Page 54 of Don't Trust Him

Apparently Zario’s proof from me now, his revenge, is me fucking Grayson up.

“Fuck that motherfucker up, puta,” one of the guards says. I nod my head and look at Grayson.

The guards watch as Rafe and I unleash on Grayson again for their benefit. We beat him and kick him.

I think back to before Zario left. I shoved my tits in Grayson’s face while Zario grabbed my ass with one hand and broke Grayson’s rib with his Glock.

Something broke inside my brain, changed me forever, and none of it is making sense. I’m piecing this all together.

Zario may actually believe me after he saw the violence I was capable of with Grayson chained. Getting off on the cruelty as my fractured little brain thought about my mother, about everything horrible that we’d gone through, I channeled a darkness within me. My brain sought refuge in the fears I thought I’d conquered.

It changed me. And it became believable because Grayson was so badly beaten and close to death.

I’m shaking. Trembling. I want refuge in Grayson but it’s like I was riding my bike downhill and can’t slow myself down. I’m trapped inside my brain, needing to get free and get Grayson free.

I hope Grayson knows. He must, right?

Because we’re supposed to be forever.

I just may have killed him to save him.

Thirty-Two

Eliza

Wiping up a drip of blood from Grayson chin, I scoop it up and rub it against his lower lip, drawing it into my mouth and positioning myself between his legs.

Even tattered, torn, shaking, bleeding, broken—Grayson’s cock is hard as steel and pressed against me. I throw my head back, unable to stifle a moan.

I find home in him. I crave him even if I’m out of my mind. And I want him to protect me from everything that just happened. I know, that’s fucked up. He’s bleeding, aching, but...my head is fucking drowning in gasoline. Fire. Pain.

“Let my hands free,” Grayson groans.

The heat and lust in his voice now is unbearably persuasive. I want to. Even if he just kicks me in the teeth, I’ll knock him to the ground and put his hands on my ass.

I’m remembering fighting.

That’s not us anymore, right?

Part of it doesn’t matter.

Every instance of us, I want him. I want Grayson when we’re trying to kill each other just as much when we’re swearing our true love to each other.

I want him to drag me down into hell, though all I see is heaven when we are together. I realize this now. No matter our fate, I know it is linked. I want it that way. This is our destiny, writ together in blood, wrought together with wrath. Everything has led to this.

“Time to end this, bitch,” one of the guards says. “Kill that motherfucker.”

I don’t know what to do here.

I step back and appraise him. And that’s when I hear a massive bang on the doors.

Grayson wouldn’t be one of us if he didn’t have a guy, who busted in right here. Even when it seemed like we had no one else, he’s got a guy.

A guy who runs up to us and takes out a pistol with a silencer and shoots one of t

he guards dead before anyone can say or do anything.

That gives me the opportunity to go and kick the other guards feet out from under him before bringing my foot down on his neck and crunching it.

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