Page 101 of The Oath We Give

I’m overflowing with unshed rage that has nowhere to go. I can’t be the patient, kind man I’d been to Coraline the day her apartment was broken into.

Not with all the noise consuming me. All the guilt chewing me up from the inside. There’s no one to blame for this except me. Coraline is reliving the worst experience of her life because I’d convinced her that marrying me was the right move. Alistair is deteriorating slowly with the weight of being in this town and having his parents breathing down his neck.

All of this to say, if I hadn’t let Rosemary Donahue walk home alone from the library after that fight, none of us would even be in this position to begin with.

My selfishness has caused that argument. My selfishness has put all of these people I care about in the path of a narcissistic piece of shit who won’t stop until he’s no longer breathing.

I’ve given us no choice.

It’s kill him or let him keep killing us.

More blood on my hands, regardless of who does the killing.

I flick my eyes toward my office door, listening to it creak open. Dark hair spills over Coraline’s shoulder as she peeks her head through the crack in the door.

I’d made the guys stay here today while the movers got Lilac and Coraline’s stuff inside and had asked the girls to come by to help Coraline unpack her things.

It’d been the perfect distraction, keeping everyone busy so she wouldn’t notice my absence, wouldn’t question my behavior, and by the time she woke up in the morning, all would be back to our version of normal.

At least, that had been the plan.

She slips her bare feet inside, pressing her back against the door, making it click closed. I chase the lines of her exposed legs, miles of smooth, tan skin begging for fingers to touch them.

My cock twitches behind my jeans. I’m hanging by a thread tonight, and her being in here, dressing in a slouchy T-shirt and skimpy-ass shorts, isn’t helping.

It’s only making my blood burn hotter. Tempting me to do something she’ll regret in the daylight hours.

“These are my paintings,” Coraline speaks into the silence. I follow her gaze around my office, her artwork I’d purchased at the gala hung along the slate gray walls.

All twelve of them.

“Rich asshole who paid double.” I tilt my glass in mock cheers. “Nice to meet you.”

Even in the shadows of this room, I can see her cheeks turn red, nerves eating her up as she rocks back and forth on her heels.

“Why’d you buy all of them? For Light?”

“They felt too private to be in any house besides mine. It was like they already belonged to me.”

Our eyes catch, locking together. The air between us thickens with electricity. She’s quiet for a moment, studying my face like she’s trying to gather the courage to say something.

“Where have you been?”

I arch an eyebrow. “Playing the nagging wife already?”

“Is it true?” she demands, not a hint of question in her tone.

My fingers tighten on the glass in my hand as I lean back in my chair, peering at her over my desk. She’s smart keeping her distance, bracing herself against the door so she can flee at any moment.

The longer she stands there, the less resistance I have against the idea of seeing just how pretty that witchy mouth of hers is stretched and swollen around my dick. I want to use her tight fucking body as an outlet for this rage. Fuck all the guilt away.

“Be more specific, Coraline. You want to know something, be a big girl and ask me.”

Her eyes slit just as she lifts her chin, glaring at me before crossing her arms in front of her chest, like that will somehow protect her from me.

“Did you kill the man who helped destroy my apartment tonight?”

The sound of his windpipe cracking beneath my boot echoes in my ears.

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