Page 36 of PortCity Killers

??T W E L V E??

Don found me in the bathroom by the time he came up.

I had begun to think he wouldn’t show, and I didn’t know if I was more grateful for his presence or if I wished he had skipped whatever little interlude he had wanted to have with me.

He looked at me a second too long as he stood in the bathroom doorway, his eyes glued on the frantic movements in the sink. This wasn’t the first time a man had walked in on me washing blood off my hands.

The red of my hands faded to pink, never fully becoming clear as I scrubbed into the grooves of my fingers.

The nasty thing about washing blood off your hands was the millions of tiny lines that seemed to trap the offending elixir. I hooked the nail of my thumbs under each of my other fingers, doing my damnedest to clean them.

Don stood behind me, reaching slowly for the drawer beside my knee. I shifted to the side, not slowing. Finding what he was searching for he stood beside me, his hands dipping a washcloth into the sink before he sudsed it up with the soap I’d left in the basin.

His hands were huge, almost as large as Bryce’s, as he took my tiny one between them. He rubbed gentle but firm strokes, changing his rhythm much in the same way Valentina changed hers when she had been choking me on his cock.

I shuddered, a soft breath coming from between my lips. Don stiffened, but otherwise didn’t make any other movement but to clean me.

He switched hands, rubbing circles in my palm that had my body heating up for no other reason than that I was a fucking hussy. A fucked up hussy. I shook my head, softly, as if I could dislodge the thoughts and desires if I coaxed them from between my ears.

Don moved to my arms, my neck, gentle strokes of the warm cloth that sent shivers through my body as he cleaned me. He got a new towel and wet the corner, running it across my face and down my nose.

He cleaned every inch of available skin, not stopping even as he set me on the toilet seat.

He squatted down in front of me, rubbing the blood out of my knees and shins. By the time he was done, my body was burning, and I hated myself just a little bit for it.

I didn’t want to.

I wanted to luxuriate in the blood, to bathe in it and lap it up off of Don’s cheek where he’d somehow gotten a little smudge.

Bryce had always made me feel comfortable with what I wanted. Had he made me so comfortable that I didn’t know how to validate my own feelings on it? Could I? Should I? Shouldn’t I be ashamed?

Don, still on the balls of his feet, looked at me with such intensity I thought I might choke. His eyes drifted between mine as he calculated every shift in my emotions. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, just like he had done earlier.

“Better?” He asked, not moving.

I nodded, looking down at the boots on my feet between his legs.

He shook his head, tutting at me as he lifted my chin, “None of that, now. What happened to the fire everyone talks about?”

My brows furrowed, “What?”

His smile was amused and quiet, “Oh yes, little Lexi. You’re very well known for the flaming fortress you present to people.”

I shook my head, not knowing what to say.

“When we were tracking you and your brother down, people had a lot to say about the two of you.”

I scoffed, “I’m sure they had great things to say.”

“About you? Many. Your brother? Not quite.”

“Where is he?”

“Jaymes? Valentina likely took him to breakfast. She’s as besotted with you as I am. She’ll threaten him, but she won’t harm him for the moment.” Don ignored my huff, instead watching me very closely he asked, “Was it blood or because we're siblings? Why you were freaking out when I came in.”

“Can’t it be both?” I mumbled. I couldn’t exactly tell him that I knew, but if he wanted to correct me, it would be easier for me.

He nodded, as if he had expected as much.

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