Page 65 of Demise

I looked over at Trig impassively. He returned my gaze.

“I’m going to ask this one time,” I said. “Did you have anything to do with what happened to Bexley and me?”

“No,” he replied.

“Anything to do with Samuel’s death?”

“No.”

“I swear on my Pops’ grave if you’re lying to me, you’ll suffer, Trig.”

“No need to swear, Bones. I didn’t have anything to do with any of that. I thought I proved it already. Nugget did. Nugget and Miles.”

I searched his eyes for a lie. Either it wasn’t there or he wasthatgood at lying. I decided to believe him and move on from it. Two people were murdered, and those two people were the ones condemned in my eyes.

It was done.

As for Trig killing Nugget, well fuck, that was one less sin on my hands, I guess. The bastard’s with the worms now. Nothing I can do about it.

I walk over to my woman and crawl onto the bed, pressing my lips on her spine, making my way up to her neck. I kiss her earlobe and brush her hair away from her face.

She smiles. “How drunk was I last night?”

“Not too bad.” I grin against the skin on her neck.

“I need a shower,” she says.

She moves onto her back and looks down at her naked breasts, as do I. She covers her chest.

I grab the sheet and pull it off, climbing over her body. I look at her sleepy face and pouty lips. God, she looks sexy like this. The room is low-lit, but I can see her well enough. I grab her nipple, rolling it between my fingers. I want to feel her. I want the warmth of her mouth on my cock, the smoothness of her tongue running against my shaft.

“Suck me,” I tell her, my voice filled with need.

I watch as her teeth sink into her lip. I unzip my slacks and pull my cock out. She takes it in her hand, and I wince with pleasure.

“Move up,” she says.

I do, grabbing onto the bedframe with one hand and fisting her hair with the other. She kisses the tip and then looks up at me as she opens her mouth and rolls her tongue around the head.

I groan in satisfaction. Her other hand goes to my backside and she pushes me forward. I sink into her mouth with a growl. I don’t flex my hips. I stay still, letting her do the work.

And goddamn, she does. She sucks me until I’m gripping onto the wood of the bed and coming in her mouth, emptying everything inside of me.

______________

“Where are we going?” she asks as we ride in a blacked out, restored ’65 Lincoln Continental I borrowed from Grant. A classic car enthusiast, the man has a garage full. He was kind enough to let me take my pick while I’m here.

“Just up the road a little,” I tell her. She’s wearing dark jeans and a white and blue blouse. Her hair’s up today, exposing her beautiful neck.

I’m in my usual black jeans and black shirt. I pull up to the curb and kill the engine.

“Come on,” I say as I open my door.

She exits hers and I take her down an alleyway, until we reach a gray steel door. I knock three times. An elderly woman by the name of Maggie answers.

“Mr. O’Brien, how lovely to see you.” She looks to Bexley. “And who is this stunning woman?”

I go to speak, but Bexley beats me. “Bexley O’Brien,” she says.

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