I followed Jaxson and Sam through the forest. The two were silent. Jaxson carried Billy’s body draped over his shoulder, and though I tried my hardest to focus on the ground, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Billy’s lifeless form.
Jaxson’s demeanor was cold and distant, and I mirrored it.
What had I bee
n thinking?
When I’d seen Jaxson coming toward me in the woods, relief had dulled my senses. I’d fled into his arms, my soul aching and broken, as if his touch could soothe my shattered spirit. And then suddenly, for one fucked-up second in my fucked-up life, everything had been right. It hadn’t mattered that psychopaths were trying to drain my blood and kill me, or that I’d killed a man, or been shot at, or hunted by monsters. It didn’t matter that I was covered in blood and that everything was wrong.
That moment had been right, and my body knew it. My hands and lips had moved on their own accord, compelled by his scent, his strength, and that golden light burning in his eyes.
And I’d devoured every second.
I touched my bruised lips. He’d tasted so good. That kiss had been everything, and I’d wanted him so badly—a heat that had driven me to madness. Dread coiled in my chest.
What was wrong with me?
Clearly, a lot.
I’d seen it in his eyes, and I could practically smell it on him now. He’d been ashamed that he’d kissed me.
Who wouldn’t be? I’d killed a man with my bare hands, and then I’d kissed his brother-in-law.
Sam’s shocked and revolted look had told me everything I needed to know: I was the real monster in these woods. I was just a filthy, wolf-murdering, bloodstained LaSalle, and though I’d thought that maybe Jaxson had seen through all that, that he’d seen something more, the only things he felt for me now were regret and shame.
Bastard.
My chest constricted, and heat flushed my neck. I clenched my hands and stalked along behind.
Why couldn’t life let me have one moment?
It didn’t matter. This was for the best. Jaxson Laurent was a freaking werewolf and my family’s sworn enemy. Hell, his brother-in-law had tried to kill me, and it seemed like half the werewolves in the state were okay with that plan.
It was screwed up.
Jaxson and I could never be together. Period. I knew toxic when it hit me in the face.
The three of us stepped out of the forest onto the road. Headlights blinded me as a truck pulled to a stop, and Tony emerged.
Jaxson slid Billy into the bed, then stepped around and opened the back passenger door. I looked away but could feel his eyes on me.
So now he was going to be polite? Asshole.
Ignoring him, I stepped up and slid onto the back seat. Tony looked at me in the rearview mirror as Jaxson shut the door and climbed in the front. Sam got in the back with me but didn’t spare a glance my way, just clicked on her seatbelt.
Was everyone going to give me the cold shoulder now because I’d killed Billy?
I killed him. Just like I’d killed the shifter at the Taphouse. And the one at the sanatorium. My hands trembled, so I slid them under my thighs. I was a murderer, how many times over?
Oh, my God.
An image of my reflection in the water—with glowing honey eyes—flashed through my mind.
Nausea overwhelmed me, and before Tony could drive off, I opened my door and threw up on the road. The others waited as I retched, and once my spasming had subsided, I sat up and closed the door again, wishing I had a bottle of pop. “Sorry,” I muttered.
Without a word, Sam handed me a piece of gum. I took it, unwrapped the silver paper, shoved the stick in my mouth, and chewed aggressively. Minty fresh. If only there was something that would take away the stench of death just as quickly as bad breath.
Jaxson’s shoulders were tense in the front seat, but he said nothing. Tony pulled a U-turn, and we drove in silence.