We head downstairs and as promised, Taylor and Bensen have tacos ready for us to eat. We each grab a soda and some tacos and eat them on the sofas where some movie I’ve never seen before plays. Gale’s snoring before the opening credits are over.
Taylor’s on his phone, texting someone constantly. I’m so zoned out I can hardly pay attention to the movie. My mind is lost in the past and on what happened today with Callum. Not only him but the people who died too. Was Grahm one of them? I hope not.
I shut my eyes and try not to think about it like John said, but it’s impossible.
Bensen hands me a blanket. I blink at him and lift a brow before I realize I’m shivering. “Thanks,” I whisper and happily take it.
John scoots in closer to my side and pulls me against his chest. “You’re still pretty cold from the other night,” he mutters and brushes my hair from his face.
I instantly melt into his arms. His warmth bleeds into me so quickly that I can’t help but latch on to it. John sets his hand on my side and rests his head on the top of mine. A thread of guilt moves its way through me, because I wish it were Roman and not John comforting me right now.
Why do I yearn for comfort from someone who is utterly incapable of giving it?
Just as my eyes are starting to get heavy, the lights flick on. It makes me flinch. I almost forgot that Roman was still in the building. Everyone ignores his presence except John.
Roman’s eyes burn into me. He works his jaw as he lets his gaze drag over us and where we’re cuddling on the couch. He tilts his head and gives me a cruel grin. “Go figure, Squirt makes her way around, doesn’t she? Seconds don’t look good on you, Bishop.” Roman doesn’t spare us another look as he stomps upstairs.
My cheeks flare. “That’s it, I’ve had enough of his fucking shit,” I grind out and crawl off the couch to chase him upstairs.
John grabs my wrist and shakes his head. “He’s just being an asshole.”
“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it.” I shake him loose and follow Roman up the steps. By the time I get to the top, he’s already in the garage, revving up his crotch rocket and about to put a helmet on.
He gives me the coldest eyes.
“What’s your fucking problem?” I fist my hands at my sides to stave off the fury that has me trembling like a leaf. I’m so sick of being afraid of him.
He just scoffs at me with a nasty smirk and sets his helmet over his head. I storm up to him and try turning his motorcycle off. Roman snatches my wrist and shoves me back.
I fall on my ass and have to swallow the pain that shoots up my tailbone. Roman physically jolts when I hit the ground, and I can hear him let out a furious sound in his helmet before he takes it off and tosses it.
My lungs fill with oxygen, and my eyes widen as he bends down and lifts me up effortlessly. I set my hands on his shoulders for support as he sets me down on his bike.
“My problem isyou, Squirt,” he says with a deeply furrowed brow.
“Why am I always your problem? I’m not doing anything! And—” My words are shut off with a brutal kiss. Does he seriously think I’m going to just let him kiss me after what he’s said today? I set my hands on his chest and push him away.
He backs off for only a second before he’s licking his lips and gives me another crushing kiss. This time he threads his fingers through my hair and pulls my head back. A cry escapes my lips, and I’m left whimpering as he kisses my throat.
“You are my problem because you’re fucking distracting. Trouble follows you wherever you go, doesn’t it?” Roman murmurs over my neck and curls his fingers into my waistband. “I hate how much I want to touch you.” He leans up and kisses me as he slips his hand into my panties.
Chills erupt over my skin, and all I can do is hang my head back and breathe sharply as he inserts two fingers deep inside me. I bury my nails into his back and he groans, deepening our kiss and devouring me.
The brief moment of pleasure is interrupted by my sensible side. Am I really going to let someone who calls me terrible things and nicknamed meSquirtfinger me right now?
I’m not letting go ofWhoreton.
I break our kiss, and he stares at me with half-lidded eyes filled with lust and desire. “If I’m such trouble, then why don’t you let me leave. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m a survivor and after today, it’s clear that this isn’t the place I should be.” In an odd way, I want to stay. I’ve gotten rather close with them, and as much as I hate to admit, Roman did save me earlier.
But a nagging guilt rears up:Why didn’t I shoot Callum when I had the chance?
Callum would’ve taken the shot if given the same opportunity. I know he would. So why couldn’t I do it? Gale’s life was on the line.
Roman’s fingers are still knuckle?-deep inside me, but his expression is made of stone. “We’ve already gone over this—you are tied into this as much as we are now.”
I look away, even though we’re stuck in a very intimate position right now. “Yeah, well maybe it wouldn’t be so hard if you weren’t such a coldhearted asshole. It’s clear you despise me, so instead of messing with me and getting in my head, just leave me alone.”
He curls his fingers, and it makes me squirm. A soft moan escapes, and his eyes flicker at my response. “Why? So you can go back to John and let him comfort you again?” Roman says ruthlessly.
