In Silence She Screams (Midnight Mayhem 3)

“Wear this—” Kyrin holds up a little red crop top that crisscrosses over my back.

It’s loose fitting, but even so, my tits will spill out over the edges. I take it from him and pair it with tight skinny jeans with zips near the ankles. Turning to face Kyrin, who’s standing at the entry of the closet, I drop my towel and slide into a red lace thong, before squeezing into the high-rise skinny jeans and doing up the button just below my belly button. Not bothering with a bra, I slip on the top while keeping my eyes on Kyrin, turning so he can tie up the back. I don’t know what he’s playing at, but I know there’s a game in progress. There’s no way he has just forgotten about what happened at the club.

I walk past him, swiping the rolled joint that’s lying on my counter and turning to face him with it hanging between my lips. “I’m ready.”

He walks forward while grabbing me by the hand and tugging me close into his chest. His nose touches mine as he walks me backward, my head slamming against the wall. He trails his finger up my jawline and toward the back of my neck. He squeezes tightly, forcing my head to the side. “While you’re here, you’re not going to fuck anyone else but me.”

“Really?” I fire back, searching his side profile. Fascinated by the way angry veins swell over the thin flesh of his neck, and the sharpness of his jawbone protrudes from the frame of his beautifully constructed face. “Never took you as the jealous type.” I leave the lion idea in the back of my mind, far too fascinated with playing on his mood.

His hand is on the front of my throat as he lifts me from the ground so high I have to wrap my legs around his waist as his other hand tucks comfortably beneath the cushion of my ass. “You don’t fucking know me, that’s why.”

“True…” Leaning forward, I flick my tongue over his lip. “And right now, I’m really only interested in knowing your dick.”

He smirks and the foreign look almost knocks me off the center I’ve been balancing on for so many years. Lowering me back to the ground, he puts his hand in mine as he swings open my door and pushes me out. I make my way downstairs, consciously aware that the Kiznitch Monster is following closely behind like a predator.

Eli is halfway through shoving his phone into his back jeans pocket when his eyes fly between me and toward the back where Kyrin is. “The devil and the pet.”

I light the tip of the joint that’s in my mouth and inhale. “Which one is the devil, and which one is the pet?” I keep my eyes on Eli, who doesn’t move from me. I see the argument he’s having with himself in the back of his mind, but I can’t let myself go there. Not right now, maybe not ever.

“I’ll tell you when I’ve figured it out.”

I step in front of him, running the tip of my finger over Eli’s bottom lip. “So beautiful, yet so lost.”

The muscles on the side of his jaw tense as he moves out of my touch. Leaning down until his lips brush the shell of my ear, he whispers, “If you think I’m lost, you should see the state of the one who let me go.”

My blood turns cold and I step out of his embrace. Before Kyrin can ask what is happening, and before I do something crazy like hit Eli, I head right out the door and make my way down to where the angry orange flames burn through the opaque night air. The passing with Eli has left me with an empty hole in my gut the size of his fist. Reaching for a wine cooler in an ice bucket near the line of chairs, I fall down onto one beside Saskia, who has been watching me the entire time.

She points to Kyrin and Eli who are not far behind me. “I could get used to this.”

“To what?” Perse asks, her legs crossed over themselves and her hands buried in her oversized hoodie.

“To Lilith and her boys.”

I ignore them both and swallow my drink until Val is dragging over a girl with unruly hair and a smile that could lighten even the darkest souls. She’s slender and fit, with a square jaw and perfect mocha-colored skin. Dressed in loose ripped boyfriend jeans, Chuck Taylors, and a relaxed Led Zeppelin crop top, she’s a cross between rebellion and timid sexuality. There’s a chain that hangs over her lower belly, and a twinkle in her eye that only resides in people who have seen some shit.

“Lilith, this is Maya. Maya, this is Lilith.” Maya nudges her head at me, her curls bouncing down her slender back.