Page 26 of Poisonous Savage

Iwatched her face light up likeI'dset the goddamn sun in front of her.Thebeach, a stretch of sand and water that got a grin outtaRosalindIhadn't seen sinceIsnatched her from that pansy-ass life she led before me.Shetalked about lakes withMarco, soIbrought her to the ocean—bigger, deeper, just like the shitIplanned for us.

"Surprise,"Igrunted, the word tasting like a foreign language on my tongue.Shockflickered in her dark eyes, all wide and innocent, but underneath, something else was sparking.Mayberespect?Didn'tmatter;Iwas aiming for more than that.

Herlaughter echoed against the waves as we hit the water.Shesplashed like she didn't have a care, like the world outside our bubble didn't exist.Fora minute,Iplayedalong, tossing water back at her, letting it wash away my hesitation.

ThenIcaught her waist and yanked her close until her legs clung to my hips.Herskin against mine was seeking, all soft and warm.Hereyes searched mine—those deep pools trying to see past the monster to whatever shred of man was left in me.

"Areyou mad aboutMarco?" she asked, her voice steady even as her body trembled against me.

"Mad?Shit, doll,I'ma lot of things."Mygrip tightened. "ButIain't simple enough to be just one thing."

Shewaited for more, for some sign thatIcould be the prince she never had.Butfuck, allIhad was anger wrapped around a heart too tough to break.

"Trying,Rosalind.That'sallIgot,"Iconfessed, raw and uncut.Therewas no happiness here, just the brutal truth thatIwasHades, and she was myPersephone.Icarried her out of the water and set her on the blanket, searching for something to say.Anythingto make her fucking love me.AllIever wanted was for someone to fucking love me.

Thesun bled out over the horizon, its dying light throwing shadows across the beach.Isat there, a fucking statue, watching it withRosalindat my side.Herhand rested lightly on my thigh, her fingers playing and twisting my hair.Hereyes were bright as they tracked the fading day.

"Nice, ain't it?"Igrunted, eyes never leaving the blood-orange sky.Thewater lapped at the shore, like whispers of all the shitI'ddone, all the livesI'dended.Itshould've been soothing, but it just reminded me that peace was a foreign fucking concept.

"Beautiful," she murmured, her voice like some angel that had no right to work on me, but it did. "Hunter, canIask you something?"Herhead tilted up to mine, those dark eyes searching for somethingIwasn't sureIcould give.

"Shoot."Mywords were clipped, hands digging into the sand, a part of me ready to bolt.Talkingwasn't my thing unless it was barking orders or spitting threats.

"Yourchildhood... what was it like?"Sheventured into territory that had barbed wire all around it, and my gut twisted.

"Shit,Rosalind, you don't wanna know."Iglanced at her, saw the softness in her face, the genuine fucking concern.Itgrated against the wallsI'dbuilt.

"MaybeIdo.MaybeIwant to understand you,Hunter.Allof you."Herfingers brushed against my arm, tentative, like she was handling something lethal.Shewasn't wrong.

"Understandme?"Iscoffed, turning my gaze back to the water. "Ain'tnothing to understand.Grewup tough, had to be tougher.Theworld's a bitch, and then youdie."

"Butthere's more to you.Isee it, even when you don't.Even... even when you hurt me."Herhand stayed on my arm, warmth seeping through my skin.

"More?Yeah, more darkness, more blood on my hands."Abitter laugh escaped me, andIshook my head. "You'relooking for something that ain't there, doll."

"Everyonehas something worth seeing,Hunter.Evenyou."Herinsistence was a fucking thorn in my side, poking at something deep inside that wanted to break free, butIcouldn't let it.Notwithout risking everything.

"Fine.Youwant the truth?"Iturned to her fully, the harsh lines of my face catching the last rays of sunlight. "Igrew up with fists instead of words, pain instead of comfort.That'sthe man you're sitting with.Don'ttry to paint it pretty."

Sheswallowed hard, her gaze unwavering. "Iwant to know more.Iknow it's not easy."

"Easy?"Isnorted. "Nothingabout this is easy.You'reliving in a world of monsters, sweetheart, andI'mthe worst of 'em all."

Butshe just looked at me, like she saw past the layers of shit to something else.SomethingIdidn't even fucking recognize.

"Maybe," she whispered, "but you're mymonster."

Therewas a flicker of something in her eyes, a flame that refused to be snuffed out by the darkness surrounding us.Itwas enough to make me want to believe, even for a moment, that we could exist in the same space without destroying each other.

"Yourmonster,"Irepeated, the words rolling off my tongue like a promise, a fucking vow thatI'dtear the world apart beforeIlet it touch her.

Ipicked at the sand, grains sticking to my calloused fingers. "Oldman thought he was making a soldier,"Igrunted, the words like glass in my throat. "Fuckerjabbed needles into me, poison straight into the veins."Ishowed her the faded marks, a roadmap of survival etched into my skin.I'dcovered them all with tattoos, but you could see the scars from whereItried to pull them out, the burning itching underneath my skin.

"Immunity,"Ispat out. "Thentaught me how to turn that shit lethal.Forothers."

Rosalindreached out, tracing the scars with a gentleness that made my insides twist.Hertouch didn't belong on my tainted flesh.Butfuck ifIdidn't crave it like a drowning man gasping for air.

"Dayswithout food, locked in darkness,"Icleared my throat, trying to stave away the sudden rush of emotion. "Saidit'd make me a man."Thehunger pangs from backthen clawed at my gut, ghosts of a past never buried deep enough.

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