Page 453 of Rage

That meant Ferguson knows.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her green eyes flash. Shame. Embarrassment. Everything she hides behind her tough girl exterior shines there, if only anyone looked long enough to see.

“Everyone knew,” she whispers, broken. “No one cared. I thought you knew and just?—”

“Didn’t care?” I pinch her chin, making her look at me as I say the next part. I need her to understand. “No, Maeve. I didn’t know. If I did, his head would have been cut off and nailed to the frontfuckingdoor for ever daring to touchyou.”

I watch as she glances back at the body, shoulders sagging. “Do you think I'm a monster?” In my silence, she turns back. “After what he did to me, what I did to him... I feel broken.”

I wrap my arms around her gently, not caring if the blood stains my clothes. Blood never scared me.

“We’re all broken, Maeve, every single one of us. But this? This doesn’t make you broken. You did exactly what you needed to do to take back your power. You avenged yourself. Yousavedyourself. And you’re fucking magnificent.”

She’s a force of nature, a fury sent to destroy those who would hurt women. This isn’t revenge, it’s justice.

Tenderly, I brush my nose to hers. I need to comfort her even if it’s a small touch of skin.

She shakes her head. “No.” Watery eyes blink at me. “No, don’t be gentle with me.”

A pained laugh leaves my lips. “Trust me, Princess, I would like nothing more than to fuck you until you forgot everything, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Not after years of abuse. Not after killing her abuser. Not afterthis.

Fuck, Ferguson will notice his second-hand being gone. I’ll have to clean this up.

Fisting my shirt in her small, deadly hands, she glares at me darkly.

“You said I’m not broken, so don’t treat me like I am.” She presses her entire body against mine, and I groan. She feels good like this—thick curves, fuckable breasts, strong legs. “Please, Killian. Make me forget. Replace his hands with yours.”

I wanted to help her forget all the hurt he caused, all the ways he used sex to control her, twisting something meant to be good and pleasurable into something dark and painful.

She wants me to replace those memories withus.

My heart pounds loudly in my ears. This is everything I’ve ever wanted.

Grabbing her throat, I hold her with enough pressure to stutter her breath.

“I need a safe word, Maeve.” Before I go too hard and hurt her. I’ll never forgive myself if I do. “When you say it, this stops. Everything stops.”

She nods, watching me under thick eyelashes. “Mors.”

Latin for death, the word inked onto my knuckles holding her tight.

The grin I give her would make a nun sin.

“Against the wall, Princess. Let me see those pretty panties so I can take them off with my teeth.”

Chapter Eight

Maeve

Istumble against the wall, my abuser’s dead body bleeding to my left as Killian kneels in a puddle of blood in front of me. My leather mini skirt is pulled high, twisted into my fists.

He is a sight, death willing to submit for me.

“Right here?” I ask, eyes wide. I’m literally covered in another man’s blood, his corpse next to us.

“Can’t think of a better place.” He runs his hands over my legs, nails raking over my skin as he pulls the fishnets lower. They pool at my feet, and he carefully takes them off.

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