Now, I’m holding my breath, holding her safe and strong. But she’ll never really be safe with me, will she? Too mad. Too wild. Too destructive.
I’ve always wrecked things. Always broken everything. I’m like a bloody storm—couldn’t hold onto anything, not even my own flesh and blood. I remember the house all up in flames. My house. My flames. The screams of the ones still left inside as it burned to ash.
I destroy everything.
Fuck you, Rory, you should’ve kept your big, dumb fucking mouth shut.
Finally, I comb my hand through her violet curls. “It’s okay to hate me.”
“I don’t.”
It was so soft, I almost didn’t hear. Just this little, broken whimper.
“I hate myself.”
“Bloody Christ, Briella!” I cup her face and tilt her jaw, hunting for her eyes.
She spits. Spits right on my cheek, this raw, unfiltered expression of wrath. I’m this close to just putting her in the bed and walking right out in the ice and snow in nothing but my skin. Sleep in the damn butcher shed—with the blood stains and stench of rotten flesh. Right where I belong, what I deserve.
Then, she kisses me. A light kiss, barely a brush of her lips on mine. Her eyes watery. Fucking destroying me.
“Ye gotta help me out here, woman.” I cup her cheek and smear away the tears there.
Her eyes turn into hazel daggers. “You goddamn piece of work. Why didyouhave to be the first?”
I give her a blank look, hanging on her every word. And then, it dawns on me. And I smile. No, I fucking grin from ear to ear.
“Ye not fucking with me, right?”
There’s my woman, brandishing her sweet fist, but she trains it right under my jaw and grits her teeth. “I hate myself for howfuriousI am with you right now, how much I want to hold onto my hate because it’s easier to feel than to accept what you just said.”
“Because…I was thefirst?” I chuckle and cover her fist with my hand, lowering it.
“Five of you! Five big, motherfucking, moronic monsters, and the biggest and dumbest of them all has to say itFIRST? Take it back.” She clenches her fist again.
“No.”
She hisses. So fucking adorable. “Take it back, Rory.”
“Nah, Lass.” I grab her wrist, bending her back, and pressing my chest to hers. “Not happening.”
“I mean it, you bastard.”
“So did I.”
“You can’t be?—”
“I love you.” My grin gets even bigger.
She grabs my hair with her other hand, yanks hard. “Rory, you sick sonofa?—”
I take her mouth while I’m still roaring with laughter. I take her down to the floor with her oily back, covered in my scars, on the wool blanket. She tries to fight. But it doesn’t last. Not with how hard I’m kissing her. She’s kissing me back, fingers grippingthe back of my hair and pulling me closer, harder. My angel tonight. And my she-demon.
She moans and sobs, her teeth cutting on my lips.
And then, I kiss my way down her beautiful body.
“God, Red!” she squirms and writhes when I suck her breast, licking my dastardly tongue all around that dark pink nipple. “Fucking hate you.”
