Page 191 of Brutal Prince

Indi

Iwondered briefly what we would dance to once Marcus had me against him. But then he started humming and it all made sense.

At first, I kept stumbling. Then weakly apologizing when he growled at me. Soon, he realized that the best dance partners don’t have knots around their ankles. So he got rid of those.

Now we’re sweeping around the ruins of my living room, his hand at the small of my back, and my cheek on his chest as he leads me through a surprisingly good waltz.

Maybe he had lessons when he was young. You know, in-between torturing animals, setting fires, and wetting his bed?

But I jest. This shit’s fucking serious as hell, and I only wish I could form some kind of plan that didn’t involve a random meteorite crashing into the house.

Even now, dancing a crazy waltz through the remnants of my home, I can feel how strong he is. How the muscles along his spine bunch as he moves. How tightly he grasps my hand. The sure-footedness of every step he takes.

Bet you wish you had your switchblade now, don’t ya?

Oh, you bet I do!

Then again, I wish for many things right now. Like enough backbone to attempt to seduce him. I could do that. But every time I look up and see that vacant, dreamy look in his eyes, everything inside me shrivels up.

Then all I can do is gently rest my head on his chest and wish myself the fuck away from this place.

But dear God, it’s not a fuck working.

It’s not working.

* * *

Briar

I slamon the brakes when the signpost for Indi’s road comes into view. The car behind me streams past blaring its horn, and the driver even throws me a zap through his passenger-side window.

No fucks given.

I put my Mustang into gear, and cruise around the corner. My GPS tells me I’m a minute away from my destination before I turn her off with a stab of my thumb.

I got this, Siri.

I fucking got this.

I’d wished more than anything that I’d taken the gun from that safe.

Why the fuck didn’t I?

Oh, right. Back then, I was still under the impression it was Addy blackmailing me.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this naive in my fucking life. This…duped.

My best friend and I didn’t have a fucking clue. Is it because he was the only one that was ever there for me? The only one who ever insisted on protecting me, even when I didn’t need it?

Doesn’t matter, of course. What’s done is done. I can’t change the past, I can only affect change in the present.

And presently, I need Marcus’s head on a fucking spike.

* * *

Indi

I hearfootsteps the same time Marcus does. We both turn to the side. Briar’s standing on the threshold of what used to be the entrance hall of my house.

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