Page 118 of Like Grim Death: Part One
Lucifer’s lips curl up as he stares at me, trying to shrug Cain off, but we both know that’s not going to happen.
“Give it to me.” His words are full of a raw anger that I canfeel.
“Who the fuck was that?”
Lucifer’s eyes are slits. “Give me mygoddamnphone.”
“I know that fucker. Who was it?”
Something in my tone must drag my brother momentarily out of his lust for coke because he says, “Nikita. He’s the fucker I stabbed. He tried to give me blow at the house and Sid flushed it. I’ve been a fucking good boy, all right?Just give me a fucking break.”
Nikita.Only vaguely familiar just like the guy himself. But now I know that’s who Lucifer stabbed, I don’t exactly blame him and neither should Elijah. And grudgingly, I’m proud of Sid for flushing cocaine down the toilet. Lucifer must have hated that shit, a winter wonderland going down the drain.
I hold up both hands, palms toward him. “I know what you’re doing and I don’t just mean trying to score.”
His eyes narrow into demonic blue slits. “Good for you. Now give me myfuckingphone.” He jerks against Cain’s hold again, but Cain isn’t even breaking a sweat behind him, his dark eyes on me. If Cain ever got his hands on my girl, the way he exudes control and violence without a blink, I’d hack him into pieces.
I shake my head to Lucifer but lower my hands, stepping closer, until I can smell the nicotine of him again. He’s still violently thrashing in Cain’s arms, but he gets nowhere.
“You’ve got the weight of the fucking world on your shoulders.”
With my words, he stills.
I step closer. We’re a foot apart, eye level. “You’re trying not to let it crush you. Crush Lilith. Rain.”
He swallows, hard, his throat rolling as he does.
I feel Cain’s gaze on me like a brand, but he doesn’t let Luce go and he doesn’t interrupt me.
“You’ve got this ache, don’t you?” I glance at his chest, then bring my gaze back up. “Something in your veins. Something to make it all stop.”
He grinds his teeth together, a muscle in his bone jumping.
“You can imagine it, can’t you? Vividly. How good it would feel, burning at the back of your throat.” Cocaine isn’t my vice. Marijuana, they say it isn’t addictive, but I’ve tried to cut down the past few months, and it’s fucking hard. Because it was a crutch. It was a cloud of bliss. It was an escape. “You cantasteit, can’t you?” I think it’s why I’m neglecting Ella. Why I’m so willing to resort to violence over communication with her.
Lucifer’s chest rises and falls so fast, so deep, it looks like ithurtsfor him to breathe.
Another step. I’m in his face, my mouth close to his. I don’t touch him, but I don’t back up. I don’t give him room to fuck this up.
“Whatever the fuck you’re thinking right now…” I search his eyes, and he seems to stop breathing, his chest still.“Don’t.”
His eyes change. From narrowed and angry to wide and… begging. It’s like he’sbeggingme to make this stop. And I don’t know what form he wants that to take, but I’m not giving him his goddamn phone back tonight.
“Cut it off. Let it go. Craveherinstead.”
He knows exactly who the fuck I’m talking about. His pupils seem to enlarge, swallowing up most of the blue.
I lean in, tilting my head so my breath ghosts his lips. “You’re not going to be like him.”
It’s like I can see it in his expression, what he’s thinking.I am. I’ll be just like my dad.
“You’re better.”
I’m not.It’s there, reflected on his face.
“You’re stronger than that.”
I’m fucking not.
