Page 12 of Pray for Scars
Anger flashes in his eyes and he takes another step toward me, his full lips pressed into a line. “Did Iwhat,Lilith?”
“Did you hurt him, Lucifer?”
When I say his name, his eyes go wide, then they soften. But only for one second. One single second, and I might have been imagining it.
“Do you want me to hurt him?” he counters, taking another step. And another. And then he’s right beside the bed, and he leans over it, his palms flat on the mattress, his eyes boring into mine.
We’re still a foot apart, but with him so close, it’s hard to think.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
“Hurt him like he hurt you?” he asks.
I shake my head. “He-he didn’t,” I manage to say. “He didn’t hurt me, he just…” I trail off, because he did. Because he always has.
Lucifer’s midnight blue eyes narrow, his hands turn into fists on the bed. He climbs on top of it, straddles me, his hips resting against mine, the warmth and strength of his body pressing against me, his knees against the mattress.
He lifts my chin with one hand, the other threading its way into my hair.
I put my palms against his chest, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.
“You want me off?” he asks, cocking his head as he gazes down at me.
“I—”What do I want?I swallow, look away from him. “What do you want with me?”
“Look at me,” he commands.
Reluctantly, I do.
He leans down close, tilts his head. “I have a surprise for you tonight, baby girl.” He runs his bottom lip over my cheek, his mouth open as he claims me, drags his lips to my ear. “Everyone will be waiting for you.” His breath is warm against my skin and I shiver. I swear to God I can hear his smile before he says, “I’ve been told that you’ve been bad, Lilith. I’ve been told you were never taught how to be good. But tonight, we’ll cleanse you, okay?” He nudges my ear with the tip of his nose. “And when you’re done paying for your sins, there won’t be much left of you.”
Chapter Five
The church gatesopen after I punch in the code, and I jump back in the car, shut the door, and pull through.
My gut twists as I hear the iron gates clanking closed, and I can’t stop the nervous sweat that breaks out on the back of my neck as my eyes find my father’s car.
A black Lincoln, because he’s a fuck.
I double park as far from the Lincoln as I can get, turn the car off, and reach for my lighter in my black sweats.
He’ll be pissed I’m wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Which is why I do it.
I run my thumb over the dented ridge of the lighter’s switch, suck in a breath, and get out, pocketing my key. I lock the doors, because I don’t trust my father or his guards, and head to the heavy black door of the cathedral.
And Sanctumisa cathedral.
Private, not open for Sunday services. The thought actually makes me laugh. I’ve seen more depravity inside this church than I have anywhere else in my life, which is saying a lot, considering my father’s wife liked to be pretty fucking depraved inside my bedroom.
I have to shove my shoulder against the heavy ass door, and finally, it creaks open, loudly, announcing my entrance.
I inhale, the scent of incense making my throat tighten.
My father’s wife loves incense. She liked fucking me while she let it burn on my dresser. I’d watch the smoke curl up to my ceiling, wishing I could disappear into thin air like that.
The door thuds closed behind me, and ahead, the red door that leads to the sanctuary is yanked open.
Gustavo—at least I think that’s his name—steps through the doorway, hand on the gun at his hip.
