Page 27 of Demise

“Happy birthday to me,” Asher drawls sarcastically. “What about Skyla and my wedding? Has he said anything about that?”

“Why? You want to rub it in our faces?” I sneer.

Asher turns to look at me. “Only a lot.”

“Jesus, you guys fucking hate each other. How do you make it work?” Wesley mutters.

We all stay silent for several seconds before Liam speaks.

“Skyla is like a force. I’m pretty sure she could cure world hunger if she put her mind to it.”

Surprisingly, everyone in the room lets out some variation of a laugh as we nod in agreement.

“No, Asher,” Ronan says, redirecting the conversation. “He hasn’t said anything about the wedding. Honestly, I don’t think he’s worried about it right now.”

“Why not?” Asher asks.

Ronan pauses for a moment before he shakes his head.

“I don’t know.”

Well, that doesn’t sound good. Though, when is there anything ever good about a fucking Putnam. My eyes burn into the side of Asher’s head, flashes of that night flickering on repeat in my head. The night Asher killed Nate is a night that I’ll never escape, no matter how hard I try. The fucked up part is that I bet anything Asher doesn’t even realize he’s responsible, doesn’t even understand how much blood is on his hands. Or maybe he does and doesn’t care.

My blood begins to boil, hatred gnawing at every fiber of my body. It would be all too easy to reach inside my boot, grabmy knife and stab the piece of fucking shit in the neck. I know I can’t, though, and the reason I can’t is the beautiful siren upstairs.

Goddamnit. Fuck this.

I jump to my feet, storming up the stairs without a care as to how loud my boots sound through the house against the echoing floor. When I reach the bedroom door, I practically kick it down. Maggie is laying sideways at the foot of the bed while Skyla is sitting crisscrossed. They are speaking earnestly about something when I storm in.

“Vincent, is everything oka—”

“Bartlett, you have exactly five seconds to get out of here,” I say.

“Why, are you guys gonna fuck? I’m staying if you are. Just because I prefer women doesn’t mean I don’t want to watch a hot straight couple fuck.”

“Five,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Four.” She raises a challenging eyebrow that has my building anger practically blinding, and Skyla must sense it.

“Give us a minute,” she says softly.

Maggie huffs out an exaggerated sigh but pushes off the bed, stepping out of the room as I shrug off my leather jacket.

“What’s going on?” Skyla asks gently, that soft lilt already doing something to me.

It’s not enough. I’m fucking furious, and only one thing will settle me down.

“I need you, now,” I say quickly as I pull my cock out of my pants.

She blinks once before she’s pulling down her leggings. I push into her without a second’s hesitation, a feral growl leaving me as I do.

“Shit,” she hisses as I roll my hips hard, picking up a punishing pace in the next moment.

“What’s going on?” she groans.

“Nothing,” I say, blinking hard in an attempt to clear the rage that is currently clouding my vision.

“You’re so mad, babe. You’re shaking,” she says gently.

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