Page 70 of Bully

“Jesus.” Sloane murmured, glancing back down at the man. “I thought shooting you made me mad enough to want him dead. But this—” she swallowed, “on top of that, makes it even worse.”

“You don’t have to watch this part.” I nodded to the bag I’d abandoned when they arrived with their fantastic entrance.

“I want to.” She took a deep breath and backed up, giving me space. “I feel like for the girls that don’t get to see their justice being served, I need to watch for them.”

Peyton took her hand in hers, squeezing it as they moved off to sit on the steps as Liv piped up, “If you’re not going to do it, can I?”

Maddox chuckled and pulled her back toward the stairs, “Let the man have his own trophy.”

“What?” She shrugged, “I’m just saying, he’s dragging his feet a bit.”

I turned back to my victim as Dane stood at my side and suddenly the need to draw it out and make it personal no longer consumed me. I just wanted to make itright. But I was also a maniac with a blood thirst that had gone unquenched for too long lately, so I settled on a quick slit of his throat.

He thrashed, and gurgled, and gasped, until he simply didn’t exist anymore. No longer able to hurt anyone or profit from their pain.

And my vendetta for the bullet Sloane had to dig out of my shoulder was settled.

“So,” Maddox asked after a while as we all walked back through the woods towards my car, “Wanna hit up IHOP?”

“Jesus, that sounds delicious.” Peyton moaned and Dane chuckled.

“You three stooges going to change first, or are you going there like that?” I asked, nodding down at their ridiculous outfits. I was pretty sure Liv had black tube socks on in place of actual shoes.

Sloane scoffed and smacked my chest, “We were aiming for Charlie’s Angels. And you’ll take us out, however we look, got it?”

I kissed her.

Easily.

Uncaring of the others staring.

Their opinions on it did not matter to me. I just wanted to kiss her.

“Got it.”

Chapter 28 – Sloane

Irolledover,stretchingmyarms out above my head and groaning at how good it felt. There was simply nothing better than that feeling of a first stretch in the morning after a wonderful night’s sleep.

Well, maybe there was something better.

Many things, actually.

Things that all came from Tamen’s expert body and mind. God, the things that filthy man could think up to do to me. And say! Oof, the man’s dirty talk game in that pert British accent, made me quake.

Prism had opened a month ago, and we both had been working non-stop every day, figuring out the new business kinks and hiccups, leaving us only very limited time together in between my obnoxious need for beauty sleep, and his awkward inability to lie in bed past eight am. Morning people were so weird.

My phone buzzed next to me and I grinned, feeling stupidly giddy the way I did most mornings when I woke up to some sort of good morning text.

These were not cutesy or romantic texts. These were texts from the mysterious man who always evaded daylight like a vampire.

Tamen didn’t do romantic things; at least not in a conventional way.

Swiping my phone open I read his words and snorted to myself at how far out of touch he was.

I heard you were talking shit about me.

I rolled my eyes and typed back a witty response.

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