Page 11 of Pray for Scars
What happened with the 6. What they have to do to her, because of who she is. I’m not even sure who exactly that is, I just know she threatens the order of things. And I know what happens when the 6’s order gets threatened.
There’s no saving her now.
I tried. And as I glance at the flat plane of her abs beneath her top, I know I probably failed. I’d try again for the fuck of it, for how good it felt to come inside of her, but we don’t have that much time, and even if we did, I don’t think she wants me inside of her again.
It’s why I used the knife.
I reach over the center console, smooth back her hair, gripping the back of her skull in my hand.
“Sayplease,”I say again, my eyes inches from hers.
They flutter open and she blinks up at me, her eyes bleary. “Please,” she whispers, and I can feel her exhaustion in that one single word. I can feel it, but I can’t let it go. Let her go. Not just yet.
“Say my name.” I try to keep my voice hard, words edged. But it comes out like a plea and I know she knows, in the way her lips tilt up as her eyes flutter closed again.
“Please,Lucifer.”
I run my fingers through her hair, down to the back of her neck even as the center console digs into my side. I massage her shoulders, watching her drift into a drunken sleep, watching her inhales and exhales, wondering what it might be like if they stopped. If her life was snuffed out.
I know what it’ll be like.
My own personal hell.
One I won’t survive.
I had a flinch before, empty gun pressed to my forehead.
I won’t again.
Not if she isn’t here. I’ll just have to meet her on the other side.
Chapter Four
I wakeup in a bed that isn’t mine. And I’ve got about two seconds of staring at the high, vaulted ceilings before the headache kicks in, pounding in my temples so hard I swear my fucking teeth rattle around in my skull.
And then three more seconds before his voice makes my knees lock up and I scramble upright, pressing myself against the headboard at my back, my knees tucked into my chest, grey, soft sheets still over my body.
“Good morning, Lilith,” Lucifer says softly, and my eyes dart to the door across the room. He’s leaning against the doorway, dressed in black sweats that hug his thighs, a black hoodie, his skeleton bandana pulled down around his neck. He has his hands in his pockets and those deep blue eyes on me, a lock of curly black hair over one brow.
I take in the dark wooden floors of this room, the entire wall of windows across from the bed, dark curtains pulled tight over them. There’s a black rug on the floor, nightstands on each side of the bed, a door, slightly ajar, that leads to a marble-inlaid bathroom, another door that’s closed that might be a closet.
The room is huge, but there’s not nearly enough space between us right now. My heart slams around in my chest, making my head throb worse, and although I didn’t try to run last night, I’m regretting that decision right now. I’m wondering if I barrel straight for the windows, if they’d shatter and I’d be able to fucking scale the roof and get away from this beautiful demon boy that wants me dead.
As if he’s reading my mind, he sighs, looking down at his shoes. Black Converses, but probably not real ones. The rich kid version of them.
“Don’t try to run, baby girl,” he whispers, so quiet I can barely hear him over my pulse pounding in my head. “It’ll only hurt worse, in the end.”
I try to swallow, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.
He meets my gaze, tilting his head. “You were out for a while.”
I glance to the windows again, see light peeking through the top. What time is it? What fucking day is it?
“Who were you running from, Lilith?” he asks me, and he takes a step into the room, his gaze never leaving mine. But even though he’s asked a question, like he doesn’t know, the corners of his mouth lift in a smile.
Jeremiah.
“Did you…” I clear my throat, my words coming out hoarse. “Did you hurt him?”
