As for the other Polaroids in my pocket—the rest of my kill list—I fully intend to make my way through them. Whether they know it or not, each one of them is directly responsible for the innocence that faded from Riley’s eyes. They’re the reason I was there that night—the reason I’ve spent the last seven years becoming unstoppable.
15
ARIA
Birds chirp high in the trees above as the morning sunrise hits my overtired eyes, forcing me awake. I cringe into the fresh brightness of the day, my body aching in a million different ways. The ground is cold and unforgiving beneath my body, but there’s a strong, warm arm wrapped around my waist. It takes too long for me to realize that my cheek is pressed against Stone’s ginormous chest.
What the ever-loving fuck? I must have scooted my ass over here in my sleep while searching for a source of heat. Either way, cuddling the oversized mass murderer? Probably not my finest moment. Though there’s no denying how good it feels. His whole arm circles my body, and right here, like this, I feel as though nothing could ever touch me. Buuuut, on the other hand, he’s a mega asshole with an attitude problem, and considering the sun is now in the sky and we were only supposed to rest here for afew hours, I think it’s fair to say we’ve overstayed our welcome against these particular trees. So I’m going to go ahead and cut this shit short.
Shoving my hand into his chest, I use his body as leverage to help scrape my ass off the dirty ground, sitting up as my face twists with a yawn. “Wake up, asshole,” I grunt, wiping a hand down my face. I feel as though I’ve been run over by a truck, and he has the nerve to look comfortable. “It’s morning. We overslept.”
Stone groans and reaches for me, attempting to pull me down against him, then his eyes spring open, suddenly remembering where the hell we are. “Fuck,” he spits, flying up off the ground in one swift movement, making me wonder if it was even his intention to sleep. Maybe he meant to just sit for a while but succumbed to yesterday’s exhaustion. “We’ve gotta get moving.”
“Geez, not even a good morning. How’d you sleep?”
“You slept like shit and used me as a human radiator. Now, get moving.”
I stare up at him, my lips twisting in annoyance. “You’ve never had girlfriends before, have you?”
He scoffs, reaches down, grips my arm, and pulls me to my feet. His hand settles on my waist for just a moment, making sure I’m steady, and the second his fingers touch my body, a pulse of electricity fires through me. Then just as quickly as it came, he releases his hold, leaving me colder than ever before.
“None that mattered enough for me to ask how they slept,” he mutters, turning away and starting for the woods.
“Can a girl not pee first thing in the morning?”
“Sure,” he says, turning back around and casually staring directly at me. “Go ahead.” He waves at the ground.
“You can fuck right off if you think I’m about to lose my pants and pee for your entertainment,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. “Now, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen thewondrous phenomenon otherwise known as a vagina, but this isn’t the way you’re going to get reacquainted. It’s giving . . . pervert.”
Stone rolls his eyes and huffs. “Fine. Go. But I swear, if you’re not back by the time I count to ten, I’m coming for you, and I don’t give a shit what position you’re in or if that sweet little cunt is on display. Got it?”
“Jesus. Okay,” I mutter, taking my time as I turn on my heel and move into the thick bushes, hating all the little insect bites covering my skin. “Someone’s grouchy in the morning.”
“One,” he calls, his voice booming from behind me and making my heart start to race. He’s not kidding. He’s actually going to count to ten, and if I’m not done . . . Well, fuck.
I rush behind the biggest tree, grip the top of my pants, and start working the buttons, but my frantic fingers are taking far too long.
“Two.”
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Three.”
Shimmying my pants and thong to my ankles, I start to squat down, only I don’t know which way to angle my hips that will ensure no squirtage lands on my pants, because shit. There are a lot of things I can handle, but having Stone Blackthorne see a little wet patch on the back of my pants due to poor aiming isn’t going to be something I could ever live down.
“Four.”
“SHUT UP, ASSHOLE,” I call, bracing myself against the tree as my bladder threatens to explode. “LET A GIRL CONCENTRATE!”
“Don’t test my limits, Riley Maddox.”
“IT’S ARIA!”
“Six.”
“You skipped five.”
“I don’t hear you peeing,” he throws at me. “Which means I can only assume you’re trying to make a break for it.”
