Page 26 of Dead Devil's Playground
I'm shouting now, my voice bouncing off the metal walls of the container. The exhaustion of the past forty-eight hours fuels my rage, making it burn hotter, brighter.
Hudson moves faster than I expect. One moment he's standing a few feet away, the next he's right in front of me, backing me against the container wall. His hands plant on either side of my head, caging me in.
"Enough," he growls, his face inches from mine. "This isn't helping."
"Don't tell me what helps," I snarl back, refusing to be intimidated even as my body reacts to his proximity. "This ismycity.Mybusiness they're fucking with."
"And you won't be able to protect any of it if you burn yourself out," he counters, his voice dropping lower, vibrating with authority.
I try to duck under his arm, but he shifts, blocking my escape. "Move," I demand.
"No." The single word is absolute. "Not until you take a breath and think clearly."
Our eyes lock in silent battle. I refuse to back down, even as I feel the weight of his presence pressing against me. His body radiates heat, his scent—cedar and that underlying scent that’s justhim—filling my senses. My heart hammers against my ribs, but whether from anger or something else, I can't tell anymore.
"We will find them," Hudson says again, each word deliberate and weighted. "And when we do, you'll have your revenge. But right now, you need to focus."
His eyes are impossibly green in the dim light of the container, intense and unwavering. I watch as his gaze drops briefly to my lips before snapping back up to meet mine. The air between us thickens, charged with something beyond anger. Something that makes my body hum.
My phone chimes suddenly, the sound shattering the moment. Hudson doesn't move immediately, his breath still mingling with mine, his eyes still holding me captive. Then, slowly, he steps back, allowing me space to reach for my phone.
I pull it from my pocket, glancing down at the screen. The message is from Rev, and as I read it, I feel a slow, dangerous grin spread across my face.
'We found someone with information. Get back here now.'
Chapter 11
Ry
Iholdmyphoneup, my grin turning feral. "Rev's got someone who knows something."
Hudson's eyes darken as he reads the message. "Let's go."
I practically bounce on my toes as we head back to the bike, adrenaline pushing back the exhaustion that's been clawing at me. My limbs feel weightless, almost disconnected, like I'm floating rather than walking. The world around me seems to blur at the edges, colors too bright, sounds too sharp. I know this feeling—this manic energy that comes when I've pushed my body far past its limits—but I embrace it.
Sleep is for the weak. I can rest when whoever's responsible is bleeding out at my feet.
After putting on our helmets Hudson swings his leg over Rev's motorcycle, the leather seat creaking beneath his weight. I slide on behind him, my body fitting against his like we've done this a thousand times. His back is a wall of muscle against my chest,solid and unyielding. I wrap my arms around his waist, feeling the heat of him even through his jacket.
"Hold tight," he warns, revving the engine.
We tear out of the docks, the wind whipping at my clothes as Hudson navigates through the labyrinthine pathways. Once we hit the main road, he opens up the throttle, and the bike surges forward with a roar that vibrates through my entire body.
The city becomes a blur of light and shadow as we weave through traffic. My heart pounds in rhythm with the engine, and I find myself pressing closer to Hudson's back, seeking his warmth. His body is like a furnace, radiating heat that seeps into my bones, chasing away the chill of fatigue.
Hudson takes a corner sharply, and I instinctively tighten my thighs around the bike, around him. The friction sends a jolt of heat straight to my core, and I bite my lip to suppress a gasp. The combination of his body against mine, the powerful machine between my legs, and the danger coursing through my veins is intoxicating.
Another sharp turn, another squeeze of my thighs, and I feel my body responding in ways that are entirely inappropriate for the situation. Each vibration of the engine thrums through me, settling low in my belly, between my legs. I shift slightly, trying to alleviate the pressure, but it only makes things worse.
Hudson's muscles flex beneath my hands as he maneuvers the bike through a particularly tight gap between cars. The display of control, of power, sends another wave of heat through me. I can't help but remember those same hands on my throat, on my skin, demanding and precise.
Not the time, Ry. Not thefuckingtime.
But my exhausted brain isn't listening to reason. My body has its own agenda, responding to the proximity, the danger, the thrill of the hunt ahead. I press my cheek against his back, inhaling his scent.
Hudson accelerates suddenly, the bike surging forward with unexpected force. The burst of speed hits me like a drug, and a wild laugh escapes me, high and unrestrained. I throw my head back, cackling into the wind as buildings fly past us.
The helmet's comm crackles to life. "You're insane," Hudson's voice comes through, intimate in my ear despite the roar of the engine. There's a smile in his voice that sends heat down my spine.
