Page 78 of Blood and Lies (A Twisted Duet 1)

“You okay over there?”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “I’m about to go face to face with a woman who wants nothing more than to see me choke on my own blood. I’ve never been better.”

I snorted. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

She caught my gaze in the mirror. “It’s my life I don’t want to lose.”

I turned to face her and glanced down at my shirt she was still wearing. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything else for you to wear.”

“It’s okay. My wardrobe is the last thing I’m worried about.” She bit her thumbnail between her teeth, her face nothing but lines of worry.

“Did you love him?” The question just rolled out of my mouth.

Blue eyes kept my gaze. “I don’t know. I thought I did, but I don’t know anything anymore.”

Her answer didn’t surprise me. All the lies that now suddenly surrounded everything about her and Carlo being together were enough to make her doubt what she felt back then. But I remember how she mourned the “break-up” when Carlo disappeared. I watched her, I observed her, and her heartache was evident in every facial expression and in every bottle of scotch she consumed. It didn’t bother me in the slightest back then, but it bothered me now. It ate at me from the inside, knowing she might have truly loved him, and I had no right to feel that way. I didn’t have the right to lay claim on her…or did I?

Tatum once belonged to my brother, but now she belonged to me. I didn’t know how it happened, but I claimed her—I claimed all of her, which was why knowing she felt something, anything for my brother was the kind of knowledge I could have gone without. Yet I was the one who asked the stupid goddamn question, and somewhere deep inside my chest, I regretted it.

I just nodded, and as I was about to turn around, ready to let the subject go, she spoke.

“Carlo lied to me, and a lie is just as good as cheating. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that, which is why I need to know why he felt the need to lie. Nothing about any of this makes sense. Your mother’s hate for me is so intense, as if it was me who pulled that trigger, yet after what she told you, it’s clear the plot between our parents to keep me and Carlo apart was the reason he got killed.”

I glanced her way. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. We’ll find out the truth today.”

I opened my closet door then unlocked the safe I had hidden at the back. I heard Tatum’s faint gasp when I pulled out two guns.

“I suppose it is necessary for those,” she said behind me as I checked that the chambers were fully loaded.

“Was it necessary when I killed Nicollo?” I tucked them in behind my back before straightening out my suit jacket. Her silence was as good as an answer. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling—not that any of this was any matter to smile about. But for a woman who relished pain and loved to bleed, she sure was innocent when it came to my world. For some reason, I liked that—that she wasn’t a part of all this. She was my escape. The only problem was I would ultimately be her cross. Just like the cross inked on my back, fire consuming it, I’d be the cross with her fucking name on it, the blood in my veins being the flames that would want to devour her.

If anyone asked me what the definition of a cluster fuck was, I’d say three words…Tatum and me. Everything about us was wrong, yet I couldn’t imagine never having her again, not being able to feel her from the inside. And if whatever was about to go down between me and my family turned out in our favor, I didn’t know if I would be able to let her go.

She chewed on her thumbnail again, and I walked over to her, gently easing her finger out from between her lips.

“Stop fretting, little mouse. The look of worry doesn’t suit you.”

Her blue eyes looked up at me. “But chains do?”

“Hmm.” I groaned. “You have no idea how fucking good you look in chains.” I grabbed her hand and pushed it against my now rock-hard cock. “You feel that. Not even the probability of death can stop me from getting hard for you, thinking about you in chains while your skin blushes for me.”

I flexed into her palm before taking her chin in my hand and forcing her face up toward mine. “Your blood feeds the beast inside me,bella donna.”

My mouth claimed hers, hard and unyielding, kissing her like it would be the last fucking time. My body yearned and screamed for me to take her, my beasts clawing and scratching against their cages to claim her and never let her fucking go. Unfortunately, from this moment on, nothing was a guarantee anymore. The only thing I knew while my tongue swirled and brushed against hers was that this woman was probably the closest I would come to finding my salvation—if that was even possible for a man like me.

Unable to control it, I shifted and pushed her on her back before settling on top of her. My body roared, my cock aching with a need that was seconds away from consuming me. And by the way she kissed me back, it didn’t seem like the threat that hung like dark smoke around us bothered her while I had my tongue in her mouth and my hard cock rubbing between her legs. But as much as I’d like to rip my shirt off her and show her once again how I ruled her body, we needed to face the shit storm that waited for us downstairs.

With heavy reluctance, I removed my mouth from hers and pushed myself up, helping her up too.

“Do you trust me, little mouse?”

“No.” She stood.

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

There was a hint of a smile on her lips, but I guessed the weight of what was about to happen was just too heavy for her smile to reach her eyes.

“Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.”

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