Page 68 of Killing Emma

I toss the keys to him, not in the mood to argue. “Okay. Meet you back there. I need fucking stitches.”

Jude’s eyes drop to my blood-soaked jeans. “Drive safe. You're pushing it.” He slams the passenger door, and I race to the driver’s side of the truck, climbing inside and slamming it shut. I still can’t look at her in the face.

I’m ashamed I almost killed her, but I’m also ashamed she knows one of my darkest secrets. It makes Jared look angelic, probably. I start the engine, and shift the truck into gear, whipping out of the parking lot just as a couple of guys appear in the alley.

“I had no idea it was you,” I hear my voice, but it sounds distant as I race toward the highway, cutting through traffic.

“I know,” she says, her voice devoid of emotion. “I thought… I thought it was maybe like a sex game or something, even though Jude told me the truth. And the guy said—” Her voice breaks into a sob. “I’m so stupid.”

“No,” I choke out. “I just… I shouldn’t have gone.”

“I thought you were at a strip club for the women,” she laughs, borderline manically. “But you were just there to kill people. I don’t know what’s worse.”

I reach across her, resting my hand on her thigh. “I can’t look at anyone but you—and I thought I was going crazy,” I admit. “I thought my head was playing tricks on me. I’m so fucking sorry.” I finally glance over at her. “I hurt you.”

She raises a brow at me. “I stabbed you.”

“I probably gave you a concussion.” I feel sick as I say the words. “I’m so fucking sorry, Emma. I never—I never would’ve done that to you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I kind of wanted to stab you,” she says. “For walking through a sex club.”

“I go through the back entrance, Little Red.”

“Oh.” Her eyes drop to my leg. “Then I guess I’m sorry I stabbed you.”

“All good,” I chuckle, punching my foot on the gas as I merge onto the highway. Jude isn’t far behind, and he catches up quickly. “But I’m going to kill him for bringing you.”

“No, don’t,” Emma says softly. “I was going with or without him.”

I eye her. “Why?”

“Because I’m a jealous, psycho bitch.” Emma’s voice takes a dark edge, and my cock comes to fucking life at her tone.

“Concussion talking,” I mutter.

“No,” she angles her body toward me. “It’s not. You didn’t really hit me that hard. I only saw stars.”

“Holy fuck.” I cringe. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Guilt, shame, anger, and pure sadness ravage me. “Why didn’t you say something as soon as you walked in?”

“I felt frozen,” she answers me, and then reaches for the center console, flipping it up so she can slide in beside me. “And maybe I was curious as to what you’d do.”

“Yeah?” I can’t breathe as her body brushes mine. The blood smeared across her cleavage is too much. I focus on the road, knowing I’m already close to the limit, anyway… I stiffen as I feel her fingers on the button of my jeans. “What’re you doing?”

“Proving that I’m just as good as the girls there,” she hits back.

“I never questioned that,” I breathe out as she frees my cock. “You’re the only fucking woman in this world as far as I’m concerned—” I stop talking as a groan escapes my throat. Emma wraps her tongue around the head of my cock, and it feels so good.

And so wrong.

She’s rewarding me for nearly killing her.

“Stop, Emma,” I choke out as she drops down my length. “I don’t—I don’t deserve this from you. Don’t you fucking see?” I start to break apart, fracturing right in front of her.

“You don’t want me?” The hurt is visible in her face.

“No, I want you more than anything,” I reason with her. “I want you so fucking much that I can’t stand the thought of anyone else ever having you, Little Red.”

Something flickers in her eyes. “Then let me do this. This is how you apologize.”

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