Page 113 of Runaways

"I don't know about innocent; I don't care about that. But no matter what you think you practically told Noah, you told her something different when she left."

In his head, it wasn't a big deal; it was preservation—for all of us. But heknowsNoah. He says he understands her, so he has to understand how it hurt her. Maybe he's just been through so much that he thinks if it's not killing you, it can't be that bad.

But he tried to kill her, too.

"Yeah? What'd you tell her when you killed her mom?"

"You told her you wouldn't hurt her. I never told her Iwouldn'tkill her mom."

Tate scoffs.

"If you don't want to be the bad guy in her story, then don't be the fucking bad guy."

"I never said I didn't want to be the bad guy. I love being the fucking bad guy; Irelishit. And she knew that. Shealwaysknew who I was—it's not fair for her to suddenly reject me just for staying true to character."

I shrug. "You break character for me."

I lean in and kiss him on the lips, lingering there for a second until he parts his own enough for me to slip my tongue past his. But as soon as I can taste him, before I can wrap my arm around him and deepen the kiss, he pulls away.

"You taste like traitor pussy," he snaps.

Tate snatches the keys from the dash and climbs out of the car. I take a moment to laugh and wipe the smile off my fucking face before following him around the back of the vehicle.

"Tate…"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he says as he unlocks the trunk. "What are we going to do with all of these? There isn't much room left under the upholstery."

"I know that. We'll have to put the smaller ones inside the door panels. I'll need some tools, but I can do it. I'll break into the body shop after they close, get what I need, and put it back before they open in the morning."

Wouldn't want them to report anything missing. I doubt things like that happen often in a place like this, and I'm sure Noah's ex would be pretty quick to point the police toward her sketchy friends from out of town.

We picked a good time to be criminals, though. You can find instructions on how to do almost anything on the internet. Picking locks and breaking into safes, hacking phones and cameras, making money disappear without a trace. That's how we learned how to make fake IDs, too. Tearing the interior of this car apart and putting it back together shouldn't be that difficult. I've always believed a determined person can learn anything.

"Good. I'll fuck the place up while we're at it. And if that blonde fucking asshole is there, I'll slice him open and hang him from the fucking car lift."

Yeah, I know he will. Which is exactly why he isn't fucking coming with me.

"You can't go."

"What? I'm kidding."

"No, you're not—you're not kidding. And we need to be stealthy; you're far too reactive, and you'vejokedabout killing this guy at least three times a day since we got here."

The truth is Tate wouldn't last long without someone like me or Noah taking care of him. Surely, he knows that, too.

"You're no fun," he pouts. "Guess I'll just kill Noah instead."

My eyes darken.

"Didn't like that one, huh?" Tate smirks before reaching for the top of the trunk to push it closed, but I stop him, closing a hand around his wrist. I pull his arm behind his back and move behind him, pressing my body against his.

"No, I didn't," I growl. "Tell me something, Tate—if you hate Noah so much, then why could I see your dick hard against your leg when she was crawling around the house earlier?"

"I'm always hard. You know that."

He isn't wrong. Tateisalmost always hard, always horny. Most mornings, I wake up to his lips wrapped around my dick, sucking on it like I'm his favorite fucking pacifier, and I could let him and that tongue ring suck me dry all day. With my free hand, I unbutton his pants and take out his cock under the cover of the open trunk. Sure enough, it's hard as fuck.

He groans as I stroke it in my hand, twisting his arm tighter behind his back.

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