Sadness tweaked her blood-soaked lips, and she lifted her hand and set it on his chest. “It’s your heart. It’s your heart.”
Then her arm slumped to the ground.
A wail rose from the depths of him. A sonic boom that reverberated in the stillness of the night.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
He fought to stand, strain burning through his muscles, agony firing through his being as he grabbed her by the arm and tried to drag her.
Desperate shouts of misery cleaved from his mouth. “Help! Help! Someone, please help!”
But there was nothing.
No one to save them. No one to fight for them.
And he was weak.
So weak.
Darkness enclosed, and he fell face first to the damp earth.
The heart she thought he had imploding.
FORTY-SIX
SILAS
My cell rangfrom my pocket, and I ripped it out, heaving a relieved breath while my pulse simultaneously skyrocketed.
“It’s Cash,” I ground out to the guys who were again gathered in the shop, giving the signal of the call’s importance.
I strode out the open bay and into the glaring daylight where it was quiet.
The last four days had been torture.
Blissful fucking torture but torture all the same.
Giving Brinley orgasm after orgasm that she insisted on delivering right back, all while knowing the time was fast approaching that I had to end it.
Holding onto it for a few moments more like a glutton, feeding on all her good when I knew I was only going to turn around and ruin.
Getting more and more attached as I did.
Both of us curling up sated and tangled in my sheets, waking up with my head buried between her lush thighs, sending her to those heights all over again.
I never took it beyond that, like not doing so would somehow afford the two of us some kind of amnesty from the coming pain.
I knew it was bullshit, but I couldn’t fucking stop. I accepted the call and brought my cell to my ear.
“Cash.” It was a low slash of urgency.
We needed to get this thing done, and the more time that passed, the more precarious the situation got.
“Silas,” he grunted in his abrupt way.
“Tell me you have news.”
