Page 62 of Marked

Is that a glimmer of hurt I see in there too?

The audacity. As if he’s the one in this situation that is hurting. That’s been betrayed. That’s a murderer.

“How could you?” I ask, my words coming out with a harsh bite.

“No, it’s not what you think, Valkyrie,” he says slowly as if speaking to a child that needs placating.

“It’s Val,” I snap childishly, knowing damn well how much I hate hearing him call me by my nickname. But honestly, I’m terrified my resolve will fail if I keep hearing my name on his lips. Gods, what did this man do to me? Was this all part of his plan?

“Val,” he amends. “Please, let me explain. I’m not sure what Cerberus told you, but it’s not like that.”

“You’re not from my underworld, and neither is Ammit. But you two are from the same one, aren’t you?” When he reluctantly nods, my lip trembles. “Which one?”

His face crumples in defeat, a sigh escaping his nose. “Egypt,” he answers softly.

“Why?” I hate that my voice cracks as my emotions build up in a chaotic mess. “Why? I trusted you.”

Jack shoves his hands into his hair and grips it tightly with frustration. “This is not how I wanted any of this to come out. I was going to explain everything to you.”

I tighten my grip on the gun as my hand shakes a little. “Oh, were you? Was that before or after you fucked me, Jack?”

He looks like I sucker punched him, and a grimace twisting his expression. “It’s not like that.”

A harsh vibration buzzes along my thigh, and I almost pull the trigger out of surprise. Stupid fucking phone. I smack my free hand against it, trying to get it to stop. “Or maybe you wanted to make sure I was wrapped tightly enough around your finger first?”

The color blanches from his face, the rich tan skin turning pale. “Never,” Jack whispers, but his tone is firm. “If you would just listen to me.”

My phone stops, the call going to voicemail, but a few seconds later it’s vibrating once again. I try to ignore it as I keep my eyes on him. “You sure? You weren’t trying to get the pitiful detective to fall for you so you couldn’t possibly ever look guilty? What better way to cover your tracks, am I right?” This hurts way more than it should. He never should have gotten so close.

Those sensual lips part in surprise. “Guilty? Just what do you think I did, Valkyrie?” He blinks at me as if finally putting together what I figured out. Finally, I can see the embers of anger flare in his gaze. “You think I’m responsible for all the deaths? For mutilating all those women? Have you lost your mind?”

When he takes a step towards me, my fear spikes. I steel my spine and tighten my stance. “Stay back!”

“No, you need to—fuck!” He shouts and grabs his shoulder, grunting with pain. He looks at the blood blooming around his hand and turns a bewildered glare on me. “Did you just shoot me?”

I did, and the lingering regret angers me more.

“I warned you.” My chest is heaving, hand shaking harder. My phone starts vibrating again, and I almost pull the trigger a second time.

He eyes the gun warily before meeting my own with a scorching stare. “If you shoot me again, I’m going to slap that ass of yours so hard you’ll be feeling it for days.”

I gape at the calm, serious manner he said that in. Did I shoot the common sense out of him? “Really? You think this is the fucking time for that?” I seethe, narrowing my eyes at him even as my whore body responds to his crass words and the promise in them. “You’re not going to distract me.” Once again, my phone stops vibrating only to vibrate one more time after. This is dangerous for both of us. “Don’t move,” I warn him and pull the phone from the pocket of my yoga pants.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, squeezing his shoulder tighter.

I scowl at him before finally looking at my screen. The world promptly slips out from under me. My knees wobble, and I have to lock them in place to stop myself from melting into a puddle of despair. “Taylor,” I cry, staring at the picture. “No, no, no.”

My beautiful friend is lying on her side, hands bound behind her back and ankles tied together. Her blonde hair is matted with dirt and dried blood, bruises discoloring parts of her pale skin. I’m whimpering, I know I am, but I can’t stop it.

“Valkyrie? What is it? What’s wrong?” Jack asks.

I hate how authentically concerned he sounds. As if I didn’t just shoot him. As if he isn’t a fucking a murderer who stabbed me in the back.

Hardening my heart, I angrily thrust my phone out at him as all reasoning leaves me. “What the fuck is this? Where is she, Jack?!”

He holds up a hand when I raise the gun once again. When had I lowered it? “Don’t,” he pleads. “I don’t know anything about Taylor. I would never do anything to hurt her. I know what she means to you. To hurt her would be to hurt you, and I would never do that. Who sent the picture?”

Gods, I’m so emotionally fucked right now I didn’t even check. All I saw was the picture and hyper focused on it. I click on the picture and open the text. The name I see there sends a wave of nausea over me, my stomach clenching and roiling.

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