Page 100 of Bleed for Me

I didn’t need to tell Rosalie twice. She was already spinning on her heels, booking it toward the exit.

Archer’s blue eyes had darkened nearly to black, his jaw thrumming violently with tension. He stared at me for a few beats before turning and striding toward the door. Seven waited a few moments longer and followed after him, leaving me alone at last.

I ran a hand through my hair. Rosalie wasn’t worth this shit. I figured Archer wouldn’t care since he had no issue pimping her out to Seven in the first place, but clearly, I’d miscalculated.

Art was the only thing keeping my mind at ease. It helped dull the voices, leaving me with almost a serene feeling. The pencil glided across the page in effortless strokes—the image slowly coming together. I didn’t even know what I was drawing at first, just that I needed to sketchsomething.

Long hair fell around sharp shoulders as the woman lay on her stomach, glancing over her shoulder with a devilish gleam in her eyes. A bed of roses surrounded her, intertwined with daisies. The woman was completely bare, her round ass in perfect view within the sketch.

My throat constricted, followed by a current of confusion slamming into me. Out of anything I could have drawn, it had to beher. I swallowed thickly, ripping my gaze away from the image. I’d been working on it over the course of a few days, but it hadn’t made sense to me until this very moment.

I glanced up, eyeing the girl across the room. She was focused on her own piece, her fingers gliding across a piece of parchment set out before her. Oddly enough, she seemed to be more in her element than I was. Was she an artist, too? Did she escape this twisted world by making a new reality that only she could access?

Fuck

Why did I even care?

My jaw tightened in frustration. It didn’t matter. Regardless of how pretty Rosalie Swanson was, I was cursed. Attempting to pursue something with her would only end in her death. It was inevitable.

I closed my sketchbook, not wanting anyone to catch a glimpse of it. I’d flush it as soon as I got back to my room.

TWENTY-SEVEN

ROSALIE

Ifelt free. For the first time in—I didn’t even know how long—it felt like I could breathe again. The cabins were absolutely breathtaking, surrounded by acres and acres of land and trees. Pastor Valentine rambled off a shit ton of orders before we loaded the bus, and even if I wasn’t feeling all that religious these days, it was nice to get away.

Valentine didn’t even look like a pastor today. He stood before us, dressed in a pair of black joggers paired with a dark blue T-shirt. A bag was tossed over one shoulder, his hair messier than usual. He was absolutely stunning standing there.

“The rules are simple. There is one cabin for the women, and one for the men.” He motioned to the two cabins positioned on either side of the clearing. “Further back is my cabin. Don’t disturb me unless it’s important.” He readjusted his bag over his shoulder before continuing. “I’m going to leave you all to get settled. I expect you all dressed in hiking gear. Wear your swimsuits underneath.” His gaze found mine, forcing my breath to stutter in my throat. We hadn’t seen much of each other sincehe got drunk and things nearly escalated. “Rosalie, if you’ll come with me.”

Chatter broke out around me, followed by excited squeals from some of the girls. None of them paid me any mind, opting to head toward their selected cabins instead. The only people I knew here were Archer, Tyler, and Valentine, and I was trying to keep my distance from Archer and Tyler for obvious reasons.

Rolling my shoulders back, I started toward our pastor, falling into step beside him. He was silent as we walked, the tension stretching between us like a weighted blanket. Part of me wanted to clear the air, but the other part of me didn’t want to risk embarrassing myself further. There was a high chance he didn’t even remember it happening.

Once we reached his cabin, he unlocked the door and held it open for me. My lips parted in awe as I took it in. The floors were made of wood—as expected—and there was a large, leather couch centered within the living room. A fireplace sat adjacent to it, and even though the place was mostly bare, it was still nice.

“I didn’t want to give these to you in front of everyone,” he said, closing the door behind him and flicking on the light—not that it made much of a difference since it was still so bright out.

I turned to face him, a question forming on the tip of my tongue, but it died instantly when I glanced at the backpack hanging from his fingertips.

“What is that?”

“Clothes,” he replied. “I’m sorry it took me so long, but…”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. Thank you.” I reached for the bag, my fingers brushing against his unintentionally. My breath caught in my throat as a surge of electricity spiraled through my veins.

Pastor Valentine jerked his arm back like he’d been burned but upheld a stoic expression.

“Thanks,” I said again, more awkwardly this time. I moved to step around him, and he turned his body to let me pass.

My heart was beating rapidly as I navigated the way back to my assigned cabin. He was off-limits, but my body wasn’t getting the memo. I’d already been with Seven, Archer, and now, Jordan, but my traitorous pussy wanted to add Pastor Valentine to the list, too.

He wants it.

Fuck him bloody.

Imagine what his intestines look like, spilling from his body.

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