Page 63 of Bloody Quarter

Her eyes darkened, and my cock stirred. “Will you find Keith for me,” she asked as she kissed my bottom lip like a naughty kitten begging for milk. I licked at her and growled, pulling her body tight to mine when she opened for me. Kissing her hard, I ran my tongue over the little cut my teeth had caused.

There was a wild abandon in her eyes when Alora pulled away. She pushed herself up, standing as comfortably as I among the blood and death that surrounded us. She smirked and cheekily held out her hand, and I slid mine into hers.

“I need to go take Yara out. She’s probably worried. She was trying to help me,” she said, looking at the man who attacked her. I didn’t know who he was, but if she hadn’t killed him, I would’ve.

“Who was he?”

“The father of the other girl who died in the car. He blamed me for her death.” Alora sighed, and even though there was no longer the lingering blame in her eyes, she held a sadness that I would never understand. She pointed to the tables. “He had a gun and tried to shoot me first,” she said, like that wasn’t fucking important information as she strutted toward the office naked as the day she was born.

“Doll?” She looked over her shoulder at me. “You may want to wash up and put some clothes on.”

I shivered as she gave me a deliciously wicked smile. “I was tied up wearing nothing but body paint.” She looked down at her blood-coated body. “I don’t think this is much different. Besides, it’s far more fun.”

“Are you really testing me already?”

“Maybe I just want you to follow me. I know you can’t resist this,” she teased, and fuck me, I wanted her again already.

“True, but it also means I’ll end up killing anyone who sees you,” I countered. “Only I get to see you like this from now on. All new rules for a whole new us.”

“Fine,” she said with a dramatic sigh of compliance. She had me shaking my head as I chuckled under my breath. I’d created a monster, but she was my monster, my Frankenstein doll molded in my image. We were made for one another, and I would go to my grave protecting what we had.

Turning around, I stared at the man on the floor. His face was a tattered mess of blood, flesh, and bone from the glass Alora had used. Walking over, I squatted down and gripped his chin, forcing his head up off the floor.

Even though he was no longer in this shell of a body, I wanted to memorize the face of the man who had tried to take what was mine.

“I want you to know that you got off easy. What Alora did was self-defense. My actions would’ve been for pleasure.”

“You coming?” I looked up at Alora, who had managed to wash the majority of the blood off her hands and face. Her hair was tied up in a neat ponytail once more, and she was wearing one of my hoodies. Yara was cuddled in her arms, and fuck me, she was hot. I dropped his head and stood.

I’d thought of this moment so many times. How it would happen, and now that it was here, an understanding washed over me. Alora might have been reborn into her new life with me like I’d planned. But, she’d also reached into my chest with the last beat of her heart and entwined our souls together so tightly that my heart no longer beat for me. It danced for her.

Alora

Greyson grabbed my hand and linked our fingers. I smiled but kept staring at the Molisano’s logo etched into the window. So much had changed from two nights ago. Greyson had taken care of Mr. Landry’s body and the bar cleanup. He wouldn’t let me help at all, saying it was something he enjoyed. If I hadn’t already seen what he did with those he dispatched, I would’ve thought that was a crazy line to protect me from what I’d done.

I expected the toxic guilt to return and wrap itself around my neck as the weight of it tried to drag me down all over again, but it didn’t. I purposely thought about the accident and Mr. Landry, but there was nothing. It was just gone. It was like Greyson had found a way to wipe the slate clean. Did I miss my sister any less? No. Was I still sorry for what happened and what led to Mr. Landry’s death? Yes.

As much as I loved Greyson, I would trade places with my sister if I could, but the blame that I’d been shrouding myself in had fallen away.

“What are you thinking about? Is something wrong,” Greyson asked, and I shook my head no.

“No, it’s just after the scene Mr. Landry made and the way I left…it’s hard to walk in there and ask Mr. Molisano if I can have my job back. I can’t say why I’m no longer worried about Mr. Landry. I don’t think telling him I killed the grieving father and you cleaned it up would work.”

Greyson chuckled, the sound as sexy as it was soft. He brought my knuckles to his lips and kissed each one. I still had little cuts all over my body from the glass I rolled on during the fight. It looked like I battled a cheese grater and lost. His eyes turned up to mine as his tongue swirled around one of the bigger cuts that was still bright red. With a groan, he pulled his mouth away.

“You don’t need to explain any of that. Just walk in there and say that you’ve had time to think about his offer and you’d like to still work for him. Apologize for letting what happened with Mr. Landry get to you, and tell him you refuse to let anyone chase you away from your dreams.”

“Can you put that on a flashcard for me,” I teased, making him smirk. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy, and it’s the truth. He doesn’t need to know the details of what happened the last few weeks.” Greyson tucked my hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek. “Is there more going on? Are you thinking about Landry?”

Leaning into his hand, I soaked up the warmth of his skin. His touch felt so good and soothed all the fluttering in my stomach. “No, and yes. What happened here was the catalyst that started it all. The fight pushed me over the edge, and that’s why I ended up on the bridge. He is the reason we are here now.”

“Landry may have compelled you to drink, but he is not the reason we are together. Mark my words, you were always going to end up tied to my table.”

I swallowed hard. “Maybe so.” I watched as people wandered the street, completely unaware of the danger they were in just by walking past our car. If they did something that Greyson deemed to be unworthy of living, they wouldn’t last another day. At one point, it would’ve terrified me, but now…now, I was a different animal. “I defended myself the other night. I’ll never feel bad about that, but I don’t take pleasure in what I did to him, despite what we did. He was nothing more than a father grieving the loss of a child. He was lost in his despair, and I understand him and his anger.” Greyson searched my face, and I knew what he was looking for even if he didn’t say the words. “No, I don’t regret anything. Not the kill, not you, not us. I especially don’t regret how you’ve helped me find my strength.”

“You were always strong. You convinced yourself that you didn’t deserve to live, love, or chase your dreams. It’s called survivor’s guilt, Doll, and it was dragging you down and masking your potential.”