Page 2 of Vengeful Rotten Casualties

Luc rubs his hand up and down along my spine, spreading warmth from him to me. I squeeze him closer, tighter. I know I’m being clingy, but it’s hard not to be. Who else do I have?

“Miss Michaels?” Both Luc and I freeze at the sound of that voice. Vomit threatens to come pouring up my throat. The last time he came, he’d brought with him horrible news, and now, though it’s not necessarily his fault, I associate Ken Carpenter with dread.

Luc’s hand drops away from my back as I turn and face the man who ruined my life a week ago. He nods his head respectfully at Luc before turning his gaze to me. Like everyone else in attendance—all four of us, including the groundskeeper, the priest, Luc, and myself—he’s dressed all in black.

“Mr. Kincaid would like to have a word with you,” Mr. Carpenter states.

My insides churn. “Why isn’t he here?” The question comes pouring out before I can think better of it.

Ken Carpenter doesn’t react. He merely remains silent, a sign that even if he knows the answer, he isn’t comfortable saying it. I wonder if his face ever shows positive emotion. I’ve never seen the man smile, not a real smile. I release a sigh and completely step away from Luc.

“Micki—” Luc reaches out and touches my arm, reaching down and lacing my fingers with his. “I’ll go with you.”

“I’m sorry, Master Luc,” Mr. Carpenter says, “but Mr. Kincaid would like to have a word with Miss Michaels in private.” Luc’s hand tightens on mine. Discomfort filters through my limbs—not at his touch but at Ken Carpenter’s words. “He doesn’t like to be kept waiting, Miss Michaels,” Mr. Carpenter presses.

Of course he doesn’t. “I can drive her,” Luc says. “I don’t have to be in the room for their meeting if he doesn’t want to see me.”

Ken shakes his head. “I’m afraid not, Master Luc. Mr. Kincaid was quite specific. He expects you to return home and for me to escort Miss Michaels to his office.”

I press my lips together, but there is really nothing we can do.

“Micki, if you—”

“It’s fine,” I say, cutting Luc off as I turn and carefully take his wrist in my free hand. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

Luc’s crystal blue eyes bore into me, his brows pinched down. He’s searching for something—anything—to say and he’s coming up empty. Even I can see that. Neither of us has any right to refuse his father. We’ve been expecting this for the last week. It’s clear what Thomas Kincaid wants to do. He wants to ensure that I won’t be a problem. I don’t know his exact plans, but it’s clear that Luc and I being together is not one of them, and considering how Luc has behaved for the last week, there’s really no use in hiding how much we mean to each other.

Ken Carpenter has already reported it all. Of that, I have no doubt.

Internally, I curse my short-sightedness. I shouldn’t have collapsed. I shouldn’t have turned to Luc. I shouldn’t have let any of this happen. But what’s done is done and it’s too late to take it all back now.

Maybe that’s why I do it. The second Luc lets his hand fall away from me, I reach up and clasp his face in my palms. If this is the last time I’ll see him—because we both know that my promise to see him back at the house is tenuous at best—then I want him to remember me.

I press my lips to his, taking his mouth in a way I never have before. He’s always been the aggressor. He’s the one who kissed me first, touched me first, and yet, he’s also always been the one to back off first as well. I don’t let him now. I won’t.

If this is it for us—if I go see his father only to be sent away—then I’m going to imprint myself on Luc Kincaid. I dive into his mouth with my tongue, holding his head as I tilt mine and drive into him. A groan rumbles up his chest and his arms close back around me, hands locking on my hips as he drives forward, letting me feel just how much he wants me.

It’s probably disrespectful—sucking face right in front of my mother’s fresh grave—but she’s already gone and Luc is my last living tether to this world. I want him to know just how much that means to me. When everything else falls away, he makes me feelalive.

The lust I feel for him is undeniable; it’s uncontrollable. How I manage to stop at just a kiss, I’ll never know, but when I do pull back, dropping back onto my feet when I didn’t even realize I’d gone to my tiptoes to keep our lips fused and connected, I know it’s over. His eyes are hard and his hands refuse to release me.

“What the fuck was that, Micki?” His words are cruel, angry.

“I have to go now,” I tell him, pulling his hands off of my sides. A dark cloud hovers over the cemetery while an entirely different kind crosses over his face as he stares at me. I have no answer to give him and that pisses him off. For that, I’m sorry, but I don’t regret what I’ve done. I turn away from him.

“I’m ready, Mr. Carpenter,” I say.

Ken Carpenter nods and then turns to walk up the pathway that leads back to the parking grounds. “Micki!” Luc calls after me as I follow Thomas Kincaid’s personal secretary, but I don’t turn around. Not yet.

The need to look back is alive under my skin. It manipulates me and even knowing that it’s all because of my stupid emotions, I can’t deny it. I turn my head. My hair falls over the side of my face as I glance back.

The image of Luc, standing there, all alone, hits me like a shit ton of bricks. My resolve wavers. I clench my hands into fists, digging my nails into the soft, vulnerable flesh of my palms. I breathe through my nose as tears threaten to burn through my eyes. My heart breaks all over again, and I regret the choice.

I was stupid. I should’ve never looked back. Quickly, I turn around and keep my eyes trained forward, putting one foot in front of the other until I’m too far away. Farther than I’ve ever wanted to be from my best friend.

From Luc Kincaid.

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