Page 37 of The First Cut
He leads me through the ghost town I walked up yesterday. This time, we pass a couple of people, but they just eye us and keep walking. I keep my head down, feeling my face flame. Have people been told to ignore me, or do they hate me here as much as they do back home? Havoc's their president now, after all.
Not a single person talks to us, and by the time we make it to the truck, I’m about ready to crawl out of my skin. As soon as he pops the locks, I yank the door open and climb in, slamming the door closed. Stupid tears fill my eyes as I fumble with the seatbelt. I swallow a sob when Hannibal’s hand covers mine, clicking the seatbelt into place.
In the next second, his fingers are under my chin, tipping my head back. I hate that he always does this. It makes it impossible for me to hide. “What’s wrong?” His voice comes out gruff, as if my tears personally offend him.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“Fuck that. Tell me why you’re crying.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Everyone hates me.”
“So.”
A snort of laughter escapes me. “I thought you’d tell me I was imagining it.”
“I don’t sugarcoat shit, and I won’t lie to you. You know people have an opinion formed about you. You can’t control that, but you can control how you let that affect you.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Do you want me to go fuck them up?”
I startle at his words. “I…what?”
“Do you want me to fuck them up? Would that make you feel better?”
“You can’t kick someone’s ass just because I’m sad.”
“Yeah? Fucking watch me. I don’t like seeing you cry.”
I have no idea what to say to that. I do an impression of a gaping fish, but then he surprises me even further by leaning forward and pressing his mouth to mine.
He slips his tongue inside before my brain can come back online again. His grip on my face tightens, but not enough to hurt me, just to hold me in place as he shows me what I’ve been missing for the last few years.
Driller had zero interest in my pleasure. All he cared about was what I could do for him. Havoc was the last person to make my body sing, and even then, it was in the way that first love blooms. He was the man I lost my virginity to and my first kiss. His kisses were a promise of the life he planned to give me—the same one he took away in an instant. Driller’s kisses were all about punishing me for loving his brother and hating him. He knew he could force my body to do his bidding, but he couldn’t force my heart to love him. Hannibal, though, kisses me like a man who came, saw, and conquered in one fell swoop. He mightnot be my first man, but his kiss brings with it its own promise—a promise that he will be my last.
When he pulls back my eyes flutter open.
“Anyone else makes you cry, you tell me about it and I’ll fix it.”
“Sure,” I whisper, lying through my ass. I won’t be running to him, telling tales. Snitches get stitches, after all. Hopefully, though, the fear of Hannibal stepping in might hold them back, and that’s enough for me.
His lips twitch like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, but he doesn’t call me on it. Instead, he puts his seatbelt on and starts up the truck, nodding to the prospect who opens the gates for us.
The second we’re off Ravens property I begin to relax. Each mile farther, the easier it is to breathe. I might have to return to my prison later, but for now, I’m going to enjoy my freedom.
Chapter Eleven
Hannibal
The more time I’m around this woman the more drawn to her I am. She’s a fucking stunner, don’t get me wrong, but it’s her eyes that hold me captive. They say eyes are the window to the soul, and if that’s true, then I’ve never met a soul more haunted than hers.
When we arrive at the medical supplies store, I park as close to the entrance as I can so she doesn’t have far to walk.
“Wait while I get the door.”
I jump out before she can argue, walking around to open her door. I reach in and unclip her belt before lifting her out of the car. “Ready?”
She nods as I take her hand and lead her inside. I grab a cart before heading down the first aisle with Lola walking quietly beside me.
