Make You Beg

“Probably,” he clips.

“Jesus.” They need a penicillin shot after fighting there. “Why did you fight in his place?” I ask.

“Because he was too fucked up to do so.”

“Scout has fought before while drunk or high.” I roll my eyes at his lame excuse.

“No.” He shakes his head. “The fight today at school fucked up Scout’s hand. We have playoffs coming soon. He couldn’t afford to fight five fights. The odds of him breaking his hands were pretty high.”

“So … you risked hurting your own hands in five fights to save Scout from fighting?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He breathes.

“Did you hurt yours?”

He stretches out his fingers and then fists them a few times. “Nah, they’ll be fine.”

He started off not using them. That’s why he lifted the guy over his shoulder and choked him out instead of punching him. He needed to save his hands for the playoffs. But his last fight … it was brutal. I watched in amazement. I have a feeling he’d still be hitting him if they hadn’t dragged Law off him.

GRAYSON LAW

We get back to the house, and I go straight to the bathroom. I need a shower. I feel pretty good for a guy who just took on five fights in a matter of three hours. But I won’t feel okay tomorrow once the adrenaline wears off.

I kick off my jeans and remove my shirt before stepping into the shower and walking under the sprayer, allowing it to wash off my night.

I hear the bathroom door open but act like I don’t.

“Law?”

“Go to bed, doll,” I say, placing my hands on the wall in front of me and ducking my head. The water runs down over me, and I lick my wet lips. My bottom one has a cut on it. Fucking bastard in that second fight got a pretty good hit in.

“But Law …?”

“I’m fine,” I say although my right shoulder fucking hurts, my hand is swollen, and my face throbs. Five fights—I was bound to take a few hits.

The shower door opens next, and I imagine her stepping inside naked.

“Here, let me.” She reaches for my arm.

I yank it out of her hand and turn to face her. “Go to fucking bed, Henley! Your bed!” I’m shouting, and I don’t know why. Well, I do, but I don’t want to admit it.

“I just want to help,” she growls, crossing her arms over her naked chest.

I turn my back to her, trying to block her out by taking a few calming breaths. I’m about to lose my shit. “Please go away.” I manage to get out through gritted teeth. Closing my eyes, I count to five.

“I’m just trying to help you,” she snaps back at me; her soft hands touch my back.

I turn around, wrap my hand around her throat, and shove her back into the shower wall. I’m not restricting her air, but I’ve got a good grip on her.

She glares up at me.

My hand loosens, my thumb running across her lips. Her breathing picks up, and her eyes soften. I hate that I want her as much as I do. “If you don’t go to your bed, little doll, I will carry you in there over my shoulder, tie you to it, and tape your mouth shut,” I threaten, unable to listen to her anymore tonight. I need distance from her. My mind is too foggy, her scent suffocating.

Placing her hands on my ribs, she runs them up my side and around my back, her nails lightly teasing me. “You can do that if you want as long as you promise to fuck me afterward.”

My cock hardens on its own at her words. And I hate that I want her. That I can’t escape her. Maybe this is my punishment. I helped Scout get her in my home where we could have eyes on her all the time. “Little doll,” I breathe, placing my forehead to hers. “I told you to go to bed.”

She runs her hands up and down my arms, letting her fingertips caress them. “I want you,” her soft voice says.

I lean my body against hers, pinning it to the wall. My resolve fucking breaking. “No,” I say, battling that need for her to calm me. The demon roars to life inside me, knowing she’s his key—she’ll only give him the power to destroy everything.

“Why?” she asks.

I bury my face into her neck, but she shoves me off her. I take a step back. I’m not going to be Scout. I will not force her.

“What is so wrong with me?” she demands.

I laugh.

She slaps me across the face.

“Watch it, doll,” I growl. I’m still on edge after the fights. I can’t just shut it off. It’s another reason I don’t do it often. I might not need the blood like Scout does, but once I get myself in that state of mind, it takes over.