a small sound of surprise, her body going rigid against mine. But I don’t soften my grip on her. Don’t try and coax a deeper kiss. I take what’s mine, my tongue sliding past her lips, my hand fisted in her hair, holding her exactly where I want her.
For a moment, she’s frozen.
Then she kisses me back. Desperate, almost violent. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away. She’s not submitting. She’s giving as good as she gets, her teeth catching my bottom lip hard enough to sting.
When I pull away, we’re both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen, and her pupils are blown.
She stares at me, her chest heaving. “That’s what you wanted? A kiss?”
“That’s what you owed me.”
“And now we’re even?”
I laugh, and the sound is dark and bitter. “Even? Doe, we’re not even close to even. That was for the baseball bat.”
Fear flickers across her face. “What do you want?”
Instead of answering, I kiss her again. Slower this time, but no less claiming. My hand slides from her hair to cup the back of her neck, holding her captive while my mouth moves over hers with deliberate possession. When I pull back this time, her eyes are glazed and confused.
I release her hair and take her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing across her flushed cheekbones. I let my gaze rake down her naked body, then back up to her face, letting her see exactly what I’m thinking.
She’s mine for the taking. Naked. Vulnerable. Desperate for protection. Why shouldn’t I claim what’s mine? Her father took everything from me. My family. My future. The life I was supposed to have.
She’s part of what I’m owed.
She’s trembling again, but not from cold this time.
