Page 56 of Burn With Me

“Make sure she can handle the pain of being with you before you throw her in the fire,” Shep continues. “Because I can’t help but feel like I’ll be picking up your pieces if she cracks under the pressure. You can’t be with a weak-hearted girl.”

Aurora is anything but weak-hearted, but I also can’t say that the idea of pressing her more—of seeing what shape she molds into—doesn’t appeal to me. I lick my lips as an idea pops into my head.

“Are you and Paris still going to the shop this weekend?” I ask.

Shep arches a brow. “You want to bring her?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Shit, man. She’s not the kind of girl you bring there. Plus, Paris is in a fucking mood—you know how he gets. Any time he throws those little parties, it’s because he had a fight with his family. Besides, you never come.”

“I’ve come before,” I argue.

“Yeah, but you don’t get pierced,” he reminds me. “You just come by for some of the weed and drinks.”

I shrug. “She should be introduced to our world sooner or later.”

Shep groans. “Nah, she might be a socialite princess, but she ain’t like us.”

“She will be.” Because I have no intention of letting her go.

He blinks. “Are you…” His brows draw down low over his eyes as he drifts off, staring at me with an expression full of disbelief. “You’re not actually thinking about keeping her, are you?”

I roll my shoulders back. “Maybe I am.” Maybe that’s the only choice I’ve got left. “I can’t see this obsession going away any time soon.”

“Then make it,” he snaps. “She’s a liability. Fuck, man, she’s yourstepsister.”

“I don’t need to be reminded,” I grit out. “But that’s not forever. Her mother and my father won’t last. They will divorce—the second he has what he wants from Emilia Summers, she’ll be gone.” Hopefully, it’ll be by way of papers and prenup rather than death.

Shep continues to stare at me, his lips parted in shock. “No.” He shakes his head. “No.Fuck no. You can’t be serious.”

I am serious, though. As serious as a heart attack. There’s no explanation for why I feel the way that I do. Only that the thought of letting Aurora get away makes my chest ache something fierce. There are so many reasons not to get involved with her. My father and the precarious position I’m in between him and the Feds is only the tip of the iceberg, butfuck.Can’t I just have something for me? One piece of sunlight in this otherwise shitty fucking world?

“You’re right,” I say. Shep glares at me, knowing I’m not about to switch shit up and tell him I’ll stay away from her. That’s not gonna happen. Not now. Not after everything. “I need to know if she can handle our world.” If she can handle me.

“First of all”—he holds up a finger—“that isnotwhat I said. Secondly”—his fingers separate as a second one joins the first. “That’s different and you know it.”

“I’ll be the one to decide that.”

Shep throws his hands up and swivels back to his laptop. “Fine, do whatever you want. Yeah, we’re going to the shop on Friday. Paris will have his usual posse of girls.”

I lean against the doorframe, liking this idea more and more. “And you?”

He shoots me a dark glare over his shoulder. “Don’t fucking ask if you already know the answer,” he growls my way.

I back up out of the doorway, lifting my palms in surrender. “Cool your jets, Shep,” I tease. “Just making sure you’re both there when I bring my girl.”

“You’re fucking crazy, asshole,” he replies without heat.

He’s probably right. Iamcrazy. But that was Aurora’s mistake. She fucked me even knowing that I could break her apart. She kissed me first. She leashed me to her side and now, I want to leave my own mark on her. Now, there’s no getting away.

26

RORI

The weekend passes and Monday comes and goes, lulling me into a false sense of security when I don’t hear anything from Isaac Icari. Maybe he hadn’t really meant his words. Maybe they’d just been spoken in the heat of the moment, on the cusp of orgasm. Guys say stupid shit when they’re horny like that. It wasn’t like he’d professed his love for me—I honestly don’t know what I would have done if he had—but it had felt a little deeper than two people smashing uglies. Especially when he’d demanded me to tell him who I belonged to.

I belong to myself. Not him.

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