Page 63 of Beyond Hate

“I don’t know.” I folded the page before I had to look at it anymore. The bold words,sins of your past, were written on the other side in handwriting I didn’t recognize, but it matched the other note London had. “But someone obviously knows what’s going on.”

“Maybe it’s just… I don’t know… a… coincidence or—”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Someone tried to hit us, someone sent your fucking ex those photos so he knew to come looking for you… someone left the note. I just don’t know who…or why. I killed Marco and Warren. The entire facility burned to the ground… unless it had something to do with Axel Fetterman and his people.” The thought was enough to make me scowl. I’dtrustedthat man and his little pipsqueak of a boyfriend enough to leave them alive when I took London. If it was coming back to bite me in the ass now…

“Who?”

“The people who burned the facility to the ground. They said I could leave with you… but… maybe they were lying.”

London shook his head. “Did you know them?”

“No.”

“DidIknow them?” I knew what he meant.

“No. I have no idea who they were.”

“Then why would they be… taunting us? Maybe it’s an employee who worked there? Do you know if everyone…” London hesitated on the word but pushed on. “Do you know if everyone died?”

I didn’t. I hadn’t bothered checking the news to see what they said about the fire, and I hadn’t really cared up until this point.

A disgruntled lab nerd made more sense than Axel Fetterman randomly taunting someone as innocent as London for the sins of his past. He seemed entirely too concerned with his boyfriend to care.

The logic in London’s words was enough to make me sit back. “Okay… so we need to know if anyone lived through their little temper tantrum.”

London took a sip of the coffee I’d made and winced. When he stood and went to the sink to dump it out, I followed him. He wasn’t looking at me when he spoke. “Okay, what happens then?”

“Then I figure out who this is and I’m going to kill them.” The burn in my chest was almost overwhelming. Apparently, the rage this body felt could be directed away from London insteadof just toward him—it could beforhim instead of because of him. It was painting the world around me in layers of crimson and tendrils of smoke that felt so thick I could touch them, could use them to build walls to protect him.

“No.” London’s voice was calm, careful. His expression was so soft and serious when he turned to look at me that I almost felt defensive.

“You can’t stop me, rabbit. They’re already dead, they just don’t know it.”

He shook his head and took a deep breath. I saw it in the rise of his shoulders, the way he straightened himself up, he was steeling himself for something, and I was ready to cut down any argument that he might have had for me. Which… was why I didn’t expect the next words that came out of his mouth.

“No, I’m not saying you can’t kill them, Otto. I’m just saying you aren’t doing it alone. I’m coming with you.”

Instinct instantly demanded I tell him no, that he wasn’t doing anything. If it hadn’t already gone so badly the last time, I would have chained him to the bed again, to a damn radiator if I had to… but…

There was something in his eyes—steel and determination. The slightest edges of the man I’d known before, the one who’d been a better killer than I was. I’d shown him the letter because I wanted him to be prepared… Wasn’t this just more of the same?

London was London, but every now and then I realized his heart might have belonged to him, but there were bits of his bones that screamed Nikki in shrapnel shards ready to take down the world.

“You want to kill people with me, London?” I stepped into him, trailing my fingers up the length of his arm and settling against his throat. His pulse was hammering against my palm, but he didn’t step back. He didn’t waver.

“No, I don’t want to kill anyone, Otto… but you’re not going without me. We’re doing this together, or you aren’t doing it at all.” The soft demand in his voice was like spider silk—stronger than it had any right to be, even though it felt like a gossamer strand against my cheek.

I didn’t think I could break free. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. London was sweet, easy to break, easier to bleed.

It would be better if he knew how to cut instead.

“Fine.”

His eyes actually widened slightly, like he’d expected more of an argument. I could see it on the tip of his tongue, all the reasons he was ready to give for why he was right and I was wrong… but I didn’t want to hear it.

I didn’t want to waste time on it.

I wasn’t going to fight him when every minute we had together felt like something we’d stolen from the clutches of death. I wasn’t going to waste it with something stupid like not trusting him enough to keep him beside me.

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