When he finally brought our bodies together, he made it hurt in a different way.
It wasn’t brutal or cold. He fucked me lovingly, and the pain went deeper than anything I’d ever felt before. It was beautiful agony. He was tearing me open and digging out the soul I didn’t know I had, taking it for himself, permanently tying us together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
He was gone when I woke up again.
I dressed, trying to stuff my thoughts in a cell of their own and keep a positive outlook.
Shit would be okay; I always found a way to make things okay—that’s what I did, fixed my shit with duct-tape and super glue. It was never perfect or pretty but it was together.
Leaving the room, I listened for sound, hearing nothing. The building was eerily silent.
Half-way down the metal grated stairs, Arlen and Cobra came around a corner.
“Sleeping Beauty lives!” Cobra exclaimed.
“Are you okay?”
I ignored him and focused on Arlen, who had a bruise that looked like it went down the whole right side of her body.
“I should be askin you that, but we should go.”
“Grimm and Romero already went ahead so we don’t lose em, but turns out David isn’t happy about his buddy Gabe and all his delegates kicking the bucket. He’s trying to move again; we’re playing interception,” Cobra explained.
I sucked in everything he said with rapid thought process.
“Why didn’t he wake me up?” I asked, already walking towards the door before either of them could answer.
“You look like you need as much sleep as you can get.”
“Shut up, idiot,” Arlen snapped at him.
“It’s fine. When do we leave?”
“Are you sure you feel up to this after the—”
“I wanna go,” I cut him off.
“Okay, you’re the boss.”
When derelict buildings began to appear, I had a good idea where we were heading.
“Is this really a good place to meet?” I glanced in the rearview mirror at the trail of cars Cobra had met up with a few miles back.
Narcoosee Bridge only had two different directions you could go, and stone barriers on either side to prevent someone from driving into the water.
I leaned forward when I spotteda fewblack Jeeps up ahead, anda fewpickups on the other side of the low stone divider.
Cobra stopped his Pontiac behind a few other cars and cut the engine.
“Where are they?” I asked, searching for him.
“He’s right there.” Cobra pointed and I followed.
“Why…what is he doing?”
I stared across the bridge to where Romero and Grimm stood with three robed figures behind them, and a brunette between them.
