Page 50 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

Before I can draw a fourth line, the door opens and Gage comes in.

There was probably a time when I would have yelled at him for barging in or tried to hide what I’m doing. Not because I’m ashamed of it, but because it’s none of his business. But now, I don’t even bother to try to hide it or pretend I was doing something else. I’m done trying to hide any of my fucked-up-ness. Especially from these guys who have plenty of their own.

Gage stands in the doorway for a moment, just looking at me with those perceptive bright green eyes.

I stare right back at him, lifting my chin almost in challenge. Like I’m daring him to pity me or judge me. I’ve got words for him if he decides to go that route.

But he doesn’t.

He just comes fully into the room and closes the door behind him. When he walks over to the bed and takes the blade out of my hand, I don’t resist, letting him have it.

He glances down at the small silver blade, the sharp edge of it wet and red with my blood. Then he sets it on the nightstand and looks down at the cuts on my leg. He drags one finger through the blood that’s starting to run together from the neat lines, and for a split second, I think he’s going to write ‘mine’ or something on my skin, the way Knox did.

Instead, he lifts his bloody finger and smears it on my face, dragging it over my cheeks like war paint. His eyes are intent as he looks at me.

“Are you ruined?” he asks.

My heart lurches a little at his words. It’s a question he’s asked before, and there’s no easy answer in this moment. There’s so much inside my head, so much going on that it’s hard to know one way or another. I think about Lorenzo and Ivan and Hannah, and I see them in my head, standing there and waiting like they want to know the answer too. It would be so easy to sink into the pain of the memories, to let this shaky, awful feeling take over.

I’m tired, that much I can admit to myself. I’ve been grinding for so hard and so long, trying to cross every name off my list, trying to do something to make it up to my sister for not being able to protect her when she needed me. Even now that it’s done, I don’t feel like I can rest. I feel haunted. Hunted. Like it’ll follow me for the rest of my life.

But somewhere underneath all of that, I remember that even through everything, I still managed to survive. I killed them all, however it had to happen. They didn’t get the better of me. They all thought they were untouchable, so secure in their fucking arrogance. And now none of them have anything to show for it.

And I did that.Me. I was their reckoning, the way I always intended to be. Even if it didn’t bring my sister back, even if I can’t properly lay her to rest, none of them will ever hurt anyone ever again.

I take a deep breath, trying to hold on to that line of clarity.

“No,” I murmur back to Gage. “I’m not.”

He nods, and his eyes burn. “That’s right. You’re not ruined. You’re a fucking warrior.”

As if he’s trying to consecrate those words, he leans in, one hand sliding behind my neck as he kisses me.

His palm is firm on the back of my neck, his fingers threading through my hair, and the moment our mouths touch, he pulls me even closer, pressing his lips to mine with bruising intensity.

A soft gasp escapes me at the feel of it, and I chase that sensation. I’d rather feel Gage than the demons clawing at me, so I focus on him instead.

His hands roam down my back, pulling me closer, and I touch him just as freely. His shoulders, his chest, down the strong planes of his stomach, and then lower where I can tell he’s already starting to get hard in his jeans.

That heat between us is exploding, threatening to burn us both alive, but we don’t stop. We’ve had sex before, but it’s been a while, and we both threw our walls and guards up hard after that. But there’s none of that right now.

He already knows. He’s already seen me struggling, trying to fight back against the feelings that are holding me down and keeping me all twisted up inside.

I can’t hide from him.

Not my pain or my demons or the fact that I want him so fucking bad in this moment.

Gage breaks the kiss after what feels like an eternity, and I’m left gasping for breath, staring up at him as he looks down at me with those deep green eyes. It looks like he wants to devour me and can’t decide where to start. But it must only take him a second to make a decision, because he moves again quickly, kissing my neck and working his way down my body while he pushes me back against the bed until I’m flat on my back.

My legs hang over the edge, and Gage settles himself between them. Even down there on his knees, he’s still every inch a predator, still in control of this—and I can’t find it in me to have a problem with that.

Not when he’s looking at me with a ravenous expression that makes me shiver all over.

He hooks his fingers in my underwear and drags them down, tossing them off to the side somewhere. With those big hands, he spreads my legs wider, and there’s nothing I can hide from him like this.

I don’t even want to.

I’m already wet, just from his hands on me, his mouth on me, and I know he can see it clearly. The scent of my arousal is in the air, and he leans in toward the source, his fingers digging into my thighs.

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