Page 76 of Always A Villain
Icould. Hell, it’d be easy. Vanish. Go underground.
But not with Rory.
“No.” The denial settles into my bones. “She’s my priority. I’m not leaving her.”
He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “You tell her?”
“Tell her what?”
“That you love her.” He smirks, tipping his drink at me. “And don’t try to play dumb.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, shaking my head. “What the hell is it with you and my personal life?”
He chuckles, smug as ever. “It’s entertaining. I’ve never seen you like this—actinghuman, almost.”
I glare. “Go to hell.”
“She’s good for you, man. You’re…different with her. Better.” His words are too fucking sincere for my taste. “I like her.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “So do I.”
His eyes narrow. “Did youtellher?”
“She hates me.”
He snorts. “Save her ass a few more times; she’ll come around.”
I roll my eyes. “Great advice.”
He smirks, clapping me on the shoulder. “Anytime.” Then, stretching, he groans. “I’m fucking tired. Hitting the sack.”
“You’re a bastard,” I mutter.
“Love you too, Reaper.” He grins before disappearing down the hall.
I pull out my phone, scrolling through the security feeds. Alicia’s in the basement, chained up, head slumped forward, still out cold.
The bedroom door creaks open.
I shove my phone in my pocket and look up.
Rory steps out, her damp hair spilling over her shoulders, her body drowned in one of my t-shirts. The sight of her knocks the breath from my lungs.
“Will you lay down with me?” Her voice is quiet.Vulnerable.
My throat tightens. I cross the room, pressing a rough kiss on her forehead. “Of course, little siren.”
She takes my hand, leading me to bed. And for the first time tonight, the rage inside me settles.
“I should shower first,” I mutter, catching the familiar metallic tang of blood and sweat clinging to my skin. It reeks of death. Violence.
Rory nods, sliding into bed, her small frame curling up, trusting me without hesitation. That trust is a fucking knife to the gut. She shouldn’t trust me. Not after everything. Not when my entire world is a goddamn war zone.
I strip down, crank the water scalding hot, and step under the spray. The heat doesn’t do shit to cleanse me, doesn’t wash away the filth of what I’ve done—what I’ll keep doing. Leaning against the shower wall, I squeeze my eyes shut, jaw locked tight as the guilt digs in.
She isn’t safe with me.
She never will be.
