Page 7 of Death Kiss

THREE

KAT

Liam goes through to the other room as I strip off. Sure, I’m curious bout his gift, but mostly I’m in need of a release. Desperately.

Whenever stress digs its talons into me, I find myself seeking delicious destruction in Liam’s arms. For his words to lick away my worries like flames. His cock to make me forget the world. I’m not sure whether my need to have him consume me is healthy, but since we are going to embark on a mission to kill a bunch of horrific fuckers, who needs to worry about healthy?

The divine squish of my nest-like bed swallows my ass when I sit down, making it harder to look demure while naked. Should I cross my legs? Nah, that’s a full-on clunge flash as he walks into the room. Not that he’d object, I’m sure.

I move my legs to the side, resting on one hand while draping the other over my hip. Why do I feel like such a tit? Liam’s seen me naked every day for the past six and a bit months. It’s not like he’s going to walk in and be like ew.

Liam comes into the room clutching two hot pink boxes: one long and thin, the other bigger and square. I needn’t have worried about the way I’m sitting, because Liam drinks me in, his gaze darkening as he steps closer. My skin prickles with excitement at the intensity of his stare. The way he makes me feel like the most delectable thing he’s ever seen is something I’ll never tire of.

He passes me the long skinny box and sits beside me.

‘Is it a vibrator? Chocolate bar?’ I say before shaking the package.

Liam’s scarred lip quirks upwards. ‘Open it and find out.’

The tape holding the lid down takes me a few moments to unstick. Finally, the lid tips open and I shift the black tissue paper to reveal a gleam of silver. Curved steel meets a delicate handle, forming the most stunning knife I’ve ever seen. There’s ivy etched along the blade, just like the ones etched along Liam’s body.

‘Liam,’ I whisper, lifting the blade and discovering another beneath, a mirror image of the first. ‘They’re beautiful.’

‘You’ll need to be able to defend yourself if we’re going to do this.’

The edge is sharp as I run my finger along it, the bite of the metal surprisingly exciting. Liam takes the knife from me and places the other box in my hands. I tear into it, catching glimpses of hot pink and black hidden amongst the tissue paper. Hard, glossy plastic lies smooth beneath my fingers. Two solid masks, featureless except for hearts around the eyes. One is pink with black hearts, the other the opposite.

‘I love them,’ I say with a smile. ‘Put yours on.’

Liam takes it, slips it on, and pulls his hood up. The way it makes me clench my thighs should really have me running straight to therapy.

It’s been too long since we visited his mask and the way it makes me feral.

Liam takes mine from my hand and slides it over my face. It’s a little claustrophobic, but I love that it instantly infuses me with a sense of power. Like stripping my features away lets the darkness that lurks rise to the surface.

Moving to the mirror, I admire the mask. The way my hair spills around it. Liam’s masked face appears behind me, and I take in our combined look. Different. But the same.

He hands me one of the knives, and I test its weight. The weapon feels good. Suited to me.

‘We’ll be unstoppable,’ I say. The words slip around the mask, eerie with no mouth moving.

‘Are you sure you want to do it?’ Liam asks, his dark eyes locking with my blue ones in the mirror.

‘They don’t deserve to live. To die peacefully off their tits on morphine, lauded as kind souls who were for the people.’ It’s amazing how many of the men on the list appear to be saviours. Bastions of justice. A police officer. A judge. Two teachers. A minister. Monsters hiding behind false virtue.

Good men.

Nice men.

Trusted men.

All the scourge of the earth.

‘But you deserve to live,’ Liam says softly. ‘What if you end up dead, or in prison?’

I’ve thought about it more times than I’ve let Liam coat my insides. Which is a fucking buttload. In all the senses.

‘Then we go together.’