Page 89 of Boy of Ruin
I catch sight of the knife block at the end of the island, force myself to look back at her.
“No.” That word is full of venom from her pretty mouth. “You’re right. You weren’t. Why don’t you go back there?” She gestures toward the door, rolling her eyes. “Why don’t you go fuck her and leave me in fucking peace?” She turns from me, walks around the counter.
Like she actually thinks I’ll let her go.
I catch sight of her tank top, riding up above her skirt. See her rounded belly, so subtle, but I know her so fucking well.
I see the proof of what she is.
What she has.
Something I wish was mine.
I rub my thumb over my sternum, thinking about it. About her, carrying his baby. About how her body will change and morph and grow more beautiful every fucking day, but not because of me.
Because of him.
My brother.
I try to push thoughts of him from my mind because it hurts, and because there’s something else on the counter in front of me too.
A loaded gun.
I wouldn’t want tonight to get out of hand, thanks to someone that doesn’t deserve the very breath he fucking breathes.
But I can’t let her get away.
Maybe I should be a better person. Maybe I should have a fucking heart, let her deal with whatever is happening to hers.
But something changed in me at the Forgues.
It ripped my mind apart.
I barely got out of that cage alive. It was too much to ask that I’d get out human too. That I’d understand how to feel someone else’s pain, without wanting to rip it out of their fucking heart.
And that’s what I want to do.
I want to heal her.
She’s not going back to him.
We both know that.
Even if she wants to, she isn’t.
I adjust myself through my pants, thinking of tying her up. Forcing her to stay here.
But first I’ve got to stop her from leaving.
I close the space between us, yanking her to me.
Her breath leaves her in a rush, and I bring the cold water bottle in my hand that she threw at my fucking head to her chest.
She shivers, big gray eyes glancing down at the water, then flicking back up to me.
“Jeremiah,” she says, trying to keep her voice angry, her tone harsh.
But I see her nipples pebble beneath her sheer black tank, no bra underneath it. And more than that, she doesn’t walk away from me.
