Page 12 of X's and O's
The female rage inside me was real. These men could go to hell if they thought I was just going to be another statistic. A woman murdered by a man.
A woman drowned then eaten by a shark.
I was sure there were statistics about that too.
I fumbled around on the countertop, never taking my eyes from the killers, but hating them with all my heart. My fingers caught the edge of an egg carton. I flicked it open and sent an egg flying in X’s direction, knowing full well it wouldn’t hurt him, but at this point, I was just fucking pissed off with the whole situation.
So when it cracked right on the side of his face, sending gooey yolk down his neck and onto his shirt, something inside me was really damn satisfied.
“Why are you throwing eggs at me?” X yelled at me. “We could make omelets with those!”
Scythe sniggered into his phone. “I’m not sure it’s her you need to worry about.”
Damn straight. I was Violet fucking Garrisen.
And I wasn’t going down without a fight.
4
X
Ididn’t know you could fall in love with someone in the space it took for them to pitch a rolling pin at your head.
But here I was, utterly and completely in love with a woman who wouldn’t stop throwing things at me.
Eggs hit the bookshelf I hid behind, one after another, a shocking waste of ingredients I could have added to some chopped-up peppers, bacon, and cheese. A quick flick of the wrist over some heat, and the love of my life could have been wrapping her pretty pink lips around a meal fit for the queen she was.
I grinned at Scythe and mouthed, “I’m gonna marry her.”
He just rolled his eyes.
“What? I am!”
“She’s throwing knives at you because you just killed a man in cold blood right in front of her, but sure. I’ll put on a tux and be your best man. We’ll have the ceremony next week on the island of Delulu.”
I grinned at him. “That’s the spirit.”
Scythe just shook his head, hiding his laughter.
My future wife let out a scream that sounded like something ripped from the gates of Hell. Scythe winced, but I was kinda digging it. I liked a feisty woman.
At least I thought I did.
It was hard to know when one had never had a girlfriend because one was scared of sort of, maybe,accidentally, murdering them.
But not her. Flying objects hit me over and over because I couldn’t stop sticking my head out to stare at her. She was all tits and ass and curves for days. So fucking sexy. Her long blond hair resembled a bird’s nest, and her blue eyes were wide and crazy-looking, but I liked that too.
I liked everything about her.
Everything except the gouges in her skin that still oozed a slow trickle of blood down her legs and arms and belly. Those marks stirred up something dangerous inside me that wanted to kill old farty, rapey Paul all over again.
I stretched my neck, trying to dislodge the urge to stab.
The barrage of flying kitchen supplies slowed, and I dared another peek out.
The woman breathed heavily, leaning on the kitchen counter, tears streaming down both cheeks, taking her mascara with them.
She was still beautiful.
