Jesus,no.
That’s fucked up on about fifteen different levels.
I walk over to him, because it’s easier than coming up with an excuse not to. If he wanted to hurt me, all he had to do was raise that gun and pull the fucking trigger.
He moves fast once I’m in arm’s reach.
Too fucking fast, like he’s expecting a fight. Guy doesn’t seem to realize how hard I’m rolling right now. I couldn’t resist him if I tried…and I’m not sure I even want to anymore.
Rooke grabs the back of my neck, his muscles cording as he holds tight.
Fuck.
I can see his veins. Blue-green slashes running up his arm that pulse with power.
Then his finger is in my mouth, and it’s bitter as fuck, and he’s rubbing it over my gums before pulling out and staring at me with the weirdest fucking look I’ve ever seen on his face.
Dude looks like he’s waiting for my teeth to fall out.
A tingling numbness spreads through my mouth, and I quickly cup my hands to catch my teeth because sure as shit, they’re gonna fall out now that it’s all dead inside.
He releases me, gives me a little push on my chest. Tilts his head to the side.
“That feel good?”
Jesus, everything feels good.
His voice, his touch, the way he’s looking at me like I’m something he wants to devour.
I run my tongue over my gums to check all my teeth are still there. Well fuck me, not a single one fell out.
“The fuck, dude?”
He smiles like he’s waiting to tell the punch line of a joke, and it’s gonna be killer.
“Do you love her?” he murmurs.
I huff out a laugh. “What?”
“The girl you came to rescue.” He points to the living room. “The one who bit you so hard it bled. The one you strangled so hard it bruised.”
Rooke grasps the back of my neck again and drags me close.
“Do. You. Love. Her?”
I know it’s a trap, but I can’t figure out what the right answer is when he’s this close to me. When it looks like he’s going to?—
Fuck, is he going to kiss me?
My body stiffens, my heart thundering inside my chest.
Why the fuck don’t I stop him?
Because some sick part of me wants to know what it would feel like. What he would taste like. With our faces an inch apart, I’m treated to a sliver of something insane, something psychotic, something dark and depraved, flickering in his eyes.
Cruelty.
A cruelty that survives, thatthrives,on crushing anything beautiful in the world.
