Page 80 of Hell of a Mess
Mal would also be home soon.
“As much as I’d like nothing more than to stay inside you and fuck you like an animal, I need to go before Mal gets back. And you’ve not eaten for me yet.”
I began to ease out of her, and her eyes widened. When I was no longer clinched in the hottest cunt I’d ever had, she started to close her legs, and I stopped her. My eyes dropped to look at the slick little hole and watched as my seed began to leak from her.
Mine.
No one else had been there. Only my dick. My cum was inside her.
I didn’t want to leave her here. She belonged with me.
Closing her legs with my hands, I reached for her good arm and pulled her to me and pressed a kiss to her temple.
Mal was going to kill me, but I didn’t fucking care.
Thirty-Three
Luther
“I’m sorry, Luther, are we interrupting your texting with business?” Linc asked in that annoyed tone he saved for me alone.
I was well aware of the business we were handling.
Me: Eat the spaghetti for me. I want video proof.
A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth when I thought about Lace’s reaction to my request. I’d managed to get her to eat half of a peanut butter and banana sandwich before I had to leave Mal’s this afternoon.
Mal hadn’t wanted to leave her at home while we planned our strategy on how to handle Halsten. So, she was here. In thekitchen with Jayda, Stevie, and Branwen. She’d promised me she would eat.
Ocean Eyes: I can’t do that. They’ll see me.
Me: Tell them it’s for me. I asked for proof that you ate.
“As I was saying…” Linc spoke loudly, and I sighed and lifted my eyes to see him looking at me.
“I can hear you,” I pointed out and reached for my whiskey.
“Then maybe you’d like to recap what you saw in the basement for those who weren’t there.” He said it as if he’d already asked me to do this.
I hadn’t heard that. Guessed I had gotten good at blocking him out.
I took a drink, needing it to go over this shit. I knew it had to be done, but, damn it, I didn’t want to think about it.
“The door that Wayon believed led to Lace’s bedroom was a basement. Concrete walls, floors, damp, stunk of mildew. Boxes and discarded furniture was stacked up, along with other things like old portraits. I found one of a girl on a horse. It wasn’t Lace. The far-back corner, there was a piece of cardboard, lying out flat, with a small piece of foam at one end and a flashlight beside it. When I got closer, I could see the imprint of a body, like someone had lain there many times. Not just once. It was worn. Old.”
I said nothing about the notebook. I hadn’t been able to read any more since coming home to find Lace gone. I was afraid I’d read shit that made me want to go check on her, and I no longerhad that ability. My sleep had already gone to shit as it was.
“Okay, so how do we know that it was Lace who slept there? I mean, is that what you’re saying you believe? That he hid her in a basement?” Gathe asked, scowling as he said it.
The idea wasn’t something he wanted to think was true, and I understood it. I didn’t either, but I had the proof in that notebook.
“It was her bed,” I replied.
“Did you ask her?” he pushed.
“No, I didn’t have to. I just know.”
“But—”
