Page 158 of Pretty Little Lies

Torin purposely grinds his hard cock into my upper thigh, and my lips part on their own. “Not recently, no.”

“You’re not gonna use your dick to get in here.”

“Fair enough.” He then lifts me in the air, forcing my thighs to wrap around his waist before he slams my spine into the brick wall. Then his lips follow, clashing into mine with a ferocity that takes my breath away and demands my being.

My soul.

Pretty Boy spoke pretty words, and my body is in another civil war amongst my heart and mind.

When do you stop fighting and allow them to prove otherwise?

It’ll hurt.

Nothing will be more painful than knowing that I loved and lost them.

Loved?

I gasp slightly in sheer panic before Torin’s tongue slides leisurely between my lips and calms me.

Holds me.

Literally and figuratively.

How? How did you do this, Bay?

“I’m scared, too,” Torin says, and I almost miss it because of the blood beating loudly in my ears. “But I’m not going to allow that to keep me away from you. I’ve said it before…and I’ll say it again…you fuck me over, that’ll be it.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

I feel his lips hoist into a pompous smirk. “I know you’re not.” He reaches for my face and runs the pad of his thumb beneath my chin. “And that’s what scares me. You’re not afraid of anyone. You fucking shot me and I let that go. I’d never permit that shit to fly if you were anyone else.”

“You deserved it,” I mutter, to which he leans in and puts his ear next to my lips.

“What did you say?”

“I said you deserved it,” I reiterate in his good ear. “Asshole.”

Torin steals another quick kiss before moving us toward the door, settling me down on my feet before I can bitch at him some more.

Inside, the girls dig through the plastic bag of candy, the TV on some random channel as the music on my Bluetooth speaker still blares. This feels somewhat normal.

“You girls hungry?” Torin asks them, squeezing me closer to him, as if silently telling me everything is going to be fine and he’s going to take care of everything.

“Bay bought pizza,” Ellie says with a full-size Snickers bar in her hand. “Are you going to stay?”

I want to say no, that he’s not, I do. But I need the human comfort. I’m sick with worry about Dad. I’m terrified at how I’m going to pay for another set of hospital bills this go around. Levi has a major drug run coming up just for this issue alone.

We’re gonna move a truck full of meth—shit we never dabble in— into one of the ships on South Shore’s docks.

It’s dangerous.

It’s stupid.

I’m fucked if I can’t pay Dad’s bills that the insurance won’t pay for. I’m screwed if I can’t put food on the table.

I need to quit school. My scholarship is up this year, and after that, I’m on my own. I have a few papers coming in the next few weeks to help me gain more funds, but it’s not guaranteed. And I can’t waste my time on loans.

“What do you got cookin’ up in that pretty head, Wildfire?” Torin’s question sounds closer to my ear, and it’s then that I notice I’ve zoned out.

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