Page 42 of Dead Love
“You did this all by hand?” I asked. “I get digging a grave every once in a while, but this—” A clump of dirt hit the mound next to the site, interrupting me. I started again: “Isn’t this excessive?”
He threw another shovel full over the side. “I prefer to do it by hand.” The clod fell onto the pile with a thud. “Keeps me busy.”
He hit the shovel into the ground as if it felt good to take out his anger on the dirt.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
A few more shovels of dirt passed before he finally spoke up. “No one knows what’s going on. Murders. Drugging. Arson. Runaways. Abductions.” His voice raised in pitch, avoiding something else. “No one cares. No one gives a fuck what their plans are, or what’s going to happen.” He stabbed the shovel into the ground. “We just keep spinning around in circles until we all fall down.”
Was he talking about the Echo deaths? “My father will figure it out,” I said. If there was one thing my father cared about, it was justice.
Vincent chuckled. “Unless it’s all happening right under his nose.”
I shot a glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He never stopped shoveling the dirt. “The world isn’t made of roses, Kora,” he finally said. “Not everyone is as perfect as you think they are.” He shook his head. “But everyone falls. Everyone crumbles eventually.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are you so bitter?”
Suddenly, he leaped out of the hole, jumping to my side. He wrapped me in his grip, throwing me around until I was locked in his arms. I thrashed, trying to break free, but he yanked me into the grave.
“What the hell are you doing?!” I yelled.
He slammed me against the wall of dirt. I gasped. His eyes hovered over each part of me, the moon’s reflection gold in his black pupils. To my bare neck. Down to my covered stomach. My legs. Dirt filled my palm, and I dug into the earth with my fingers, the soil caking my nails.
What did he want from me?
He unzipped the hoodie slowly, letting each slide of the metal teeth send shivers down my spine. I hadn’t worn a bra; the tank top was thin underneath it. He cupped my breast. A subtle pain filled my chest. And when his thumb lingered over my nipple, he grinned, then pulled my shirt down until my breasts were exposed. He continued massaging me, teasing my skin, driving me crazy. Every thought erased from my head.
“Is this better for you?” he asked, a grin on his face. That grin made me want to fall to my knees and slap him in the face all at the same time. My eyes traced his strong shoulders, his thick arms that were used to the labor of digging, the dirt flaked across his neck and hands, marking my breasts. Down further to his stomach, the bulge growing in his pants.
“Go on,” he said. “Touch me, flower. If you don’t like it when I’m bitter, show me how you’d rather I behave.”
My fingers flinched. I longed to feel his cock; I had only ever seen one on Nyla’s phone when my mother was in the storeroom. Butthis?Sex permeated the air, a heavy, fragrant scent mixed with earth, and yet the smirk on his face made me small. Like he knew exactly what his next move was, and I had barely figured out how to stand on my own two feet.
“I—” I muttered, not sure what to say. “I thought we were getting along well now.”
“How dare I confuse the princess.”
My skin flushed, full of heat. I clenched my jaw, and he laughed, though it seemed forced. With the tension building inside of me, I reached forward, grabbing his cock, squeezing it. A growl escaped his lips, his hardness twitching under my grasp. My lips fluttered open, my breath caught in my throat, and he pinched my nipples, digging his nails into my skin.
“What are you doing to me?” I whimpered.
With both of my nipples pressed in his fingers, he twisted until I bit my lip. I tried so hard not to make a sound, and he kept me on my toes.
“How does that make you feel, flower?” he asked. His breath was hot, brushing my cheek and neck, and I squeezed his cock tighter, not knowing what else to do. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and when he looked at me again, he bared his teeth like a predator.
“I feel—” My whole body was hot. It was hard to think. He brought his mouth down to my neck, grazing me with his lips, sending chills down my spine. I closed my eyes, enjoying it. But then I remembered this wasn’t about me. I wanted to know abouthim,why he was so angry. So bitter. All the time. “Answer me,” I whispered. He didn’t stop, so I said it louder. “Vincent. Answer me. What’s actually going on with you? Why are you so angry?”
He bit down on my neck, so hard that white-hot pain burned through my body, making all of my muscles seize up. Then he dug his fingers into my back, getting between the ribs, digging in tight until I crumpled in his arms. My eyes watered, but I held strong, holding my breath.
“I don’t understand,” I rasped. “Do you want to kill me? Is that it?”
“Kill you?” he laughed. Holding me up with one arm, using the other to play with my nipples, he rotated between massaging my areola and pinching it until I had to bite my lip to stop myself from crying out. “That’s only the start of it.” Then he shoved me forward, pinning me to the wall, grabbing my neck. The dirt clumps fell down, and he smirked, then squeezed tighter, until my face was hot and everything sounded fuzzy. “You’ve never known death, have you, flower? Not until Nyla.” My lips trembled, trying to say the words,Please. Vincent.But he watched me shake in his grip. I pulled at his hands, trying to loosen his grip, until finally I kneed him in the chest and he dropped me to the floor. I coughed, the dirt flying back in my face, but he looked down at me, unfazed. Then he scooped me up in his arms, forcing me to stand. He took one of my fingers, bringing it to his mouth, then bit down harder and harder until the pain shot all the way to the back of my arms. I let out a sob, unable to hold back, and stomped down on his feet, but he didn’t move. He simply laughed. Then he relieved the pressure by shoving my hand into my pants. I instantly flushed again; I was so wet.
We stared into each other’s eyes. “You’ve never felt real pain before this. Tell me I’m wrong, Kora.”
I didn’t know what to say. He was right. I had never known loss like that. Not until Nyla.
