Page 50 of Locke

So, yes, wary he might be, but scared? Jem had faced demons greater than Locke’s. He had been exposed to far worse than even he had.

Jem took a step forward and peered into the bedroom, those questioning eyes widening, those lips twisting down in a deep frown.

In a quiet voice, he said, “What the fuck have you done, Max?”

*

Kali was still asleep when Jem peered in. Thankfully hidden under the bedsheets, he couldn’t see clearly what had gone on, but he could see the rope and that was all he needed to know.

Jem backed up a step, shaking his head as he stared accusingly at Locke. “Tell me she’s a whore.”

Locke just stared at him.

“Tell me she’s not here against her will,” Jem urged next. “Because I see ropes on that bed. I see blood too. Tell me I’m getting the wrong picture, Locke.”

But Locke stared evenly at Jem, answering, “She witnessed a murder.”

“What the fuck, Locke.”

“I couldn’t let her go.”

Jem backed away from the door, turning away now as he ran an aggressive hand through his hair, growling, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, LOCKE?”

Locke immediately shut the door and stood there, like he was guarding it like Jem might implode and come after her. The last thing he needed was Jem to play the fucking hero.

“Things got out of hand,” Locke continued to explain.

“She’s got blood all over her face and arms.”

“My blood.”

Jem looked him over again, paying closer attention to the claw marks. “You let her hurt you?”

Locke gritted his teeth, choosing his words carefully. “It offered her relief.”

But Jem was having none of this weak ass excuse. “Is she against her fucking will in that bedroom or not?”

“The situation is a little more complicated than a yes or no. Short answer no, long answer yes.”

Jem looked gobsmacked. “How are they both?”

“Because I made a deal to let her go.”

“Then what’s the fucking problem?”

Locke took a moment to respond as Obsession slinked through his veins. “I want to keep her.”

Jem didn’t respond for some time. He wandered away from the door, crossing his arms as he strolled through the barely furnished apartment.

“What’s her history?” he finally asked when Locke went to join him in the lounge area.

“I don’t know,” Locke answered. “I only just found out her name.”

“Rich bitch?”

“No.”

“Loving family type then? What’s your impression?”

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