Page 67 of Boy of Ruin
The doors are fucking locked.
The doors are fucking locked.
I Don’t Belong Here by I Prevail is playing softly through the speakers of the car and my heart is breaking as it does.
I unbuckle my seatbelt, turn away from Jeremiah and flip the lock on the door, clawing at the handle, but before I can get the door open, Jeremiah’s strong fingers curl around my bicep, hard enough to bruise as he yanks me back in.
“What, exactly, do you think is happening right now, baby?” he asks me quietly, his words edged with something cold.
My hands start to tremble, and I ball them into fists. See Jeremiah’s cold gaze locked on mine.
I swallow, my mouth dry.
“Did something…did something happen to him?”
Jeremiah’s grip tightens on my arm and I wince, digging my own nails into the palm of my hands.
“To who?” he presses me, that coldness in his voice causing a chill to slide down my spine.
“L-Lucifer,” I manage to say, choking on my husband’s name. I dart my gaze to Nicolas, but I can read nothing in his expression. He’s still just staring at me.
Just like Jeremiah.
My heart sinks.
My stomach knots up.
I think I’m going to be sick. “What happened?” I gasp out, pleading with him. “What the fuck are we doing here? What the fuck—”
Jeremiah reaches across the center console, his hand coming to the back of my neck as he leans close to me, pressing his brow to mine.
I catch his clean scent, peppermint on his breath as he speaks, his words caressing my mouth.
“You worried about him, sis?” he asks me quietly.
I open my mouth. Close it. What the fuck is going on? Where the fuck are we?
He smiles, but it’s cold. Does nothing except make me more nervous, a twitchy feeling in my limbs, my hands still balled into fists on my thighs.
His fingers are still around my arm, hand still around the back of my neck.
“You scared he’s…dead?”
My breath catches, my lip trembling.
His own lips curve back into a smile that nearly brushes against my mouth. “That’s no less than what he deserves.”
Time seems to stand still. For a moment, I can’t breathe. Can’t think.
Then the moment passes, and I think my heart is shattering. I think I might be dying, too.
My stomach hurts, and I finally react, snap out of this spell Jeremiah Rain seems capable of placing over every and anyone he meets.
I try to jerk away from him, but he only grips me tighter.
I slap at his chest, my hands going to his throat. “What did you do to him?” The words are wild, reckless. “What the fuck did you fucking do to him?”
I’m drowning, my throat closing up, my breaths coming in shallow pants, my heart nearly bursting out of my fucking chest.
