She sighs. “Humor me. Look, Ash told me he found Zane in a drunken stupor on Sunday and had to force him to eat and drink. So pardon me if I want to know if he’s doing better now.”
Drunken stupor? My feet take me to the sofa—where only a few nights ago he made me come so hard I saw stars and then left like a man possessed by demons—and I sink into the soft leather. When Tessa pours me a shot glass of the sweet liqueur, I take it without protest.
Was he drunk because of his sister? Or because of the flashback he had with me?
“Well, today he looked okay,” I say, sipping, feeling the lemony goodness slide down my throat, warming me. “How is his sister?”
“Nobody knows.” Tessa pours herself a glass and sits down next to me. “Zane won’t tell us about her. Ash tried to get him to talk but couldn’t get anything out of him.”
Shit. I raise the glass to my lips, when Tessa makes a grab for my wrist. The liqueur sloshes over my fingers, and I yelp. “What the hell?”
“He drew on you again.”
“Yeah.” I’d forgotten about it, caught in all that came next. My body tightens at the memory. “He likes doing that. It relaxes him.”
“Are you frigging kidding me?” Tessa’s nails dig into my palm, and I flinch. “Are we talking about Zane? The same guy who never glances at the same girl twice? Who
never gives his phone number and never kisses? And he just draws stuff on you to relax every other day?”
I jerk my hand out of her grip. “What do you want?”
She shakes her blond head and sprawls back on the sofa. Her short blue dress shimmers like her eyes. “I want to protect him from more pain.”
“I won’t hurt him, Tessa.”
“He’s getting attached to you. He never gets attached to girls he sleeps with.” Her eyes narrow. “He did sleep with you, didn’t he? I saw the hickey he left on you the other day. Hickeys and drawings. Damn.”
I put the shot glass on the table and lick the sweet, sticky liquid from my fingers. “He kissed me,” I whisper.
“The hell he did.” Tessa snorts and swallows the rest of her liqueur. She toys with the small glass.
I rub the drawing on my hand. It’s another bird, as I thought it would be. Looks like a dove, but it has a skull etched behind its head, like the moth tattoo on my back. Inked lines circle my fingers like rings, and I turn my hand over.
Oh shit.
“He wouldn’t kiss anyone,” Tessa is muttering, but when I finally look up, I see her eyes are wide. “Oh God, he did, didn’t he? He kissed you.”
I nod, my thoughts chasing each other. Uncertain, I stretch out my arm, showing her my palm. “Tessa, is this…?” I bite my lip again, as my heart does a dance in my chest, stomping on my ribs. “Tell me.”
She gasps, then laughs, and finally covers her mouth with her hand. “It is,” she says, the words muffled. “I’ll be damned. It’s Zane’s phone number.”
Chapter Nine
Zane
What scares you?
I’m trying to scream, but I can’t. I’m kneeling on a bed, and someone is behind me, a hand pressed over my mouth. My back hurts. It hurts so bad. The pain tears through me like a claw. Black edges my vision.
“Don’t make a sound,” a voice says, and another shadow approaches from the side. He climbs on the bed with me, and the hand leaves my mouth. Still the scream won’t leave my throat. It’s as if it died inside me.
He grabs my chin, pulls my mouth open and stuffs a bunched-up piece of cloth in it. I choke on it and start to cough. It makes my whole body scream with pain. It’s as if I’m being torn apart.
The other man lights a cigarette and sucks in the smoke. Then he reaches behind my neck and stubs it into my skin.
I scream and scream into the gag, tears blurring my vision, and finally, mercifully, everything bleeds into darkness.
No.