Page 61 of F*ck Steal Kill

His eyes met mine, pools of darkness glinted back. Self-loathing mixed with fear swirled together, and his hands shook as they raised up to cup my jaw.

“The thought of losing you when I’ve just found you terrifies me, baby.” He rested his forehead against mine, breaths coming in sharp as he pressed us together. “I’m going to freak out for a bit and go crazy about security. Just let me, please. Can you give me that, Holland?”

Quentin shook, his fear a visible thing as he worked through whatever was plaguing him. I knew a flashback when I saw one. I’d had enough of my own.

“Hey, Q, look at me.” His eyes snapped open; his head pulled back a smidge so he could peer at me easier. “Wherever your mind is going, it’s in the past. I’m right here with you, and I’m safe. I’m strong and know how to handle myself. While I can’t promise I won’t be in danger again, I promise not to make reckless decisions. Okay? We’re a team now. We do it together.”

His body tightened, and he took a few deep breaths before he relaxed. Kissing me once on the forehead and then lips, he opened the shower for me and made sure I was enclosed before he walked out, not saying a word.

My heart fell to my stomach, worried I’d messed it up. But I knew I wasn’t someone to be coddled. Power and control were things I needed. I wouldn’t give that up for a man to protect me. I was no longer the damsel in distress, so I wouldn’t pretend to be now to soothe his ego.

I could admit I cared for these guys, which in and of itself was a feat. It had been years since I let anyone outside of Joy and Lacey in. But I wouldn’t change myself.

Stepping out of the shower, I dried off, avoiding the wound on my leg. Now that I could see it better, it wasn’t as bad as I’d first believed. It would leave a wicked scar—just another to add to my collection.

My hands moved over the small quarter-inch spots along my pelvis. They were so tiny most people didn’t notice them, their silvery scar tissue easy to dismiss. I didn’t have the luxury of forgetting. They were remnants of the old Holland, the one that still believed in miracles.

But that version had been wiped out with the death of Harper, my sister.

I’d given everything to save her—my dreams of college, my savings, even my bone marrow—but it hadn’t been enough in the end. And I’d been left broken, the best part of this town gone, and all I had to show was a new sad girl moniker stuck in a town I loathed.

Holland Kyler—a girl too smart for this town.

Holland Kyler—poor thing with a deadbeat dad and alcoholic mother.

Holland Kyler—the one with a dead sister.

If it hadn’t been for Lacey and Joy, I wouldn’t have survived, the grief so vast I never thought I’d make it through. It was the real reason the game started—a way to give me something other than my pain to think about.

It had given me a purpose, a way to right the wrongs the world ignored and find my own path to the life I wanted. I couldn’t stop, no matter how much it scared Quentin. I needed this to survive. There was no longer a Holland that didn’t include killing bad guys. I’d gone from sad girl to badass killer, and she was here to stay.

“Holland? Do you need any help?” Max asked, knocking on the door.

“Yeah, but I didn’t bring any clothes, so I’m naked. Enter if you dare,” I teased, some of my darkness fading back at the sound of Max’s voice. It was hard to imagine him having his own since he was pure sunshine to me.

“I’m not scared of a naked girl, sweetheart.”

Smiling, I placed my hands on my hips, ready to test that theory. The door opened a crack, Max peeking his head in. He froze, his eyes dilating as he took me in.

“Okay, so that wasn’t a joke.”

“Nope. Still stand by your statement?” I asked, hopping onto the counter and spreading my legs. Max gulped but stepped into the room, his eyes working hard to stay on my face.

“Yep. Not scared. Turned on. But definitely not scared.” He placed the med kit on the counter, stepping between my legs. Now it was my turn to swallow, the heat of his body giving mine ideas.

“You’re beautiful, Holland. I’m having to hold myself back not to take advantage of you right now.”

“Why would you be taking advantage? I’m a willing participant, Maxwell.”

His eyes heated at me using his full name, and he licked his lips. His fingers flexed against my thighs, the rough calluses sending goosebumps over my skin.

“Hmm, maybe I should do a scan to verify. I need to check you over from head to toe, so I know I didn’t miss anything.”

The fake protest died on my lips as he lifted my leg, and his lips and nose trailed over my calf. His fingers caressed my skin as he moved up, touching every inch of me as he went. When he neared my thigh, I sucked in a breath as he kissed the soft skin, his teeth nipping lightly. He pulled my lower half closer to the edge, my back naturally arching as I tilted toward him, bracing against the mirror with my hand.

“Mmm, you smell delicious, Holland. But I need to confirm for my own curiosity.”

His nose trailed up my pussy lips, quickly followed by his tongue as it swept through my wetness. One leg propped onto his shoulder, the other he spread wide, careful of my injury. My free hand tangled in his soft curls, keeping him precisely as he was. Not that he seemed to have any intention of moving as he licked and sucked at my folds.

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