I’m gonna throw up if she keeps talking about this game-playing little cunt like she’s the next Messiah, I swear to Christ. “Just so I have your official confession, that night at the club when you showed up in the dress, you tampered with Laurel’s drinking glass, correct?”
Marlena hesitates. She hesitates for-fucking-ever. At this rate, Cassandra’s going to have a dozen new lovers to manipulate by the time this chick opens her fucking mouth and tells me what I need to hear.
“It’s okay,” I assure her, affecting a more soothing tone. “I don’t blame you. I know how this works, I’ve seen it before. You got mixed up with the wrong people. I get it. They told you to poison some fucking girl, you did what you were told. I just need to hear you say it.”
Since I have my arm wrapped so tightly around her neck, I feel it when she swallows. I know she’s afraid to trust me, but Marlena isn’t versed in this life. She has no idea who to trust and who not to. She can’t tell the bad guys she can trust from the worse ones she can’t. She might be Cassandra’s star pawn right now, but that’s because of her doe eyes and the nice ass she admittedly possesses. Once she has what she wants from her, Cassandra would throw this poor girl to the wolves. Meanwhile, this lovesick little fool would die defending Cassandra’s make-believe honor.
Jesus, I hate that woman.
More than any other woman I’m currently thinking about, until the pawn finally decides she can trust me. Thickly, she says, “I did. I’m so sorry.”
Nodding grimly, I bring my other arm around her body to support her weight, then I snap her neck.
“I appreciate your honesty,” I murmur, as her limp body falls to the ground. Sighing as I look down at her and debate how to get her body out of here without being seen, I tell her, “Unfortunately for you, Laurel wasn’t just some fucking girl.”
She’s my fucking girl, and as long as I’m breathing, nobody goes after her and lives to tell the story.
Nobody.
31
Laurel
I’m getting used to Rafe going to his clubs without me.
Juanita made me some dinner before she left earlier, but now I have peace and quiet. Since I’ve had such difficulty sleeping at night, I do everything I can to establish a peaceful nighttime routine. I’ve put my cell phone on charge already. I read that the screen makes it difficult to fall asleep if you’re playing on your phone right up to bed time, so tonight I’m screen-free for an hour before bedtime.
I make myself some sleepy time tea and bring the novel I picked out for tonight—Dreamcatcher by Nikki Reid. Rafe and I were supposed to go to the bookstore to pick out a baby book every week, but he never mentioned it this week and we definitely never stepped foot inside a bookstore. Since things have been a little weird between us but I wanted to make sure the baby got a new book, I took matters into my own hands and ordered online. While I was shopping, I decided I deserved a few new books to keep me company on these quiet nights, too.
While I drink my tea at the island counter, I decide to start reading. I run my hand over the lovely cover and caress the spine. The cover photo is a shot from behind of a blue-haired bride with a dreamcatcher tattoo on her shoulder—super pretty. Carly tells me I’m creepy with books. She’s always on me about switching to a Kindle, but I can’t fondle the cover of my book if it’s trapped inside an e-reader. I love the feel of books, the smell of them, the ability to fan the pages and see the entire story yet to come. I’ll never give them up, no matter how creepy Carly accuses me of being.
Opening the front cover, I flip past the title and dedication pages and settle in to start chapter one. I get sucked in right away and forget about the tea. I only planned to read for a
n hour while I relaxed myself for bed, but before long I realize reading may have been a bad idea. Instead of wanting to sleep, I’m thinking I may end up staying awake even longer so I can figure out why the bride just abandoned the groom she’s crazy about at the altar!
I turn the page to start the next chapter, but freeze when I feel a disturbance in the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I swallow.
“Rafe?” I ask hopefully.
I hear a metallic click, then a hard, “Try again.”
My heart tumbles right out of its cavity. “Sin.”
“There you go. Sorry to disappoint,” he murmurs, an edge of attitude in his tone.
I can’t help the faint smile that steals across my lips as I mark my page and close my book. “I’m not disappointed. What are you doing here?” I start to turn so I can face him, but before I can, he moves closer, his chest pressing against my back. Then he places one hand on my shoulder to anchor me, and brings the other one up near my head.
I gasp as the hard, unforgiving barrel of Sin’s gun presses against my temple and I go still.
What the fuck is happening?
Even though I know this is Sin, and I know he would never hurt me, fear slices through me.
It’s Sin, I tell myself. My heart knows that, but my brain and my body respond to the threat—to the dangerous, loaded weapon of a hardened killer currently pressed against the side of my fucking head.
“Sin, what are you doing?” I ask shakily.
I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, the heat from his chest rolling off his body. His lips brush the shell of my ear and I jerk.